Books Like Shutter Island Novels & Stories

"I was on an island, totally alone. It was essentially only a fix of sand, encompassed by miles and miles of sea. A wonderful holy messenger plummeted out of the mists, traveling in my direction. Alongside her, a bunch of steps showed up, unadulterated white and driving very high. Be that as it may, when she broadened her long, pale white hand, I was unable to take it. I came to as hard as possible, however just before I might get inside a foot of those steps and the lady, would move farther away. Right underneath me, notwithstanding, it was an alternate story. The sand thundered and turned as hot as coals. The fire was quickly moving underneath my feet. I yelled in torment, going around the

Calm Before the Storm (Isabella's POV) The library smelled like old paper and cedar polish. Sunlight slanted through tall windows, catching dust motes that floated lazy in the air. I’d slipped away after the snowball fight, cheeks still pink from cold and laughter, needing quiet to sort through the mess inside my head. Shelves stretched high, packed with leather-bound books that looked older than the pack itself. I pulled one down at random, thick, dark cover stamped with a crescent moon. Ancient Mate Bonds: Stories of the Moon Goddess’s Gift and Curse. My fingers traced the title. I sank into a worn armchair, opened it, and started reading.

Mom supported me, not because she understood, but because she loved me and wanted me to be happy. I stood up and walked around the library, feeling a little restless. They had all of the classics, and some of them looked as though they were expensive copies. Other authors that I regularly read, such as James Patterson and Dean Koontz were on the shelves. They even had some of my female favorites, such as Lisa Jackson, Lisa Gardner and Heather Graham Pozzessere. Then I wondered down to another section where I found some more provocative books. They had a lot. “You are not stupid people and you know why I initially came to the island. Do you think that I am some kind of loose woman?”

I do not have the stamina to wield both weapons for long, and I am exhausted by the time I return to the castle with the Duke after midday. I arrive at the Duke's bedroom with a pitcher of clean water when I discover the Duke and his mistress are making up for the day before. Both were in a heated embrace, and I do not want to witness anything further. I silently close the door, leaving the pitcher on the office desk. The scene should not bother me, but it does. I need a distraction. I sit on the ground outside of the closed office door after I grabbed the book "The Odyssey," which the Duke must have returned to his library. I am at the end of the second

She becomes aware of a presence nearby the way you become aware of a temperature change: not a sound, just an alteration in the quality of the air. She looks toward the shelves. Through the gap in the shelves, in the next aisle, Gage Sterling is standing at an angle to her, his attention entirely on the shelf in front of him. He has a book open in his hands — not pretending to read but actually reading, a few lines, the way people do when they can’t wait until they get home. His body is calm and still. He is wearing a dark teal surf shirt and sand-colored linen pants. His blue-green eyes like the Atlantic ocean, look here, and there entirely out of the context in which she has arranged him

A wave of profound relief washed over his features, and he nodded gratefully before turning his attention back to the simmering food. I dropped the subject and happily helped him set the table. We put on our favorite Atlantis tracks, letting the music fill the background as we shared our meal. A deep, untouchable peace settled over me while we ate, surrounded by his gentle glances and warm smiles. If it were up to me, I would choose to stay on this island forever, just the two of us, entirely isolated from the rest of the world, perfectly safe and happy in our own little paradise.

Shane accompanied me upstairs at Isla’s request, reading the multiple books my daughter thrust his way without complaint, and I was under no disillusion as to the power of her puppy-dog eyes, settling in beside him on the bed as he obligingly opened the colorful cover of the first one. At any rate, her expressive, brown orbs had drooped shut halfway through the third book, and I carefully extricated myself from the tangle of her small arms around me, tiptoeing from the room behind Shane after he’d placed the books he’d been holding back on the shelf against the far wall. Warmth irradiated from where our thighs had been smashed together in the limited space available, and I couldn’t keep my c

There was also a flutter of excitement, something light and hopeful, that made her stomach churn with nervous energy. Isla’s hands trembled slightly as she held onto the book she had been reading earlier. The edges of the pages dug into her palms, but she couldn’t bring herself to loosen her grip. It was as if the physical act of holding onto the book was her only tether to reality, grounding her in the midst of a whirlwind of emotions. Her thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the way her body was responding to his mere presence.

Or for very long, seeing how new it looked. I stepped from the door and headed over to the desk, curious as to what treasures were left inside. I wasn't able to leave the room, so why not see what was in here? There were two drawers and the rest of the storage were bookshelves. After looking at the few books, also covered in dust, I moved down to the drawer. The middle drawer opened without a problem, which only contained pencils and paper. The next drawer off to the side was locked. Gently, I lowered the shotgun I was holding onto and reached into my pocket to pull out the knife. In realized when I didn't find anything in my pocket that I'd given it to Claire.

Maintain a stable rest cycle. Jun terminated the link, depositing his slate onto the cedar table before adjusting his stride toward the sleeping quarters. Inside the timber room, my frame lay right alongside Isabella on the heavy furs, our voices dropping into low, rhythmic acoustic murmurs as we exchanged thoughts like brothers bonded by ancient blood. Jun immediately backed his weight out of the doorway, sliding the wood panel shut without emitting a single sound. Because Isabella and my line shared an unbreakable history on the ice, no matter how violently Ada and I locked jaws on the circuit, Jun’s strategic bias consistently leaned toward my flank.