Book Review Speak Novels & Stories

Don't forget to comment on what you think of the book, and if you love it hit the star and vote for the book. @CrystalSteadman 2023

She took the glass in one sip and passed it without making a gesture through the drink, which looked like liquid fire. “It's something I read in a book called “I fell in love with my guru”, From the title, I assumed it was a love novel, and in part it was, although it also had themes of self-help and spirituality. In one part, he explains that people are like magnets and that they attract things.” He filled the glasses again and looked at the bottle that was about to be empty.

"It's in the world. Anyone can read it. Including you." "It said — " he paused, selecting the words carefully the way he always selected words. "It said you were the most honest person the reviewer had ever seen in that kind of setting. That you answered questions without managing them. That you said things about your own experience that most people would be afraid to say in front of strangers." He paused again. "It said reading the book and then seeing you in person confirmed that the book is the actual person." She felt that. "The book is the actual person," she said.

Both were really awkward at each other at first but when they found out that both were reading the same book, they eventually got a comfortable to talk at each other. “So, you also read that book-” “Yeah, I got into it after a friend of mine recommended it to me.” “Isn’t it a great book.” “Yeah, I got hooked on it after reading the first chapter.” “bla-bla-bla” Both continued to talked to each other and enjoyed their conversation. “I was feeling an awkward atmosphere growing between our table so I was gonna try to start a conversation but when you brought out your book, I was just surprised to see a person reading it.” The girl said.

“No way. Pretty boy like you I’m sure you cracked your first nut at what, twelve?” I pick up one of the textbooks I purchased this afternoon as exhibit #1. It’s about 4” thick with tissue-thin pages. “The Great Speeches of Ancient Greece by Thucydides” is scrawled across the spine, in Greek. Pushing my wire-thin glasses up the bridge of my nose in emphasis I say “Nerd. Remember.”

The kiss didn't last long, but it left me wanting more. "You look beautiful," Soren said in a husky voice. I just smile, despite everything, I still can't speak. ************* Note: Don't forget to like, comment and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform

The specific and precise observation of a man who had spent twenty-three years in conversation with the way people related to books and had a reliable taxonomy. "Yes," I said. "She reads to feel less alone," he said. He said it in the specific and simple way of a man stating an observed fact, without weight or ceremony. He moved to another shelf. I stood with it. I stood with the specific and quiet landing of a thing said simply that had arrived with a weight disproportionate to the simplicity of the saying. Not because it was surprising. Because it was accurate in the specific and complete way of an accuracy that contained more than its surface, that described not only the thing it named bu

It hurt me to change her expression but I had to do it. She turned her back to me, looking ahead while wrapping her hands around her body. “I don't wanna talk about it right now “ She says bottling up her feelings but I couldn't let that happen I watch her shrink into her shell, that lively lady turning into her usual shy self “I thought you wrote that book about that shy girl who had dyslexia and uh…what was it?” I say trying to recall one of her books I had gone through “When The Silence Speaks” She replies quietly

What if the information we needed simply wasn't there? I reached out and touched the cover. Instantly, golden light burst from the pages. Micha and I both froze. Then—something that had never happened before happened. The book spoke. Its voice was ancient, layered, and echoing like someone whispering from a distant chamber. "Dearest reader, this book chose not to open earlier because the time was not right. Do not be shocked—I can speak. I am called the Living Book for a reason." Micha and I exchanged stunned looks but nodded quickly.

“When I began writing this book, I thought I was chronicling pain. Betrayal. The bare bones of survival. But what I discovered… was that I was actually finding my way back. Back to my own voice. And letting it echo, unashamed, across every room where I was once silenced.” No excerpts. No performative readings. Everyone had already devoured the words. So instead, Sophia made space for voices. And they filled the room like light. A woman stood, trembling, and asked, “How did you ever learn to trust again?” A teenage girl whispered her thanks, saying the book transformed silence into something that no longer resembled shame. And from the back, a man spoke through tears, “My sister left her abus