Books On The Nightstand Novels & Stories

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.

"Duly noted, and no snoring, I like having a peaceful night sleep." Nikolai scoffed and turned off the bedside lamp on his side, but I leaned over to switch on mine. I wasn’t ready to sleep yet. My nerves were still buzzing, and I needed something to distract me. To distract me from all this, from Nikolai and his family and my own thoughts. I reached for one of the books I’d brought with me from home. "The Housemaid" by Freida McFadden. The author that Leo and I had talked about during dinner.

“I think you’d be prettier if you didn’t hide your face behind a book.” I placed the book on my thigh and stared at Azrael who had a gentle smile on his face before he moved closer. “What about your partner?” Azrael asked as I shook my head. “What’s the name of the book you’re reading?” Azrael asked as I stared at the book. “Dreams and Nightmares by Sidney Raul.” I replied. “What’s it about?” Azrael asked.

And even when they hadn’t… I no longer let them land. I had too much peace in me now. There wasn’t room for shame anymore. Back at the house, I carried the books Darren had ordered for the nursery upstairs and placed them on the newly assembled shelf. They were all hardcovers with soft pastel covers and gold-stamped lettering: Goodnight Moon, The Velveteen Rabbit, Where the Wild Things Are, Dream Big, Little One, I Am Enough. I traced the spine of each book with my fingertip, whispering the titles softly.

Eventually, her grip loosens, and she falls asleep, her head still on my shoulder. I gently lay her back on the bed and pull the covers over her, tucking her in. As I turn to leave, I notice a book on her nightstand, its title catching my eye. "The Art of Seduction." I chuckle to myself, wondering if she's been using its tactics on me. I turn off the light and close the door behind me.

"We'll be back shortly." "Take your time," Spencer said, reaching into his bag and taking out a paperback novel he'd started ages ago but never seemed to have time to get to. He was hoping he wouldn't have time this weekend either, thinking he'd be fucking Peri until they both collapsed, but he'd stuck the book in his bag anyways. As the women disappeared into the bathroom, he pulled the covers down and climbed into one of the beds, pulling his t-shirt off and tossing it towards his bag of clothes.

"You shouldn't meddle because it's none of your business." "That's not true because it's definitely my business." He shot back boldly. With his arms folded, his gaze directed at me, he started. "I noticed how you barely had any sleep. Recently, you skipped two important meetings with the council. Rumors has been spreading that their Alpha is losing it, all because if a ghost. If this has anything to do with her..."

He slammed the door shut. Noah lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His room was well furnished and was everything a standard room should be. A large bookshelf was at one end of the room. It was always filled with the latest novels. He stretched his hand a picked the novel on his bedside table. He usually read novels to pass time. He finished one every night and it was replaced with a new one in the morning by the servant. Unknown to anyone, he had insomnia. He seldom slept , hence, he used the novels to pass time. As he took the book, a photo fell out.

It had felt real. Welcome rays of daylight and reality peeked through dark blue sheaths as his bedroom curtains came into focus. He scanned the familiar clutter that lay on the black dresser and armoire by the door, as well as on the nightstand to his right. His eyes fell to the stack of books lying there. To root himself he read the titles: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Running With Scissors, and Corrections. Underneath them lay Books Do Furnish a Room, photographs of home libraries he loved to look at to inspire his design creativity. He was an architect after all, even if he was a werewolf.

It had not destroyed it, but it had touched it. She walked toward the bed first. The sheets were still on it, coated in a thick layer of gray dust. On the nightstand, a book lay open, its pages curled and brown. A pair of reading glasses rested beside it, one arm folded, the way someone might set them down before turning off the lamp. She imagined Dominic Blackwood reading in bed while Helena brushed her hair at the dressing table. She imagined them talking about their sons, about business, about ordinary things. She imagined them not knowing that the hours left to them could be counted in minutes.