Novel & Cerita Books Similar To Fahrenheit 451

Fenris leaned in closely as Lillia casually shuffled through a small pile of books, long after her maidens had left for the night. The faint scent of mint and lavender lingered in the air. “We could equally continue ‘The Art of War’.” Lillia chuckled quietly, “it’s not a bad book.” “Yes, but that’s because it’s a terrible book.” Fenris released a strained sigh, getting frustrated just by mentioning it. Lillia laughed. “But it has helped us learn a lot, and even helped the investigation. I am beginning to think I should read more books like that instead of fantasies.”

Joshua let out a light laugh, making it clear that he expected a different kind of question, maybe about his business or something else, but he kindly answered my question. "Well, when I'm not working, I like to read." I smiled, feeling more at ease. "I like reading too. What's your favorite book?" "Hm, hard to choose just one. But I'd say '1984' by George Orwell is one of the ones that left the most impact on me." "No way! I love that book!" I was surprised by the connection that had arisen between us. Maybe I had judged Joshua unfairly. "Really? That's cool!" Joshua smiled, and I realized he had a very nice smile. "Who would've thought we'd have that in common, right?"

"I already have a book picked out." "That’s cheating, Ms. Collins!" he protested with a playful grin, scrambling to his feet and heading for the bookshelf. His eyes scanned the rows of novels, inevitably drawn to the familiar spine of Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451." He reached for it, but Emily's voice cut through the silence. "Not another 'Fahrenheit 451,'" she sighed as if scolding a child, "That's four times in a row, and you know I already read it thanks to your cliffhanger endings."

If he can see every move I make, how will I ever make a move against him? During my rampage of a small bookshelf on the wall next to the bed, I find classic books such as, The Catcher in the Rye, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and so on. Spotting amongst the classics a leather bound book with no title or author. I slowly open it and inside handwritten pages are revealed. May 12th 1998

Mom supported me, not because she understood, but because she loved me and wanted me to be happy. I stood up and walked around the library, feeling a little restless. They had all of the classics, and some of them looked as though they were expensive copies. Other authors that I regularly read, such as James Patterson and Dean Koontz were on the shelves. They even had some of my female favorites, such as Lisa Jackson, Lisa Gardner and Heather Graham Pozzessere. Then I wondered down to another section where I found some more provocative books. They had a lot of erotica books. One huge volume stood out: The Kama Sutra.

I feel my whole body relax like it only does when she's close. "You don't need to be embarrassed about reading dirty books. I've been doing it for years." she says and my head pops up and I stare at her to determine how serious she is. But I don't sense even hint of joking. How interesting. "Really? What kind of books do you like?" I ask and watch with fascination as an adorable blush creeps up her face. "Um... mostly small town romance. Single dad, friends to lovers, next door neighbors, things like that." she says a little shyly making me chuckle.

Morning light filtered through tall windows, catching dust motes that danced like tiny stars in the beams. I found peace among the shelves. Books didn't whisper about prophecy or danger. They didn't look at me like I might explode. They just sat, silent and waiting, ready to offer answers to those patient enough to seek them. Unlike humans. Unlike wolves. Unlike Kael.

I like taking my time, that way, I can get used to the idea of living with Xander. Sitting behind the counter in the bookstore, I listen to Vincent talking to his cars while I place an order for new books. One of those books is The Art of War by Sun Tsu. I want to read it and see why Alexei loves it so much. My thoughts turn to the BBQ, and I must admit, I enjoyed it a lot. And Rosemarie was right. Everyone seemed pretty normal. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe guns and men smoking cigars while plotting the end of the world?

Wow. I was drooling. It wasn't just a room with books. It was a sanctuary. Floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with hardcovers, a rolling ladder, a massive fireplace that looked like it hadn't been used in decades. The scent of old paper and leather hit me, comforting and familiar. I ran my finger along the spines. ‘The Art of War’, ‘Sun Tzu’. ‘Histories of the Roman Empire’. Biographies of kings and conquerors. Heavy stuff. Interspersed with them were fiction classics. Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Dumas.

Maybe that is the reason why I have no problem in communicating even if I don’t talk to people much. ‘This Time I Will Not Love You' This novel sounds so hurting. I think I won’t be interested in this since I have no love life or whatsoever. ‘To The World I Wish…’ ‘Reckoning Love…’ ‘Mystery Caller' ‘Untold Secrets…’ ‘Unfolding Secrets…’ JUST WHY THE HELL DOES IT SOUNDS SO SPOOKY?!?!? “Alright let’s look for other books to read...” I tried to calm myself just to not let me feel the spookiness in the titles of the books I saw. A very interesting book caught my attention. Unlike the others, it was… handwritten.