Books Like Ugly Novels & Stories

“We’ll try a spoon of applesauce in a bit. Then soup if the gods smile.” She made a face I mentally captioned bribable. “You brought books,” she said, as if she had to confirm it was real and not a fever hallucination. “I did. No onions.” Her laugh tumbled out—rough around the edges, precious because it was possible. “Thank you. For all of it. The ugly parts included.” “That’s part of the thing,” I said. “The bad and the boring. The good is easy. The ugly is where the vows go.”

There was no way it wouldn't end in a very ugly way. And despite the growing need to show him that I was there, and that no other girl who answered his Stories was more interesting than me, I also didn't want to make it clear to him that I would be available at any time to answer his messages, but I couldn't pretend to myself that I was at the mercy of someone I barely knew, and it was very wrong to admit God forgive me, but I judged a book a lot by its cover. And Flynn Ashton's book seemed to me like the bible, so angelic that man seemed to me.

Both the pre-ruin and the post-ruin, I wasn't ready for any of it. My movements came to a halt when my gaze flitted across the street and landed on the poster of the new Fantasy series I had been waiting on; All the Beautiful Things. It was a trilogy. All the beautiful things are red, All the beautiful things are gold, and All the beautiful things are black. It was more like Romantasy actually. A wide grin crept up my face and I looked sideways, before slipping towards the bookstore even though I knew there was no car in sight. Volxe bookstore.

Miranda didn’t expect that she’s this known to young adults, especially to the ones attending a strict boarding school. “I read your book Falling to the Depths, when will you release the fifth part? I couldn’t get over the last book!” Miranda hid the sadness in her smile. She too, couldn't get over it. “Most of you love my work, thank you,” Miranda appreciated the students. Miranda looked at the class in front of her and smiled sweetly, "And how even the most powerful person could feel powerless in front of the person they love."

They put it above her grave. She knows how Cassandra feels. She can't blame her since they suffered trauma, tragedy, and misjudgment in their life. Cassandra was like her. She saw her reflection to her. Her mom died early and her dad always running from the thugs and she was left alone to live. Everyone looked down on her and hurt her but in the end, she rose like a queen and stomped everyone comes her way. She became unbreakable from the mistakes she made in her life. She learned one thing that betrayal isn't what makes you feel better, it will only make your life harder. You will ruin your future. "Let's go, baby. Let's have some cold craze!", Lucy took Austin's hands and promise him to bu

Nothing about it was fair any more. These past few years Jane had begun to accept the fact that she wasn't one of the Waleskis. And she had started writing a book called the Unfair Life of Jane, Plain, and Short. It wasn't a real book, just a list of experiences and even that made Jane wonder whether the universe had something in the particular against her. For example:

I preferred stories like the sleeping beauty and all. 'Oh, it's a tale about a very Ugly Duckling who believed he was the ugliest creature ever. He never actually saw for himself, he just listened to others who told him he was ugly and unloveable. He believed people's words and he never listened to himself. It took him so long to realize he is actually the most beautiful swan ever.' Maybe it was the way he said it that pulled my eyes to his. He was looking at me with an intensity I've never seen before. I cleared my throat and looked away.

here I was drowning myself in self-pity. What was worse was the fact that my fiance had severely injured my mother over something that could have been handled by the authorities which now was something I could no longer use due to my fiance being the center of the damage control that was to take place if the police were to be involved. From floating on air to crashing face first into the sidewalk of misfortune I found myself lost/confused and hurt beyond measure from all of those I once held close to my heart. I felt alone and confused about what I should do next with José, would I forgive him for what he has done? Could I ever forgive her or him...was I capable of being sympathetic to eith

The place is small, cramped, and claustrophobic. The air is thick with cigarette smoke. Empty liquor bottles litter the counters, some on the floor. The walls, fuck, the paint is peeling in strips, stained with things I don't want to think about. Every surface looks sticky. This is what my doll comes home to? This dump? This mess, it isn't her. It isn't Beatrice. This disaster reflects more on her mother than anything else. It makes me want to burn the whole fucking place to the ground just so she never has to look at it again.

Sometimes we go to a book club which we both love. “Ugly Love by Colleen Hoover.” “Oh my God. I love that book. It made me cry.” “Yeah I know. It’s the third time I’m reading it.” I put some laughing emojis on the message. “What are you reading?” I ask her. “Things We Left Behind. Lucy Score.” She has placed heart emojis and book emojis at the end of her message. “Oh wow. I love that book. I’ve read the two after it. You need to get them.” I tell her, noticing that a smile is on my face as I lay here in the dark.