Books Like The Shining Novels & Stories

Seraphina’s POV The flames were dying. Ash curled upward in the suffocating dark of the library, thin spirals of smoke clinging to the vaulted ceiling like desperate prayers that refused to rise. The last of the glowing pages fell into cinders on the stone floor, and the light it had given us—the fragile, blessed shield—dissolved into nothing. Beyond that circle of dying fire, the monsters closed in, shadows weaving between bookshelves, claws dragging over wood and stone, eyes like fragments of the abyss.

"You are my Light that illuminates the Darkness within me..." Never before could I have thought that these words would evoke such great emotions in me and would be associated with a person who completely turned my world upside down. There were actually two people who did this, but one in particular shook my heart especially hard.

Klark, ‘Tribid Greed’ by Steve Reynolds, and a lot of other books. One by one Trisha returned all the books she'd picked. When she was beginning to get tired and unmotivated, the corner of her eyes perceived a strange book on a shelf not too far from where she was. Its spines were tattered and appeared like spiky wires beneath the poor lighting.

The bookshelf was just as tall as Andrew so he could easily access the books there. The bookshelf had all sorts of books, ranging from fictional novels to nonfictional novels, to educational novels and textbooks. Her eyes caught titles like; The Redwall series by Brian Jacques, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros and a lot more. Even the Encyclopedia was in his bookshelf. And there was also some novels on the basis of business and finance. The book the lad was currently reading was The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

I need to take time. I remember the small room I entered last time. I slowly opened the door and turned on the lampshade. The books on the table were still scattered. I tried to look and read each one of them. These are all interesting books. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a lot more. I tried to find something that might help me, but I found nothing.

If he can see every move I make, how will I ever make a move against him? During my rampage of a small bookshelf on the wall next to the bed, I find classic books such as, The Catcher in the Rye, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and so on. Spotting amongst the classics a leather bound book with no title or author. I slowly open it and inside handwritten pages are revealed. May 12th 1998

Well, while I caught my breath. While Orion scanned our surroundings, peering through the narrow gaps in between each shelf to the maze beyond, I found myself looking over the books at our backs. There were tombs both big and small, thick and thin, bound in various types of leathers and fabrics. Some had thick layers of dust clinging to them, while others appeared almost new. Another shelf moved, opening a path directly ahead of us. Towards the bottom sat a book that glowed, emitting a golden light brighter than that of the torches. It pulsated, flickering and dancing, and I had the strangest thought that it was calling out to me.

Brielle lay curled beside David in the center of his cavernous bed, the silk sheets tangled around her legs, one bare shoulder peeking through. The room was quiet, softened by the amber light from the lamp on his nightstand. David sat against the headboard with a thick history book open in his lap, glasses perched on his nose, looking like sin dressed as sophistication.

Mason. The golden morning sun spills into the library, creating spectral dancing patterns on the brown wooden floor. A little ray shading on my face but that didn't deter my attention from the fantasy book I was reading. I blink away the tiredness forming on my eyelids for the umpteenth time, flicking to the next page. Not attempting to allow myself to fall asleep. I can't! Every fucking time I close my eyes I can't help but see a bloody vivid image of that gore sight I saw earlier. It makes my skin crawl. I hate it!

He made to turn back and head inside when she suddenly took off her sunshades and looked in his direction. “Shawn?” She called out in Surprise. TIFFANY'S POV After having her lunch of fried potatoes, eggs and juice, she had rested a bit before heading for the pool. She laid in the cabin chair, wore her shades while immersing herself in one of James Hadley Chase books. She loved crime books and JHC style of writing made her love that particular genre the More. She knew the moment she was no longer alone, and swiftly took off her shades only to find Shawn staring at her.