Novel & Cerita Book Review The Secret History

Not even a lock of hair. “Why the mystery?” I muttered to myself, feeling a twinge of frustration. A part of me craved to see more, to uncover the enigma behind the mask. But another part of me also reveled in the mystery, in the secret thrill of the chase. This girl was mysterious, and that, to me, was sexy. So many girls who I had come into contact with were so quick to tell me everything, to show me everything. But this girl… She was a closed book with a lock and key.

As I stepped out of the elevator, my mood was great, and the stress from the earlier meeting somehow disappeared. My secretary greeted me, “Sir, someone sent you a gift. I placed it inside.” A gift? I wonder who it's from. I nodded and went straight to my office. Upon entering, I immediately saw the gift my secretary mentioned – a black box with a red ribbon on top. I furrowed my brows, wondering who could have sent it. I approached my desk and took the box. There was no indication of the sender. I examined it closely before opening. “Sh*t!” I dropped the box and took a step back as soon as I saw its what inside.

Bella Pov Karen's book hit number one on the bestseller list three weeks after it published. I saw it displayed in the window of every bookstore I passed. "The Other Woman: A Love Story" in big letters with Karen's photo on the back cover. She was smiling in that photo. Looking innocent and sympathetic. Nothing like the woman who tried to poison me.

“Some secrets don't stay buried.” Elena’s vision blurred for a moment. She glanced around the classroom — every chair in place, every shelf neat. No sign anyone had been there. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. Outside, thunder rumbled softly — a low warning that crawled through the air. She clutched the note, the words burning into her palm. Some secrets don’t stay buried. For a second, she thought she saw movement outside the window — a silhouette by the gate. But when she blinked, it was gone.

And then, at the very bottom of the box, we got to my diary. The one that I had hidden in a secret compartment in the dresser that I thought my mother knew nothing about. The one that I had written in about the bullying and abuse that I suffered. The one that I had confided some of my darkest and deepest insecurities. Ashley saw my face and frowned. “Jenna?” “It’s my … my … my d-d-d-d-iary,” I whispered. “It’s here. Which means she found it. Which means… she read it.”

I love you ~D~ Justin felt like he was suffocating as the words he had just read kept replaying in his mind. " Was Desmond right? Is Drake actually gay? Is this a dream?" Justin's said to him self as he kept staring at the paper in his hands. His pulse began raising as he found it hard to swallow. Guilt filled him up as he felt that he had trespassed into Drake's secret he wouldn't want anyone to know. As he stood there thinking he heard footsteps approaching the office which he recognized as Drake's.

My heart is, and always will be yours. Jane Austen. While Sarah was looking at books with Finn, Annie wandered around looking at the new releases. There were a few historical novels that looked interesting but then she spotted one that really caught her eye. She wandered over to the very busy display, it was much busier here than anywhere else in the store. Picking up a copy of the book she flipped it over to read the blurb on the back. She was surprised to see it was a book about the Templars when she was jostled from all sides as shoppers grabbed a copy for themselves. Frowning, Annie moved away from the crowd and flicked through the book, it seemed the book depicted the Templars as humans

A muffin would be nice. I pass the sheep barn, however, and pause. I’ve been neglecting The Book of Whispers. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. I know it’s just a copy, but still, the knowledge of Richard wielding it, bending its magic to his whim and sacrificing his own life force to cast his spells, makes my stomach turn. Maybe we don’t need to know its secrets. Maybe they’re better left alone, destroyed. But I’m still a historian, and I’m supposed to be writing our history. I should know what happened before, shouldn’t I?