Books Similar Beautiful Disaster Novels & Stories

He shook her from his mind and pushed open the doors to the study. The rug-lined room was bigger than B’s above-garage apartment. Floor to ceiling bookshelves dampened any noise B might made in his whiskey search. There didn’t seem to be a single inch of space on any one of the shelves. Books of all colors, textures, and sizes were packed together. In front of the book spines sat hundreds of little treasures–seashells, pocket watches, glass figurines, and carvings of creatures. So many creatures. B let his fingers drift over the book spines: The Picture of Dorian Gray. The Catcher in the Rye. The Odyssey. Brave New World. The Call of the Wild. White Noise. So many stories he’d never read and

Fuck I miss them too, I hope they don't hate me. "Well I'm back to work now. I'm actually in Paris, first time that I've been back since we were here together, and my god the whole fucking town reminds me of you. I even went to that little bookstore that I took you to, trying to find a little piece of you to keep with me. I found a book that reminded me of you. It's called 'Finding the joy in the smallest things'. That's what you do, you're grateful for the little things in life, you made me grateful for the small things. I found joy in your laugh, your smile, your presence, even finding this stupid little book. But now that I've started reading it I've realised it's one of those self help b

Too late Damon pov The room was in a mess “Mess” was an understatement to the amount of destruction that was before me. It was more like a hurricane had passed through here. The furniture was smashed into pieces, The shelves that contained large collections of healing manuals and tables were smashed beyond recognition, and the books lit on fire. I crept forward, every muscle tense, and ready to fight. The room was a little dark, but it was nothing my wolf vision couldn't handle.

He took a slow breath and let it out. "She was good," he said. "I mean actually good. Not the performance of it but she was." He paused. "I met her when I was twenty-five and she worked in a bookstore on the west side. It was a small place and she reorganized the whole crime fiction section so that all the mob books were spine out." He stopped and almost smiled. "Said she was tired of glorifying men who hurt people." Bella laughed softly. "I like her already."

The moment you marry that cripple, Nina will find her way back! "I'm telling you–even outside, her life won't be any worse than yours here!" She thought that would shake me. I turned back and gave her a faint smile. "Is that so? I was just about to tell you–your good days are over. Hers too."

and he kissed. The world is full of surprises, and love is one of them. THE END AUTHORS NOTE: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING BLISSFUL HELL, EVERYONE!

Dion must have posted guards everywhere, even more, she didn't have a way to call for help, or crack the security password of the entrance. Another headache rose to her mind. Still, she mustered all of her energy in her legs to walk to the shower, at least she will wash away the sweat and the feeling of his mouth and tongue. Somehow, she still felt his fingers navigating her skin and she didn't know why, but she didn't hate the feeling. His eyes at that time... they were focused on her and his desire was evident. "I should stop thinking of it." For many minutes, she tried to focus on other things, but she couldn't. Every time her thoughts came to what they had experienced together the day be

He smiled when he noticed her, without wasting any time we both approached her. goodness this woman is gorgeous. She reminds me of Theo Lamoreaux, The French Don. That's when Shira Lamoreaux, the eldest daughter of Mr. Lamoreaux, they look so alike, she's got his feisty eyes similar to tigers. It held power and I liked that.

Though I'm confuse, I casually said, “This wondrous of a place usually empty. People forgot to pay a visit or to even got themselves immerse to the world that this wondrous of a place offer them with sincerity. I thought you are highly affected by such a failure of showing gratitude to literature coming from them?” His eyes couldn't actually intimidating but there's a melancholy that I didn't expected to seen. My statement just now goes awakwardly, and I chuckled as that to forgot my place on this unknown and strange of a place. I cough and turn my head to the shelf that offer a variety of book that looks bloody yet comforting. “Oh,” I gasped, not able to hide my awed. “That's a classic...”

before entering another room filled with machines. “What is this?” Eva asked giving the book to Everest. “This was brought to the library just recently, it’s called ‘The birth of disaster’.”