Books Set In Maine Novels & Stories

“So, where is it you’re living again? Vermont? Rhode Island?” “Maine. We live in Maine now.” “Right. I’ll be.” Silence. “Maple syrup and Stephen King—you mean that Maine?” Richard grinned. “That would be the one. Don’t forget the lobsters, though.” “Course not.” Another pause, then: “Ever seen him?” “What?” “Stephen King—ever seen him? Spotted him standing in line at the post office, or in Long John Silver’s or anywhere? You know.” “Not yet,” Richard chuckled. “I hear he’s starting to winter in warmer climes. Can’t do the snow and cold anymore. Or doesn’t want to, I suppose. Bones took a real pounding after that accident.”

I have never had an office job before, and I am quite excited about the experience. I have checked a few tips online to avoid making amateur mistakes, but sadly, I don't know the name of his company, so I am going in blind. Ma seems happy and content with the new job, and it makes me hope I will be as well. She has been gushing about the mansion and all the appliances available to ease her work and how kind everyone is. I decided to drag myself off the soft mattress and went searching for Ma to see if she needed help in any way. When I found her, she was busy, with Maria acquainting her with our boss's favorite dishes and the recipes.

Finn hissed at him, but he rolled his eyes. “She’s not paying attention, Finn! Goddess!” “Anyway…these will still work perfectly for the room you will need moving forward. Like I said. Two domestic, one is in California and the other is in Maine. Very different places, but both are beautiful homes and lots of space. The one in California you actually own a slice of the beach. The Maine house abuts the forest which you own the land for that as well.” Finn pulled out some photos and maps.

it was odd being able to hear our sister through mind link and I wondered why she had waited so long to make herself known. She turns to face me “I wanted to meet my mate, it was nothing to do with you” she looks back to a large house that looks like it has seen better days, the roof was missing in places, windows were smashed, even the front door was hanging off its hinges. “This is your pack house?” I couldn’t help but snigger, it was shambles for such a mighty pack. Kiwi shakes her head “No, we relocated several years ago, but this is the old packhouse where Damon is keeping Charlie”

The air itself changed, discarding the soot and tension of the city for the pungent, clean scent of pine and sea. The Maine coast house was not ostentatious like the penthouse. It was a shingled, stoutly constructed home, weathered to a soft grey by centuries of Atlantic storms, standing on a rocky headland as though it had grown there. Its windows looked out over an endless stretch of bucking, steel-blue water, a sight that made men's troubles seem ludicrously tiny.

Mains said, running his fingers over the cover where the text was, "this came from onbe of the crates from the old town hall storage. There are two more in the corner, I'm much too old to be lugging crates of books all arounmd the joint." I was halfway across the room before he could finish his sentence, gathering both heavy crates under my arms and shifting under their weight as I carried them over to our work bench. I slid one over to Mains and took on the task of sorting through the other myself, carefully piling papers and charts together. My fingers brushed along the bottery soft leather of the spine before my eyes had registered on it, and I pulled out the identical journal from my cra

“This is amazing! I can already picture the illustrations for our story.” As they explored the main room, they discovered remnants of the past—an old, rusted stove, a tattered armchair, and a dusty bookshelf filled with cracked spines. Jace brushed his fingers across the books, intrigued by their titles, some of which seemed to speak of adventures and mysteries. “Look at this one!” Mia exclaimed, pulling a book from the shelf. It was titled *Whispers of the Woods*. “It’s about the legends surrounding this area. We have to read it!”

He was irritated by me and I didn't give a shit… I ate to my fullest and looked around. I peeked out the window and saw the sea. I read some books on my mother's shelf, one that had something to do with geography. From what I can remember, this place is Maine. Very close to Portland. That means we're not really far from home. I sighed and went to the door. My first attempt to open the door was shockingly surprising. The door was opened. I wasn't caged after all or the silky man forgot to lock me in.

“Thank you, sir. I’m Amerie. Your shop is lovely. Do you have any books or old maps of the surrounding area? I’d love to learn more about my new home.” “Ah, of course. Down the third aisle toward the end you’ll find one book by Caneen alongside some old maps.” He pointed at the aisle. Amerie thanked him and went to the book and maps. She took a bite of the chocolate pastry as she glanced at the shelves. As she walked down the aisle, she noticed small wolves carved into the columns of the bookshelves. The book Tom had mentioned seemed old yet not very worn. The front cover was black with a golden paw print, and the author’s name was in green at the top. The spine of the book read “The Town of

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. The Very Thought of You (The Thorntons Book 2) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2017 by Iris Morland Cover design by Resplendent Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of b