Books Like The Book Thief Novels & Stories

Erika couldn't answer what Lei said to the two of them, telling them the real story of the war that had killed Erika's parents. "My niece will help you get over what you're going through with your daddy before I help you awaken your powers. I hope that in time you'll accept who you really are. I know that won't be easy for you," Lei said, turning the book back to normal and handing it to Erika. Lei said that normal people couldn't read what was in the book because the book she gave him was not ordinary. "That book is only for deities except for my niece and I, so we can read it because we're not ordinary," Lei replied.

It smelled of rank B&O and stale fries. When he got to his feet, he was a little dizzy, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He had found some old books and a few blades stain with what looked like blood. He started digging around on the desk hoping to find something, but he didn’t know what. That is when he came across an old leather-bound book with strange writing across it. He saw the pictures of a crystal cross that had emeralds lined down the middle. Well, that helped Thomas understand why the cross ended up being very important but why did he have a piece of it?

I turned it on, but there was nothing good. It was 11 o’clock. The truth was that I was a little bit tired, but I didn’t want to sleep without saying goodnight to him and thanking him for his hospitality. I remembered the library in the small room. It was full of books. I could find something to kill my time while waiting. There were different kinds of books. From history to fiction, and fairytales, but what caught my interest were a bunch of books right in the middle of the selves with black and golden binding.

Just enough room existed for me to fly straight up and back down to get to my special items. I had a big stack of books I kept right next to my bed. Gera usually found them on the side of the road, sometimes left outside the door of the library, not properly tucked into the slots. Some of them were so old and battered the words were barely visible, but I kept them anyway. Beggars can't be choosers, as the humans say. I liked to think that one day I would bring back the books that were still nice enough for the library, and buy some of my own. I didn't want to be a thief even if Gera was technically responsible for the thefts.

I try for my words to sound Stern but even I could hear the uncertainty drenched into my voice. “Of course.” Victor nodded as he approach me before leaning in closer. “If this was anyone else you would not have gotten away with this.” He whisper into my ear as I pass him. I figured that would be the case, but I was never one hundred percent certain; I couldn’t believe that he would let it go so far. Even with the death of his only son, until now. I had my suspicion before but I wasn’t in any position to ask questions. I grew up in this house. I learnt everything I know by slipping through these halls as a kid. I heard things for god-sake. I delivered those checks to the children’s home every

Books that offered shelter to those still lost in the storm. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sweet air of that late afternoon, feeling the warmth of Luka, the solidity of Elias, and the heartbeat of Zion against her back. She thought of the seventeen-year-old girl who had walked into that bookstore on a rainy afternoon, seeking refuge in someone else’s pages because she still didn’t know that one day she would have her own to offer. She thought of the broken woman she had been, of the painful but necessary crossing, of the moments when she had almost given up.

Nora was asking about countries fro‍m the puz⁠zle, and I thoug‍ht may‌be b‌o⁠oks co⁠uld m‌ake it right, could turn his creepy gi‌f⁠t into s‌omet‍hing g‌ood⁠. T⁠he libr⁠ary was quiet. Nora ran to the‌ kids‍’ secti‍o‍n. I was looking⁠ at travel books‍ when I felt that old,‍ cold feelin⁠g on my neck. Someone was wa‌tching. I turned.⁠

It’s not a particularly good smell—no one would make a cologne out of it—but it eases my chest and makes me feel languid and weightless, like I’m floating in space. I’m hardly paying attention as Justus takes all the books out of the crate to get a hardback at the very bottom. I hadn’t noticed it earlier. It’s an old children’s book. Thumbelina. The fabric cover is threadbare in places, and the gold embossed lettering is tarnished. I remember the story vaguely from the early years at Moon Lake Academy. It’s a human fairy tale.

she murmured, tilting her head. Drawn by fascination, she found the rolling ladder attached to the bookshelf and climbed carefully. Her fingers trailed over several thick volumes—Blood Oaths and Moonlight, Fangs of Fire, The Treaty of Shadows. The illustrations on the covers were beautiful yet chilling, with fanged creatures, glowing eyes, and moons stained crimson. With great care, she pulled down four books and descended, arms full. She found the oversized reading chair near the window and curled into it, flipping open the first book.

Like you. Your sister, Zee. I glanced up from the letter and stared at the old church at a distance. I was at the address that she had left for me. The neighbourhood was quiet and looked almost abandoned. I lived in a block where there were children everywhere, old people jogging, parents yelling and pets barking and mewing. But this place was straight out of a haunted movie. I rubbed the corner of my eyes, feeling them moist. I had to stop reading this letter, for fuck’s sake.