Novel & Cerita Books Similar To Diary Of An Oxygen Thief

Maybe I would learn who these people were, and why they had written so much during their life. I was readying myself to leave when something caught my eye. It was insignificant, just an oddity that I couldn't help but notice. Out of the hundreds of journals that were thrown across the floor, one was thicker than the others. Most wouldn't have paid it any mind, but that would've irritated me considering all of the other books are the exact same size as one another. As I picked it up and opened it, the inside of the book was hollow. Like in one of those old detective television shows that played at 3am, there was a cut out large enough to fit a ruby amulet, the replica to the one I had stashed

“Oh, you guys are not going to believe this. Our little spy is a massive freak.” I adjusted my posture, holding the diary up to the ambient light of the limo. “‘If he pushed me against the bookshelves, I wouldn’t even fight back,’” I read, my voice dripping with dark amusement. “‘I want him to take control. I want him to rip this stupid sweater off me. I can practically feel his hands gripping my thighs, bruising my skin, pushing his huge dick inside my tight and wet aching pussy while he whispers my name…’”

I'll call you when we're done. Other students began to fill the auditorium, making the place although slowly, noisier and hotter in temperature. A fat student that had the shape of an hard-boiled egg sat in the seat next to him minutes before they commenced. Behind his sat a girl with eyeglasses so thick he suspected they were bulletproof. She had an awfully small nose that reminded him of rats. In the seat before him was another girl that looked so thin it reminded him of someone with a terminal disease.

I closed my eyes, trembling as tears escaped and fell into the food. "Happy birthday, Eleanor Shaw," I whispered to myself. "Keep moving forward—onward forever. Even if no one loves you, there's still light at the end of the tunnel. As Jeffrey said, you have enjoyed over 20 wonderful years of wealth and privilege. You've had it good." Just like that, I repeated words of comfort to myself as I wiped away my tears. I moved all my belongings that I had sorted out over the past two weeks in the living room.

Right here on this lovely platform. I will admit, this one is not as, how to put it? Sweet as Diaries of a Hybrid and Her Mate. Be warned, this story is far darker. Updates will resume shortly.

Hence, she put it back in its spot among other dusty books and walked to another shelf. She came across a couple of other books but she knew none of them will give her any information on what she sought after; ‘Moon Goddess' Mate’ by U. Tipper, ‘The Hybrid's special Guide’ by L. O. Klark, ‘Tribid Greed’ by Steve Reynolds, and a lot of other books.

I recognize the slightly worn edge on the cover, the way the third page has a tiny tear at the bottom. I stare at it, my brain trying to connect dots that don’t want to be connected. How did this get here? Did Deckard give it to Owen when he was handling my affairs? I shake the thought out of my head. The Newtons are like a bad infection; if I think about them too much, I’ll start seeing symptoms everywhere. I shove the Braille book back onto the shelf, deciding that I’ve had enough memory lane for one morning. I finally settle on a thick, mass-market paperback with a suspiciously shirtless man on the cover...don't judge me, it’s raining...and nestle into the oversized plush armchair by the

I said to him and he sighed. "I know it sounds crazy but I can't shake all this off Liam, I just can't. I feel like I'm slowly losing my sanity and it feels like someone's trying to slowly drive me mad with misery. I'm under investigation for an attempted murder when I can't even hurt a darn fly. I lost my job, my reputation that I may never get back and now I've lost my cafe and another murder case is about to surround me cause they will investigation and since I already have a pending case, they'll add me to the list of possible suspects. Tell me now Liam, am I really not cursed?" I asked, heaving a sigh of frustration as it dawned on me that I am indeed a misfortune like mom always told m

And I treat many people to coffee and tea for free - no need to worry about this. The coffee machine rattled noisily, grinding beans. —Where is your section with horror literature? Thrillers? “Everywhere,” Yuna looked around at all the shelves in her field of vision. — We have a shop with a narrow specialization, there is practically no popular literature, especially sentimental prose, women’s fantasy and ironic detective stories. But there is a variety of alternatives, horror, mysticism, thrillers, dystopias. In general, we buy everything that other stores take for testing sales. With second-hand books, things are similar.

I look at her from the corner of my eyes, her lifeless form singing away. Is that what losing a soulmate does to someone? Something heavy settles in the pit of my stomach. A current goes through my hand. I jump, back away from the bookshelf, where my fingers were skimming overbooks. “If the bird won’t sing, Mama will buy you a ring~” I reach out to touch the books again. Was that just my imagination— Another current goes through me. Not painful, but rather, a dull vibration. I pull the book out, a small, worn diary. It’s bound with leather, and the pages have yellowed with time. It’s feel like a living thing in my hands, warm and alive.