Books For Women Novels & Stories

she reassured and returned to her laptop, tapping away at the keys. The only unfamiliar woman in the room turned out to be Sam. She was as round as Jess. The two prepared to give birth on the same day. I sat down on the floor of the neatly-kept room. There was three big shelves of books filled with romance and fantasy novels. On first look, they seemed innocent with bright colours that it would make you think they were heartwarming romance novels. However, a look at the titles will have you giggling like a teenager. "I'm an avid reader," Sam claimed, recommending me books that would have my undies soaked. "Me too."

I nodded encouragement, curious myself about what Alex had chosen. She took the bag cautiously, as if it might contain something dangerous. Peering inside, her eyes widened. "Wow." "What is it, Em?" I asked, moving closer. She pulled out three books – beautifully illustrated hardcovers about space exploration, female scientists, and a novel featuring a young girl inventor. They were exactly the kind of books she loved, just like her had gotten her yesterday. "These are... really cool," she admitted reluctantly, examining the covers. "I wanted to read this one, but the library doesn't have it yet."

she retorted me prompting to look at her while keeping my gaze on the document laid out before me In the organization, I always avoided interacting with her since it was unnecessary most of the time. “I have something for you also,” she further said pulling a Gift box wrapped with paper. There was a huge, pink ribbon that surrounded the whole packaging and enraged me due to its tackiness. I thought for a while then I took the box from her hands. “You’re welcome,” She replied, I took it with a bit of suspicion and opened it with much anticipation for the worst. Turning it around I saw a pile of books. The titles made my stomach churn: “How can a woman become a better wife?”, “cooking tips for

It's about testimony. Instead, I'm reading at the foundation. Thirty women. That's who's here. Thirty women who have survived something. Who have made it to the other side of something that tried to break them. Who understand that a book like this isn't entertainment. It's witness. It's proof that the thing that happened to you doesn't have to be the final word on who you are.

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"Well, we have Tickle Your Fancy - A Woman's Guide to Sexual Self-Pleasure. Taking it off the shelf, I show her the cover. It has a picture of a woman with her eyes closed, head thrown back, apparently in the throes of self-pleasure. "What a great title," she says, looking at the book." It's been a long time since my fancy's been tickled properly." She's smiling as she flips the pages. Not wanting to walk away from this beautiful, sexually candid woman, I reach for a familiar yellow book and tell her, "of course, if you're really desperate, there's always Sex For Dummies." "Oh great! We just met and already you're calling me names!" she says flirtatiously. She looks me in the eyes and dips h

She sniffs, her face almost red with all the crying. "Yeah." Her words cut somewhere deep. We women are not strong? Well, I read a few books but none of them included women fighting with men in a war or something. They only fought verbally. So that is how it was back then? I believe it is something that has been going on for ages. Women are only verbally strong.

The library was silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of pages. I have always loved the hush of books, the way the world seemed to shrink to the space between the shelves. But tonight, the quiet felt different. I was shelving new acquisitions when I heard the soft click of heels on the polished wood. I turned, and saw Elena, the visiting author whose latest novel had captivated me more than I cared to admit. Elena’s eyes, dark and sharp, scanned the room before landing on me with an intensity that made my heart skip.

"Tell me now dear, what books do you enjoy reading?" Roxanne was surprised that the woman was being so calm and nice to her. The questions were asked out of genuine curiosity, not the dire need to humiliate her. All eyes were still on Roxanne as she answered, but she suddenly didn't feel so self aware anymore. There was a warm feeling that the woman's smile gave her, and Roxanne appreciated it. "Mostly classical literature and crime thrillers." Eloise appluaded her, a satisfied look glittered in her grey eyes.

I ask. He looks at me. “Don’t your books tell you how big of an age gap between children they have their children?” he asks me curiously. I laugh “My books are a little different. The one book, the woman was pregnant almost every year because they loved one another…” heat rushes to my face again. “Jesus Grace, I don’t think that’s healthy. I think your insides need at least two years to heal… I read that somewhere.” He shakes his head. “Do I need to ban certain books from you again?” he asks.