Books On The Bay Savannah Novels & Stories

Savannah’s joy could be compared to one of a child at a candy store. Thinking at first that she was alone in the library, she made her way through the alcove of books, footsteps soundless over the red rug that lay sprawled beneath her, heading for the ladder that lay against the walls of books. From experience, Savannah knew that the best books were shoved away from reach and she was so giddy with excitement. But suddenly, the low yet heated murmur of voices coming from the tiny west door to her left alerted her. The privacy and quietness she really wanted was the last thing she could find here! Her heart stung with hurt and she desperately eyed the ladder, wishing she could just enact her f

FIFTEEN Bayou Cypress Pavilion for the Criminally Insane New Orleans You are closer to me than any of your predecessors BCP. She knew this place. It was once one of the leading state-run psychiatric institutions of the American South. Bayou Cypress Pavilion, better known as BCP, was now a crumbling shell of its former glory. The lobby and east wing were destroyed by the floods of Katrina and a subsequent fire that took a hundred and thirty-seven patients’ lives. Cassandra knew of every death that had occurred due to her storm.

“Chris?” Jackson nudged me with his elbow. I guess I’d been zoned out, thinking about Sav. When I turned to him, he continued. “It’s not just you that’s eating at Savannah,” Jackson said, staring out into the woods behind the house. “She’s been upset with how things have been going for a while. She wants to save the store, but the business isn’t the same. People usually shop online for books or they go to the big chain stores. Keeping extra inventory upstairs isn’t necessary.”

Asher DravenHart Her brows shot up. "Cursed books?" "No... what is your obsession with cursed books and creepy things?" I asked, laughing, "Those books just have sensitive information. Old treaties and bloodline records. That sort of thing. Things that could get you hurt if the wrong person sees you reading them." Savannah's mouth pressed into a determined line. "Noted." I had a feeling that she was going to read every single one, and most of them not brought to me first.

“Okay, I will have a look before heading to the dorm. See you, bye,” Savannah headed. It was noon, and most of the students were busy; she ran upstairs, as mentioned by Miss Elena. She looked around, her finger pad touching the spine of these old archives, and appreciated this beauty, and there her eyes landed on a glass box carrying an ancient book surrounded by some weird weapons and scaffoldings. She was about to look into it when someone snapped at her. “What are you doing here?” “Um. I am looking for some books,” “What books? None of the books here belong to freshman students; these are special books.” The older adult said.

--- 10:03 AM – Swamped Lot, South End Water still collected under the bridge, not deep but cloudy. Mud here was sticky, refusing to let go of the soles of their boots. A boy pointed at a submerged cabinet. "There were books inside. Kuya said they float." Elira squatted beside him. "Some do. Some resist." Caelan delivered a plastic crate. "Dry what we can. Stories get second chances as well." Half the books were salvaged by noon—wrinkled from water but in one piece. Volunteers giggled over damp covers, coming up with new titles. The Mysterious Case of the Mushy Notebook.