Books Similar To Graceling Novels & Stories

My fingers brush over cracked spines until they stop on one bound in faded blue leather. When I pull it out, dust swirls in the air, making me sneeze. "The Lost Packs of the Northern Realms," I read aloud. The cover bears a strange symbol – a crescent moon wrapped around a flowering vine. "Careful with that one, dearie." The voice makes us both jump. An elderly woman with silver-streaked hair pulled into a severe bun peers at us from behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Those histories are delicate. And dangerous, some might say."

Again, thank you so much, and have a wonderful new year! More Books by me: Under the Moon Series: Book1 - Under the Pale Moon (vampire LGBT+) Book2 - Under the Blue Moon (werewolf LGBT+) Book 3 - Under the Crimson Moon (dragon-shifter LGBT+) Wed to the Alpha (fluffy romance/fantasy/werewolf) I am Not Your Love Story (CEO/richman LGBT+) Adventures of the Crown Series: Book1 - The Purple Wolf and the Enerawyn (fantasy/adventure, hints of LGBT+)

In the far corner is a sink and a crude-looking toilet. Hooks line one of the walls, all empty. The air smells like rust and dust. But then, something catches my eye. A shelf near the back, almost hidden in shadow. Not plastic packages this time. Books. Old ones. Their spines are worn, leather cracked. Some have gold filigree. Others are thick and bound in cloth. I move closer, squinting to read the faded titles. “Lineage of Power.” “The Lost Coronation.” “Treaties of the First Blood.”

Those three chests had been enough to make Maurice look good. Now, however, there were far more than three chests. Maurice was already greedily eyeing the chests as if they were his. Meanwhile, Camilla's eyes gleamed as she ran to the chests and opened one at random. The items inside sparkled under the sun—they were all precious treasures. She couldn't help but take a huge pearl and balance it on her palm. "This is gorgeous, Mo. Can you give it to me?" "Of course. I'll give you whatever you want, Cami," Maurice said.

That made her a target. I stood and moved deeper into the shelves, running my fingers along the cracked spines. A book of lunar runes, its leather cover marked with silver filigree, caught my attention. Inside, sketches of crescent moons and unfamiliar sigils danced across the pages. Some had annotations in an old dialect, one my family rarely used. I whispered the translations under my breath: light woven into flesh, a daughter of tides, sought by shadow and flame. Each phrase was a riddle that offered no clear truth.

"She didn't think anyone was in here." I lick my lips, feeling oddly drawn to the book. "What is it?" "Something really rare," Alice says. "There are only a few like it in the world. It's called, 'The Secret History of Magic.' It tells the real story of magic. It helps you to understand that there are many ways to look at everything." "Okay," I say. It's starting to feel like I'm stuck in Alice's fantasy. Next thing I know she'll be telling me she knows how to fly.

Although lycans do have golden eyes, but theirs looked more yellow than gold, these ones looked like they were touched my the sun themselves and seemed to glow, its fur seemed to be just as white as snow as well as the other image of the mysterious man, his eyes too tell a different story that wasn't told. I couldn't stop pacing, I wanted to find answers but this only raised more questions—why would a thousand year old story have a wolf so similar to the one I saw? I didn't know how long Cordelia’s story was, I didn't even know if her story was true and this wasn't a fantasy book, I didn't know anything. I grabbed the book from my bed and turned it around to find the name of the author but t

It was nothing like my Lyra. My head swam as Xio stirred. He was demanding, needing. My eyes scanned the crowd of witches, searching, until I saw her. She was standing at the back of the group, nearly hidden by a taller witch. She was small and delicate, with long, dark hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Her eyes where the color of Zircon. They immediately locked with mine, and a look of utter shock flashed across her face before she quickly looked away.

"Every myth is real darling. And here in Brookedale, we have everything supernatural. From centaurs to demons, to fairies and dryads. And flagaes are magical demon beings living in a kind of special glass." Mollie said. "So, Vampires, werewolves, sorcerers and witches are normal around here?" "Not really. We all keep our identities a secret. Only a supernatural knows another supernatural. We wouldn't want to scare the humans." I said.

The ceiling above shimmered with faint enchantments—twinkling stars embedded in glass and crystal that pulsed like a living night sky. She trailed her fingers along the spines, marveling at the titles: The Lost Histories of Astira, The Blood of Forgotten Queens, Mystic Bonds and Magical Lineage, The Vaelthorne Chronicles… That last one gave her pause. She pulled it free and settled into the nearest high-backed chair, curling into its velvet seat like she belonged there. For hours, Seraphine read. Some books were stories, others records of laws, others theories of old magic—names and places she had only heard whispered by old women in markets. And others still… felt oddly familiar, like piece