Book Matched Novels & Stories

“unlucky contestants…shelf two, book thirteen.” It sounded oddly like a personal note. My curiosity won out and I skimmed my fingers along the spines of the books until I chose one at random. I pulled out a medium-sized book, a deep shade of navy blue. Earthen twine was wrapped around the book, and there was a picture on the front. A middle-aged man with chocolate hair and dark eyes smiled up at me. The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71.

There is no mate bond, but having him close makes me feel more secure. “I can’t wait for you to see this.” He rubs his thumb on the top of my hand as he leads me to a store. It’s rare Bronx gets so excited about surprising me. We approach a bookstore with a dusty, old window display. In gold paint, there is a picture of a pan flute and a goat. The images are peeling and sundried as if they’ve been there forever. Over the pictures are the words ‘The Barded Goat Used & Collectible Books’.

“Better than that club, at least.” “Exactly.” April disappeared into the back room, returning with a stack of books. She plopped them in front of me. “Here. Keep your hands busy, maybe your brain will stop overloading.” I rolled my eyes but pulled the stack closer. “My brain has stopped overloading, work master.” “Motivator,” she corrected with a grin.

The year I started middle school, my parents solemnly handed my sister and me each a bank card. "This is your college fund. There's 100,000 dollars in each one. The password is your birthday. Don't touch it unless it's truly an emergency." I listened. I treated that card like a treasure. I never bought a single new piece of clothing. Even my worn-out canvas shoes got patched with glue and worn again. I thought that if I was just responsible enough, I'd live up to my parents' idea of "fairness." Then, after the SATs ended, I wanted to use the money on the card for a graduation trip with my classmates. Instead, the ATM screen flashed a number that burned my eyes: [Balance: $0.00]. At th

Sienna The suffocating silence of the bar seemed to press down on my chest like a physical weight, making it incredibly hard to draw a full breath. I slowly pulled my hand back out of the hidden compartment beneath the dark marble counter, my knuckles scraping lightly against the wood of the interior frame. Wrapped securely in my trembling fingers wasn't a stash of unmarked cash, a black ledger, or a modern weapon. It was just a book. A thick, heavy, dust-jacketed volume that had been tucked away into the hollowed-out space of the bar.

She cut herself and held out her hand in the air, so the blood dropped into the sacred bowl. " Hold your hands together so the cuts meet," he said. I turned and faced her, her pretty face was a charm on its own and I found myself struggling to concentrate. I stretched out my hands to her, she did the same and placed her cut palm on mine. A spark was felt and I knew she felt it as well. The fire began to burn so well. Our wolves began to collide and I was struggling to breathe. It seemed the two wolves were trying to become one and we were the ones being affected by it.

The faint scent of something dark and expensive lingering in the air wood, spice, something almost smoky. Elias ran a finger along the spines, scanning titles. History. Economics. Philosophy. Control disguised as curiosity, he thought absently. He crouched to reach the lower shelf, pulling out one book, then another. When he straightened, his elbow brushed the desk. Something slid. He caught it automatically before it hit the floor. A matchbook. Black. Matte. Thick cardstock. Elias stared at it. His pulse kicked hard enough to make his ears ring.

ghQSGhB3d3cub3ByYWhtYWcuY29tmBYB\x26ae\x3d1\x26num\x3d1\x26cid\x3dCAMSeQClSFh3eFFOuT_ct-sGfKHVcKuejWEX_ype5TRzEE57JvkABRwzwjCtasgDF1gur_etUjAquFo5cXAd782C2vVcHm9vGdyKkZy6oNnioitQkVDwdxrUXi9qgcfXkYMgUZXsMf0q_HroA_23ikEAa-ISxXatbdYa7Zk\x26sig\x3dAOD64_3izjK8zQ0OWH4WXVPubt3Bm331sg\x26client\x3dca-pub-1301581561755234\x26adurl\x3dhttps://booknet.com/en/book/always-mine-b213290%3Futm_feed%3Dnew_users_time%26gclid%3DCjwKCAiAxKv_BRB

When I walked in, Alex was standing beside the window. Three guards had already searched the room. “What did you find?” He pointed toward the bookshelf. At first, I didn’t notice anything. Then I saw it. One book wasn’t aligned with the others. It stuck out by barely an inch. Anyone else would’ve overlooked it. I walked over and gently pulled it free. Behind it… A small section of the wooden panel had been scratched. Fresh scratches. My expression hardened. “This wasn’t here.” Alex nodded. “I asked Maria.”

We entered the foyer of the pack house when Luna Margarita’s voice came from the left side of us, I turned and she smiled, “are you feeling better Amelia? I nodded, “yes, thank you Luna Margarita, is it possible that you direct me to the library, I need to find a book that may help me, if you don’t mind.” She smiled politely, “of course, my dear, this way,” she took my elbow, and we walked down a hallway, “it’s a huge library, may I ask which book your looking for, I could help.” “Thank you, it’s the one about mating bonds, it has everything in it including the rejection.”