Book Page Dimensions Novels & Stories

As she made her way to the living room, she called back, “Let’s get to work” Tara followed obediently. She hadn’t noticed the large cloth sack Maggie carried until the old woman reached inside and pulled out a thick, leather bound book. Tara stretched forward to take a closer look. The book showed years of wear. The binding was worn thin and the pages were yellowed. At the end of a long black ribbon that was glued within the binding of the book was an octagon shaped crystal that measured one and one-half inches in length and one inch in diameter.

He does back, almost reverently, while I get down to my knees, and dig it out of the ash and leftover wood. And there it is, in all its glory. It is large; significantly large for a book, about two hands wide and two hand spans long. As Quain lifts it out of the debris, the air seems to thrum around it. 'Did you see that?' I gasp. 'What?' he asks. They both look genuinely confused, so I know they cannot see it. Why, though?

She said drawing out her ears in warning and I nodded even though I was confused about the precautions. I walked to my desk— a sleek white piece that felt too clean to touch, there was a computer and a few stationeries accompanied with the tablet Sarah talked about. I sat down on my chair and opened the tablet, I expected a few points on what Mr Ashford wanted but instead I found a 60 page digital manual and I could only gape in shock. Protocol 1.4: All internal documents must utilize a 1-inch margin on all sides. Documents with 0.9-inch margins will be discarded.

The magic book opened on its own, Rico and Niffa patiently wait for whatever the blank page will going to write, they were seated, together, at the long wooden table surrounded by the wall of books. A light was formed, and the empty page was filled with letterings in a freestyle script carved within the thin sheet of paper. They narrowed their eyes trying to read the first letter, it was too bright, and the lettering was almost as white as the paper. The light vanished and the letters turned into tinted black, thick and printed, not written by a hand. The whole page was filled, it says,

It was small. She registered that first — the specific dimensions of it, smaller than a standard notebook, the kind that fit in a jacket pocket, dark green cover with a worn quality that was not aesthetic but actual, the wear of something that had been handled regularly over a period of time. She registered the weight of it, which was the dense weight of pages that had been written on rather than the airy weight of pages that hadn't. She registered the particular quality of its closure, the elastic band around it in the way of certain notebooks, the elastic gone slightly loose with age. She held it.

I shove it back onto the shelf, the motion stirring a cloud of dust that stings my eyes. Finally, in the dimmest section of the floor, I spot it: A History of the Mate Bond. Its faded red leather cover is cracked with age, barely holding the book together. My heart sinks as I pull it free. The book is massive, easily over two thousand pages, the weight of it pulling at my arms.

“How much of it is about the portal?” Cassidy asked, jumping right in. Ward carefully opened the book to a point about three-fourths of the way into the volume, which looked to be about three hundred pages long. The sheets were a discolored yellow, and the ink, had clearly changed colors in several places, varying from a dark black to a lighter gray. It was clear the entire tome had been handwritten. Cadence envisioned an ancient Vampire sitting down with squid’s ink or the blood of a freshly beheaded chicken to dip his crooked talon in a well and scratch each letter out on the page.

I returned a favoring smile to her by doing it genuinely before I took the book on her soft palm, an almost thick book with a blue cover. The book is heavy. On the front cover, there is a closed eye with long black thick lashes in a form of feathers placed inside a pentagon. Outside the badge has a wonderful abstract ocean and sunrise. Below it, golden embossed letters are shining to make its cover spectacular: BOOK OF A ZONER "Begin reading from page two to page five," Psyche said to me, stopping me in amazement. So I did what she wanted me to do. I flipped the pages until I reached the second page of the book. I started reading what's on it.

He released my shoulders almost immediately, letting out a quiet sigh as he walked toward the bookshelves and pulled out a massive book. “This was recently added after the marking ceremony into the collection of pack history, and you would also like to have a look at it while you assume your position.” The book was enormous, over two feet long, with a thick black leather spine and dark folders tucked inside its binding. The book looked old but neat, hinting on how remarkably well it had been preserved over the years. He dropped the book on the desk and flipped through a few of the pages. I watched him continue flipping the pages carefully as if he was looking for something in particular that

One, matches the color of the moon. I carefully open it and immediately note how frail the pages are, it's clearly old. A burst of impatience seems to rip through me and I bring up the bulk of the book’s pages and flick to the end. I stop with about a quarter of the book left, since it isn’t completely filled out. There’s a list of names, going back hundreds of years.