Books Of The Year Novels & Stories

Add my books to your library and read them. Thanks.

Silence. “I don’t.” said Kai. Jonas sighed. “The problem is that honest people can still be dangerous.” No one could reproach. Because that was true too. Aren looked through the library. On the shelves. On the clocks. Open doors. And suddenly he noticed something. Something that nobody had noticed before. The books. All the books were in perfect order. Not alphabetical. Not by author. Not by topic. After years. Every shelf was a year. 1901. 1902.

81) PEGI means Pan European Game Information. This organization is found to classify computer games in 31 European countries, Israel, and South Africa. The organization was established in 2003 and its job was to give an age rating identification after a comprehensive evaluation of the game. It is mainly divided into 5 types. They are 3+ (content for every period of age), 7+( content for players who is 7 years old or above), 12+( content for players who is 12 years old or above), 16+( content for players who is 16 years old or above) and 18+( content for players who is 18 years old or above). (Liu, p.82)

In this rare moment of peace, I’ve chosen a book, turned off the lights, and let the muted light from the cloudy sky illuminate the pages. A soft sigh escapes my lips as I glance down at the book on my lap. My finger traces the letters that read ′Book of Law’—this year’s edition. I’ve learned that a new one is printed annually, and Efrem possesses a copy of every single one, dating back to the very first one.

But she… didn’t flinch. Lena walked over to a little table display and picked up a thin, cloth-bound book. She walked over to him, holding it out like an offering. *The Quiet Between Lightning Strikes.* A poetry book. The cover was old and nubbly, the title scribbled in fine silver ink. Julian stared at it like it was an alien thing. "What's this?" "A book," she said, smiling. "I told you. I don't—"

The ladies all giggle and Julie stands, handing a new bookmark to each of us. "Yes. We figured we'd get you ones that suited you a little better." she says. The new one is dark blue with gold lettering that says 'Real men read dirty books'. I smile and look over at Ev who's showing Harper his excitedly. "These are great. Thank you." I say just as Bri nudges me. "Oh! Tell them your joke, love!" Harper says excitedly. Ev rolls his eyes before addressing the group.

Christmas was the reading of the book. This Christmas, Don's book was a novel—Norwegian, which was not a coincidence, a novel by the same writer whose essays were in the Norway reading programme. The novel was called The Dark Year, and it was about a man who spent a winter alone in a cabin in the far north of Norway, experiencing the full darkness for the first time. Don had been saving it since September, when he had finished the essays. He had placed it on the shelf above his desk, the designated holding place for the Christmas book, and had not opened it once.

Micheal’s POV: The first time I saw her book on a shelf in one of the Parisian bookstores, I had to stop myself from grinning like a fool. There it was, Stacey’s story, wrapped in glossy perfection, wedged between names that had shaped literature for decades. And it wasn’t just sitting there; it was selling. Everywhere I turned, people were talking about it. Colleagues mentioned it at work. Friends sent me texts with photos of their copies. Even Tessa had started proudly telling her classmates that her mommy had written “the book everyone was reading.”

Zann rushed inside, only to find the place empty and deathly quiet. My clothes were gone. The familiar kitchenware had vanished. Only a thin layer of dust covered the table. His heart sank. The gnawing feeling finally surged and washed over him. Just then, his assistant rushed over and handed him a package. Zann’s hands trembled as he tore it open. A cold urn came into view. The name Neve Steele burned into his eyes. “No! Impossible!” he roared, flinging the urn to the floor. “She must be throwing a tantrum, trying to scare me!”