Books Similar To The Housemaid Novels & Stories

The force of gravity in the room seemed to suddenly increase, threatening to drag her to the floor. Get over it. You knew damn well this was going to happen. Just . . . move on. She looked over her shoulder to finally take in the rest of the space. Her father’s bed lay inside one of the corners, the mattress a size too small for a man of his height and covered with the same camo blanket that rested on her own. A large bookcase lined one wall, its contents a hodgepodge of classic and paranoid—“Survivalist,” Emma corrected herself—literature. She scanned the titles. Finding Tom Sawyer and The Anarchist’s Cookbook resting beside each other conjured demented scenes of the scamp lobbing improvise

"But look at her. She's filthy and tanned-skinned. She's nothing compared to Lady Campbell." "Truly. The maids in my household are all better looking than she is." "Now that you mention it, she actually reminds me a bit of the kitchen maids at home." "Just look at her hands. They're so rough! You can tell she does hard labor. Absolutely dreadful."

As I perused the books, I could feel Aidan’s gaze on me. The shop, much like the one downstairs, boasted an impressive selection. These were books to be enjoyed in the coffee lounge, not purchased or taken home. A smile tugged at my lips as I reached the romance novel section. So, Well Thumbed had these too. I wondered if they had hidden gems, perhaps something I hadn’t read or that Uncle Alex’s book club, Bound To Please, hadn’t discovered yet.

“You must be tired from the journey. Rest well tonight. You’ll start tomorrow morning.” She turned to leave, but Tessy’s unease bubbled over. “Wait!” she called. “Is this… is this how the other maids’ rooms are? Like this?” Her words stumbled out, awkward and desperate. Lilly blinked, confusion crossing her face. She glanced around the lavish room, then back at Tessy. “Honestly? I’m just as confused as you are. But you must be… special.” “What?” Tessy asked sharply. “The maids’ quarters are downstairs. They’re nothing like this. Only Margaret stays upstairs. But since you’re here as the assistant head maid, you’re next in line. This is your place.”

"Mama always keeps a spare under the mat." He found it, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. The apartment was small but clean, warmly decorated, filled with the kind of personal touches that spoke of a real home. Family photos on the walls. Books on shelves. The faint scent of home-cooked food lingering in the air. So different from his mansion with its perfect, sterile elegance. "Bedroom?" he asked quietly. "Down the hall. First door." He found it....a tiny room barely big enough for the twin bed and small dresser. But it was hers. Her clothes draped over a chair. Her laptop on the desk. Her life in this small, humble space.

A young maiden carried seven, very thick binds of books that seemed to be really heavy. Thus, she plopped them down over a nearby desk along with a sigh of exhaustion. The other girls were the same, yet their books were either as light as pocket stories or random history books that they found out of haste. When it came to Crystal’s turn, the maid’s eyes inspected the binds of books which was carried by Crystal in an elegant manner. A small smile was evident but not too obvious before her eyes gazed over at the other females. ‘I was right.’ Crystal thought to herself with glee.

She had nothing to do at home and she was sure Lyla wouldn't talk to her throughout the entire day and as for her mother, she would prefer to stay far away from her until her father finally returns. She let out a sigh, stood up, walked towards her door and locked it. She squatted down, stretching her hand underneath her bed to reach the book she had carefully hidden there. After much struggle she was able to reach the book. Her lips curved into a sly smile, holding the book so preciously in her hand. She laid on her bed, admiring the book. She had bought this book back then to know more about what happens between a man and a woman during their wedding night. Surprisingly, it wasn't only a bo

She walked into the living room, she saw the maid cleaning, the maid stood straight immediately she saw her. "Do you need anything Miss?" The maid asked carefully. "No I want to look around, continue with your work" Flow said and walked out of the living room. The house was pretty and looked beautiful, but it was nothing compared to her house. She looked around, the house looked dull and simple and small. She was able to see the house whole just by looking at it. She felt bored just looking at the house, she turned and walked towards the gate. A man suddenly stood in front of her.

Three days before Sheldon was supposed to leave the country, he mortgaged our house. He even helped us pack, moving me and the boys into a tiny one-room basement unit on the third floor down. It was barely 300 square feet and was damp, musty, and dark. Sheldon stood in the middle of that little room, talking to our sons as if he was giving some grand speech.

Instead they were a little better. ‘Were new maids treated like this?’ Mary thought to herself. None of the maids answered her instead, they both stood away from her as if she was a pest and they were told not to be in contact with her. Mary changed her clothes and wore the ones that were provided to her. As soon as Mary finished changing, she was then again greeted by Housekeeper Bernard who was standing just outside the maid's room and he stretched his hands away from the room asking Mary to follow him.