Book Neighbors Novels & Stories

He went straight to the bookshelf at the back of the shop. “Are you new here?” a sudden grumpy voice followed him behind. “Uh….” Ryan almost jumped off at the voice. He turned around to see an old man about above fifty years old, approached him, trudging. “Hello, I’m the owner of this bookstore.” That man replied, his voice shaking, “I’m Nicholas, you can call me Nick.” “Yeah, I’m new here, just moved yesterday down the alley,” he stated, holding a crime novel.

In my current state I doubt I'd be able to get it up anyway. One evening, while pointlessly walking through my bookstore shift in a depressed mental fog, I'm shocked when I look up and see Barbara, the third neglected black housewife enter the store. I'm thinking it's just a coincidence, she's probably shopping but then she spots me and heads purposefully in my direction.

The thought made me sigh. “Mia, it’s important to keep connections alive,” she had said. “You never know when you’ll need them.” As the owner of Cruz’s Bookstore—one of New Orleans’ oldest independent bookstores—my mother was obsessed with building literary networks. I, on the other hand, had no such ambitions. I just wanted to survive the night and catch my flight home in the morning. The bed and breakfast where I was staying was tucked into a quieter part of town, away from the bustling nightlife. When I arrived, the dimly lit street was unsettlingly still. No traffic, no pedestrians—just the eerie hum of a flickering streetlamp overhead.

Alex became red in the face and scratched his nape as he trailed behind me, when the book assistant silenced him with a ‘‘Ssshhh’’ command, because some people were reading silently at the far corner. ‘‘No need…’’ I whispered, waving my hand. ‘‘I’ve been to this place before…’’ This bookstore wasn’t that big and not crowded. There’s actually another one down the street which was so much bigger and looked like the headquarters, while this one was most likely a branch office for the bookstore. But I liked it here more. I tapped my finger on my chin, looking up at the titles of the biography books that were arranged alphabetically on the upper shelf.

They entered, drawn in by the aroma of well-loved books and the faint rustling of pages turning. A pleasant bookseller approached them as they surveyed the shelves, their eyes wide with wonder. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" she said, her voice kind and welcoming. Lucian grinned. "We're open to surprises; what do you recommend?" The bookseller's eyes twinkled with enthusiasm. "Ah, then, let me introduce you to our Book Club, which meets here every week to engage in fascinating literary discussions, and you're welcome to join them." Lucian and Ravena gladly accepted the offer, intrigued by the thought of participating in conversations with fellow book enthusiasts. The next week

I turned quickly to face the young girl, her messy hair was tied up in two buns making her look younger than her age, which was young enough already. Stacey. My neighbor's last daughter who'd been trying for years to get into my pants. I was smarter than that though. She was not the kind of woman I would ever dream of going for....if I could even call her that. "Yes." I turned back just as quickly and continued the walk to my car. Damn!

I thought he was going to meet his woman? I parked Liam's car – one of my buddies – beside the convenience store and walked towards the location where Daddy's car was parked. Our village has two types of houses: the mansion type, like ours, and the townhouse type. The houses look alike, and in one compound, there are two houses facing each other. It's like having neighbors in pairs. I saw Dad enter a townhouse, number one four three. This information is enough. I immediately left the place and went back to my car. I can just hire someone to spy on them; it's easier than following Dad around.

“Hey. I need to know where Alice is. Is she in school today?” “Can't tell you that, sorry.” “Come on. I'm her… friend. Just tell me where she is,” the voice said. “If you're her friend, like you claim to be, you'd know where she is without asking me and disturbing my quiet time,” Nora said, paying no heed to the stranger. “Oh, come on,” the stranger said, pulling the Kindle away from her. “Oh my goodness. Give me back my book right this moment,” she said, turning—finally face to face with the stranger.

It took almost a minute until everything sank into the windlet’s head. “Man. Empty stomach makes me stupid,” Darrion commented. “Let’s go to the park!” the windlet grinned, trying to change the subject. Jai chuckled. He really is a bright sun. “Sure. Where’s the turn, though?” “Oh it’s there,” Darrion pointed at the turn. “Oh, there’s also a bookstore there at the corner. We should buy some newspaper and read the news.” Jai and Darrion stopped by the book store at the corner of the road. It was an average sized book store with a pyramid and rows of books displayed on the window. They entered the place and saw there were already several customers inside.

Jace said, ignoring the look. He grabbed a hold of her hand and they walked into the book store. Walking in the bell ding and the man behind the counter came out. His face at first was very pleasant but seeing Jace it changed to nervousness. "Mr. Knight, have you come to return the books you borrowed?" He asked, trying to be brave. " No, we are not down with them. However, I need a favor." Jace said firmly. "What kind of favor?" He asked, looking confused.