Book With Coffee Novels & Stories

Is it from another window? I drink my coffee, I enjoy the big hit of the caffeine drinks. Hope it works again tonight. Oh.. Please caffeine, please make my every nerves alive, and energized, especially my eyes. I went upstair to my room. A very interesting book... Yes I need that to stay awake. Something funny.. I search the bookshelf, the only precious things that I have. My books. Comedy... Comedy.. I am busy looking for a funny book, when suddenly two big hands hugs me from my back. It gave me a shiver, the hands belong to the devil himself.

I’m just debating between these two books, ' I said pensievely. ‘Get them both, I’ll pay’ he offered. ‘Uhm, no you will not’ I sternly replied, ‘You have done more than enough for me already on this trip’. ‘Well, I’ll buy one for you then’ ‘No’. I finished simply. I decided to keep Julia Child’s Book of wisdom. I paid for my book that the clerk stamped with their signature seal. I slipped the book into a canvas bag with the store’s logo I had also purchased. I was excited to start reading my new book. Sasha led me to a café buying us each a cup of coffee and some pastries. We walked the streets for a while before heading back to our hotel in a taxi.

I grab the coffee beans and start the process of making a double mocha americano coffee. The earthy notes from the freshly ground coffee beans and the lazy undertones of caramel drifts into my nostrils and relaxes my nerves. Usually, I don’t need to drink a cup of coffee to enjoy the pleasant sensations it provides. As I whip up some cream, I start humming the song playing in the background and smile to myself. It’s a new beginning for Espresso Books. I’ve felt that way since my brother announced the previous owner sold off the building and business to some rich guy.

She rolled her eyes, tossing her ponytail as she spotted him through the café’s glass door, his slumped figure trudging toward Lily’s. I yanked my baseball cap lower, adjusting my oversized sunglasses, and spun my chair so my back was to the entrance. The bookshop was cozy, all warm wood tables and shelves stuffed with colorful spines, the air thick with coffee and that musty smell of old books. A couple of customers flipped through novels nearby, and the espresso machine hissed in the background. I grabbed my cappuccino, the foam tickling my lip as I took a quick sip. “Not happening, babe,” I shot back, keeping my voice low.

"One macchiato and one chocolate mousse cake, please." After paying for her order, she went to the shelves to find a good book to read as she decided to stay in the café for hours. The smell of the classic, high-quality books lingered in her nostrils. It always gave her a feeling of comfort and home. Any bookworm and geek could relate to what she felt. It was a priceless feeling that she could never trade for any other material thing in the world.

No one was up yet, classes hadn’t started, and I’m sure everyone was going to take every opportunity to sleep in while they had the chance. The café was called ‘The Grind.’ I snorted at the name. Not only did it represent ground coffee, but also grinding when studying. The coffee scent hit me and I practically melted. I ordered my usual, a dirty chai latte, and nestled into one of the overstuffed chairs. As soon as I opened the book, I was lost in the story. Even though I had read it before, I was still lost. The details, the characters, everything drew me in, and I couldn’t help but melt when the male main character flirted with the female main character.

39 I drink coffee until it makes my heart beat too fast. The refills are free and the waitress doesn’t talk to me like I’m a kid. This is why I stay, I guess. The way it feels like I’m okay to be here. The way it feels safe. The seats around me fill up with singles and duos. Laptops and notebooks. Actual books, too. I don’t have anything to occupy my hands or my eyes except the cup in front of me. I test out white sugar versus brown sugar. Sweetener. Sweetener and white sugar. Sweetener and brown. Cup by cup. I don’t look at the people around me. Something about them seems too real. The things they’re frowning at, mouthing at, even as they sit alone and type stuff or write stuff or make thei

But it was kind of hard to focus when people around me were whispering about how I was now working for the devil. Their words, not mine. Taking a deep breath, I narrowed my eyes at the book, trying to read the precise steps for making Alaric’s coffee. Yes, if you hadn’t guessed by now, there was an entire freaking recipe on how to prepare Alaric’s black coffee—right there in the massive book Liam had given me earlier. Honestly, I had considered leaving the so-called dictionary in my office and just making a regular coffee because, really, how hard could it be to make a black coffee with no sugar or milk?

I leisurely flipped the corner of the page of the book I read quietly on the small café’s exterior terrace. The last rays of the sun shone brightly on what was a perfectly normal day for me. I had ordered my usual—a strong cup of coffee and a croissant. I came to this particular café every day for the last month, and the server didn’t even have to ask me what I wanted since I always got the same thing. Hence, the usual.

I tell her and drive off in my sweet silver panamera. ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ Okay so like in my defense I didn’t stop at a coffee shop. I eye the cup of creamy coffee goodness in my left hand as I walk down the bookstore aisle. How was I supposed to know that the new bookstore across my street would be selling coffee too? It’s a temptation that I couldn't just ignore. I bought a medium size to make myself feel less guilty but…argh…whatever.