Books Set In Maine Novels & Stories

He left the room. A fierce winter covered the forests with heavy snow-clusters and icicles, and filled ravines to their edges with drifts, so that the whole land seemed a single white plain. Great, sudden storms came, in which men and herds were lost under the pall of snow; roads grew misleading and perilous. A lonely Jaweldur howled in the distance.

Five years later, the Maine coast remained as rugged and indifferent to the world as ever. The salt air had a way of scouring the past, leaving only the essentials: the granite cliffs, the whispering pines, and the rhythmic pulse of the tide. Julian Thorne sat on the porch of the timber-framed house, a laptop open on his knees. He wasn't tracking stock prices or intercepting encrypted transmissions. He was reviewing the architectural plans for a new school in the village—one funded by a "blind trust" that no one could quite trace back to a source.

Main Street stretched out before her, a postcard-perfect vision of coastal Maine—weather-worn storefronts, American flags snapping in the salt-tinged breeze, and flower boxes that somehow still bloomed despite the October chill. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone. Where newcomers were noticed. Where a woman running from her past would stand out like blood on snow. Maya's stomach twisted. This was a mistake. But she'd already spent the last of her cash on the bus ticket, and the attorney's office was just three blocks away according to the map on her phone. She shouldered her duffel bag and started walking, keeping her head down, making herself as invisible as possible. She

“A tale tells of local pirates coming over from time to time, out on this side of the sea” The voice of Makai, broke out, earning the chuckles from the number of sight-seers, who seemed to be enjoying their time, meanwhile here I was, sat lone with an aching heart, yearning to know if the man I loved was alright. “That can’t be true!” A little girl squealed, the sound of her chuckles pouring out, but her utterance was returned with a light squeeze from the lady beside her. “Oh, believe me. It is!” Followed Makai. “They go around hunting for little ones to get aboard their ships” He pinched her cheeks, earning a low laugh from her.

The boom shakes my bones. A wind hits our backs, carrying the chill from the water, and I wrap my arms around myself. Autumn in Maine isn’t any colder than Wisconsin but there’s something about being right next to the water that ices me to the core. Brynn gasps. “I hear footsteps.” One of the heavy wooden doors yawns open, and a tall, thin woman appears. With her gray hair pulled into a tight bun and her black sweater, she looks like a librarian. She’s even frowning at us like a librarian who just caught someone eating in the periodicals section.

she says not wasting any time walking back into the farmhouse. It is a little hot. Especially since it's only May. We stopped wearing jackets in Pelican Bay, but that doesn't mean it's warm there. Anytime the snow melts off the ground and temps hit above fifty, people in Maine act like its summer, but I'm still freezing there. Huxley leads us into the house and into a large room off the living room. A table big enough to seat twelve fills the space and his sister drops off two additional plates, the ceramic clinking against the wood as she haphazardly drops each one.

“That’s exactly what your grandmother used to say at your age.” I wandered farther between the narrow shelves mostly to escape the public humiliation, while Harmony disappeared toward the romance section making loud, dramatic noises about enemies-to-lovers tropes. The bookstore glowed softly beneath the low hanging lights while the snow drifted in thick waves outside the front windows facing Main Street. I paused near the folklore section automatically, my fingers tracing the bindings. Appalachian legends, mountain myths, and local history books lined the dark wood. One specific title caught my eye immediately: The Founding Families of Black Hollow.

"There are things in Moonhaven's history that are better left in the past. But sometimes the past doesn't stay buried." She turns to leave, then pauses at the door. "There's a book you should read. In your father's collection, I believe. 'Convergent Histories of Coastal New England Towns.' Dreadfully dry title, but... illuminating content." With that cryptic recommendation, she's gone, leaving me staring after her, the bell's chime echoing in the empty shop. I've catalogued every book in this store, including my father's prized collection of local history. I've never seen that title.

He glanced around and closed the door as she backed up. The wind whipped around her, tossing her hair about. It was beautiful in Bar Harbor in the winter, a lot like New York and yet so different. Moving to Maine after college had been one of the best decisions of her life. Where she might end up having to move back because of Marc, she needed to separate herself from her family. They were toxic in more ways than one. She turned and stumbled back to the house, the snow making it hard to walk. Thank God for salting the roads.

There was enough space and tables. After dinner, I wandered alone around the pack house while Ayla went out with Jensen and Logan returned to Jackson’s office. It was so quiet. The game room was empty, there weren't warriors coming in and out, no laughter. I felt off. I stumbled into the library and browsed through some old books. The Silver Adder was similar to Lunarflare with an impressive library. “Why don’t we go for a run and have a look at the grounds.” Lasaya had been pacing around for awhile. I knew she wanted to get out but I wasn’t familiar with the territory and Jackson was still refusing to give me a map.