Book Selfish Novels & Stories

I echoed, tasting the words. “Yes.” The moment opened like a window. And I stepped through. “I’d like to open a bookstore,” I said, voice quiet but sure. He blinked. Once. “A bookstore?” I nodded, fingers curling lightly on my lap. “Not for money. I don’t need profit. Just a small one. Shelves, old volumes, maybe a reading corner. Somewhere I can organize collections. Meet people who love stories too.” He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared.

And I couldn’t believe it; it was my book. It was the first book I ever published, “My Hero in the Dark.” A smile crept on my lips; he was reading my book, “Coffee?” “Burgundy,” he called, pulling me out of my daydream. I cleared my throat. “What?” “Do you want coffee?” “No…just my money.” Liam nodded, picked up the book, and continued reading like I wasn’t here asking for my money. Was he seriously going to pretend like he doesn’t owe me?

As he was walking away, the lady then asked him, “If you don’t mind… do you want to sit at the same table then.” “Are you sure? There are-” “No, I- I insist… Since this corner of the café is the best spot to read, I always sit here, I don’t mind sharing it with you.: “Ah sure, that spot was something I had my eye on since earlier.” Kayne replied. “AH, REALLY, let’s share it then!” 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.

Except for Eli. He was sitting at register three, legs kicked up on the counter, sipping coffee from a thermos shaped like a rocket ship. “Did we swap personalities?” she asked, setting her bag down. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “So I figured I’d alphabetize the self-help books by level of delusion.” Callie arched a brow. “What’s top of the list?” “‘Manifesting for Millionaires.’ Right above ‘Confidence in Six Minutes or Less.’”

"And He wouldn't hurt you in such a public place." When I was done picking the books, I left the store and decided to get something to eat. Back at the bookstore, I had bought two romance books, one on self-care and another on financial management. They were the most interesting for me and the financial management book made me miss my university days. It wasn't a textbook but it brought back many memories. My grip on the paper bag tightened as I thought of something bad. I went to school to be able to properly control my family's business and now, I couldn't even work in any cooperate businesses. I sighed and gave my head a light shake.

I would look at the problem name Rahul hanging on us later on, lets enjoy the some moments of peace life bestowed me with. 'BEING A GOOD WIFE.' Book in my hand caught my eyeballs. How could I expect anything more better from him? " Mr Selfish. I will see you." I said banging the book on the mattress. Who does wants to know the secrets of being a good wife? What does he think of himself? Does he mean that I am not a good wife and that the reason he wants me to read all this bullshit stuff. I will also gift you a bundle of books titled 'The Million Ways of Using Your Brain' , 'Being a Sensible Husband.', 'The Art of Being Alive', 'Taming the Beast Within You.' ...and some more...Huhh.

It was the best kind of job for me, I loved it and I got paid weekly, enough to eat, after my first paycheck, I had spent a full week starving, I tried to ask for my money beforehand but my boss who’s the meanest person ever, said no. How could such a cold hearted person be responsible for one of the best places in the world! There was no sleeping with a storm outside, I was up most of the night, I was up early and ready to go to work, I was slipping but pushed it down as I got out of her car and quickly walked over to the bookstore. I walked over to the children's books area, I was thankful no one was around as I sat down in a beanbag after grabbing a few books to read.

I say with a hint of reluctance in my voice. “Uh if you say so” his brows furrow as he looks around my place. Dissecting every piece of evidence of my life on display. The self proclaimed art work, my colorful aesthetic. The clean order of my compulsion. Even the titles of my books nearly make me feel exposed. I continue searching the place. Huffing around in annoyance as I can’t seem to locate my keys. “Em, what’s wrong? Are you ready to go”? “I can’t find my keys Reed” I say annoyed

The study was dark, so I opened the blinds and took in the room. It was very... August. Brown. Black. More black. Not a single color brave enough to survive in here. There was a minibar. I wasn't surprised to find it stocked mostly with expensive whiskey. The bookshelf took up almost an entire wall. Business books. Finance books. Leadership books. Books about making money. Books about keeping money. Books about probably becoming even more unbearable than he already was. Not one novel. Not even a guilty pleasure romance. What a sad life.

And he was addicted to his little girl’s tight pussy. This was only the first story in the book of our sins. There were ninety-nine more ways to damn ourselves still waiting. And I could not wait to fall even deeper.