Books On Political Science Novels & Stories

It was nearly 5:30 PM according to the clock, and would soon be a new moon by the look of it. He perused the books in the case, briefly scanning their titles. There were some dusty World War II tomes below, most likely George’s, and several of Glee’s books on cooking and gardens—and where was she, anyhow? He saw volumes about ancient Egypt and the pharaohs, the construction of the pyramids and such, while the upper shelves were filled with political books, everything from Pat Buchanan to Arianna Huffington, William F. Buckley Jr. to Gore Vidal. One title caught Richard off guard and made him laugh aloud: On Politics and the Art of Acting, by the playwright Arthur Miller.

How often did he sleep? Is this why he was always able to answer my calls, never once sounding tired? Some of the questions, I could guess the answer to. But others were different. I scanned the spines of his books, trailing a finger across them. Titles on alpha psychology, regional pack law, political theory, bloodline analysis, and inter-pack economics. And then: Dysfunctional Bloodlines: A Case Study, Rebellion Among Alpha Dynasties, The Origin of Golden-Eyed Wolves. Not a single book of fiction. Not even a stray poetry collection to soften the edges.

Bren laughed and cleared a space for Ava to take a seat, “Sometimes it doesn’t feel too far off, but most of these books aren’t for my classes. They’re for you?” “For me?” Ava cast a dubious glance at the pile, “Oh, Bren. That’s sweet of you to think of me, but I just don’t know how much I’ll really get out of…Democracy and the Cartelization of Political Parties.” Bren shot her a look of her own and set that particular book aside, “That one actually is for one of my classes. But never mind that it’s not about the books, it’s about what’s in them.” “What did you find?”

"Name your price. I want my rightful share. My mother's inheritance, including the shares in the overseas accounts, and the profits from the three Aelorian smuggling routes." Antonio's expression darkened instantly. "You're insane! Absolutely not. You're trying to gut half of the Corleone family's assets!" "Insane?" Elvira walked to the window and stared at the garden below. Her tone was calm, but the determination in it was unmistakable.