Books That Make You Think. Novels & Stories

The library felt like a gift, and that was what made it dangerous. I moved slowly along the shelves, trailing my fingers across the spines of books. The contact sent a faint shiver through me, not pleasure exactly, but recognition. Something inside me loosened, not relief and not comfort, but a thin strand of control I had not realized was missing. The titles were familiar in tone if not in detail. Business. Finance. Strategy. Leadership. Negotiation. The kinds of books men like Jaden collected to justify their decisions after the fact, volumes that framed dominance as intelligence and conquest as foresight.

It is Divergent, insurgent, and Allegiant first edition series, the notebook, The fault in our stars, and Shakespeare books. "I didn't know what kind of books you like, so I just picked the ones I think you might love"a voice startled me, and I placed my hand over my chest. "You scared me, " "Sorry," there is a dark grey wardrobe just behind the door. And a matt on the floor, a white round table at the corner. "It's fine really, I think I will read them. It's been a while since I have read an addictive book, maybe I will find one in these books. Who knows"I shrug, and sit on the bed.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. The Very Thought of You (The Thorntons Book 2) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2017 by Iris Morland Cover design by Resplendent Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of b

It turns to other pages again which seems like it's answering my thoughts and it's terrifying. "It's because I can read you. "

There were also immortal books made of multi-colored ancient jades, golden books covered with dazzling, lustrous golden lights, and even strange books enveloped by lightning. Alex was dumbfounded just by looking at them. He looked at the crowd around him and realized that no one looked in that direction. Even if he reminded them by making vague references, they failed to sense anything. Pigsy even came over and passed through the bookshelf, yet it found nothing. Sensing no anomaly, it was as if the bookshelves containing the bizarre books were utterly nonexistent. “Do you find this table a little odd?” Alex deliberately said after he walked to the table and knocked it.

The library was quiet, the afternoon sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. Anna sat alone at the far corner, the mysterious book, The Reflection Game, spread open before her. Her finger traced the intricate designs on the yellowed pages, her heart pounding with both excitement and unease. The cryptic instructions whispered to her, their meaning elusive but tantalizingly close. She didn’t understand why she felt so drawn to the book, but she couldn’t let it go. It was as if the book had chosen her, as if it were calling her to uncover its secrets.

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

I have to make friends. Clive chuckled. “That's exactly what I assumed." I tried not to run, but hurried to the shelves. Clive had it all. And, oh, little brass tags screwed into wooden shelves gave an overview of the topic titles. The first bookcase I approached contained books on world religions, then mythology and folk tales. Some of the books were old and cracked, others were new and crispy. I felt dizzy as my fingers touched the roots. I could hear the low whisper of voices from the other side of the room, but I didn't care. All sorts of books surrounded me. The sheer volume of thought and imagination contained in this room deserved respect.

I open the box, and pull out the first book, and I frown even harder because it is titled - Your Dad Will Do, by a Katee Robert. Feeling realy confused, I pull out the second - Priest, by a Sierra Simone, these books are giving me a certain vibe. I pull out another, laughing at the incredulous title - Does It Hurt, by an H.D Carlton, feeling really curious, I open a random page, and frown as I try to make sense of the scene. I gasp as I begin to make sense of it, my mouth falls open at the full realization of what it actually is, the book falls out of my hand with a resounding thud.

This note could be an invitation to adventure or a summons for something far more sinister. The note burns a hole in my pocket, its cryptic message replaying in my mind. Part of me wants to dismiss it as a prank, yet my curiosity wins out. So, I make my way through the maze of shelves, running my fingers along the spines of countless books as I pass. Each step takes me deeper into this labyrinth of knowledge, now transformed into something sinister and surreal.