Books I Read Journal Novels & Stories

Amazing, what is a better way to distract yourself than reading some dark romance books filled with smut. I got in the library and instantly felt a bit calm. Grabbing my favourite four books I got seated in a cosy comfortable corner, and started reading. An hour later I closed the fourth book in my hands as I groaned frustratingly. For god sake what's wrong with me? I couldn't even read a single book completely. I tried to read them for fifteen minutes and then put them aside while picking up another book. All of these books are my fucking comfort favourite books that I have re-read for so many times. The books whose MMC are my, to heart, book boyfriends.

Help yourself to one of those. ‘You mean read?’ ‘That is what people usually do with books.’ With a short sigh of impatience, Theodore wandered over to examine the neat rows of titles which lined an entire wall of her sitting room. The only things he ever read were financial papers or contracts, or business-related articles he caught up with when he was travelling. Occasionally his attention would be caught by some glossy car magazine, which would lure him into changing his latest model for something even more powerful. But he never read books. He had neither the time nor the inclination to lose himself in the world of fiction. He remembered that stupid story he’d read at school—about some a

When my shift ended, I found myself walking toward the corner table where Kael sat, his laptop closed now, a book in his hands. I stopped short when I saw the cover. ‘Knot We Cannot Untie.’ That was the book he was holding. I can't believe that Kael would be reading one of Linda Lively’s books. “You read… this?” I said, the surprise evidently in my voice. Kael looked up, one brow raised. “Why? You think I only read racing magazines and bank statements?” I gave a small laugh. “Chill bro. It’s just… not what I was expecting ”

Thursday, 13 February 2014 11:00pm Dear Jennifer, I have decided to write a personal journal to help me cool off my head over the tough times I face with my family. Should anything weird happen to me one day, I hope this book will find its way to you and help solve the riddles around my situation. I am not predicting something bad to happen to me or my family any soon; however, the future, and all its occurrences, is inevitable.

Piling them, one on top of the other, my only hope was that if anyone else should come into the house and entered this room, that no one would notice their state in the dim light of the room. Gathering my equipment and carefully placing the journal in my backpack, I vowed to continue reading the book as soon as I had the opportunity.

she said. I looked down at the veritable mountain of books. The titles ranged from “Disorders of the Mind: Wolf Psychosis and Beyond” to “Hidden Illnesses and Ways to Find Them”. I had already read several of them, but rereading them wouldn’t hurt. “Thanks.” I shoved the last bite of my second sandwich into my mouth, washed it down with the rest of my coffee, then hopped down from the filing cabinet and gathered everything up. “I’ll get started right away.”

Cassie - After reading the first couple of sentences, I have to stop, go back and reread it carefully. I am incredibly surprised by what I am seeing written on the page. I carefully close the book, Using my finger as a bookmark so as not to lose the page Alpha wants me to read from, so that I can look at the front cover and I see it is a relatively standard, plain black-leather covered book with no image or writing on the front, but when I decide to check the spine, which is also blank, I see it is well worn, which means it has been opened and closed many times in the past. I open the book again and flip back to the first page of the book deciding to read the inscription handwritten there in

Nearby, an old phonograph stood as a testament to the music that once filled the air, its dusty needle poised mid-spin. Curiosity led them to a collection of weathered journals on a nearby bookshelf. Carefully opening one of the journals, they discovered handwritten entries that chronicled the lives and thoughts of previous occupants. These intimate accounts offered glimpses into the joys, sorrows, and dreams of those who once sought solace within these walls.

I muttered to myself. Then I opened the safe and looked inside. There was only one book inside. It was old, as if it had been around for years. I slowly brought it out and when I opened the first page, I read out loud. "My journal. . ." I trailed as an involuntary shiver suddenly seized. This had to be it. It had to contain everything. There were some pages protruding outward like they were not pieces of the same book.

I just thought in my mind that if I am really with her how much happy she could be because if sitting with her makes her that happy. She then told me that she really really missed me, and I told her "I am right here in front of you, why are you missing me?", and she told me "Yaar, I am stilling missing you, this is very awkward", and I told her that "Don't worry I am here with you always!", we just sat there and talked all the time. I told her that I used to write notes about how I felt each day and she asked me if she could read them, and I made her read one of the note that I wrote on the day of the COA exam, and she was really overwhelmed after reading that, she even said "I love you" and