Books With Uncle Remus Novels & Stories

As we stepped in, he gave a small nod to the first store’s attendant we met before hurrying off to a quiet section of the store. While Uncle Al ran his long hands along the books on the shelf, soft hurried footsteps caught my attention. A girl of about five years old with pigtails peered at a man who had a book propped on his face. As soon as my uncle stopped pacing, the quiet air of the room felt different. I felt like I won and lost a trophy at the same time as wailing laughter reached my ears. “Do you feel that?” “That,” Uncle Al tapped on a seemingly ordinary leather book about cooking and grinned, “is our ticket. Place your hand on the book.”

I crawled out from beneath the table, placed the pawn in the same position it’d been in before I knocked it over, and pocketed both the paper clip and my gloves, which were sleek enough that they didn’t create a visible bulge in my pants. I plucked The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas—one of my favorite books—off the shelf on my way to the door. “Alex,” my uncle said when he saw me in the hall. He chuckled. “Dumas again? You can’t get enough of that book.” I smiled. “No, I can’t.” All the while, my blood raged.

Not that I was expecting anyone to be there seeing that it was late but at times, one can't be too sure especially on some things. ''Now, let's see what Remus and his pack reads.'' I murmured, walking towards a shelf of old books. I picked one up and immediately, the title caught my attention. It was about old magic of kings, queens and demons and somehow, I had a feeling that I ought to read that book. I didn't know what drew me in but soon, I found myself reading the book.

She was wide-eyed when she found the answer. "Uncle Louis said that's the book that Aunt Emily likes the most. I'm curious about the story. I want to read it after finishing the other two books. They're about adventure," Summer explained with sparkling eyes. Sky nodded, agreeing. "Okay. But, did you know? There are lots of children's books about animals over there. I used to read them every time I visited here," she pointed her finger at a shelf. "Really? I didn't see them earlier."

"That's a different kind of story. About different kinds of ladies. From a long time ago." "Can we read it?" R asked, bringing the book over. "I want to know about ladies. Uncle Phoenix says they're complicated." "Uncle Phoenix should stop discussing topics that will get him in trouble," Rhys said pointedly. "Uncle Phoenix should stop assuming five-year-olds are actually asleep when they say they are," Phoenix muttered.

She told herself the faint tingle was her imagination, just as the hot dreams she’d been having the past few nights had been nothing more than memories of her girlish rescue fantasies with the temperature turned up by her adult experiences. She traced the raised lettering. A version of Red Riding Hood with the wolf as both sinner and seducer and the woodsman as the hero who saves the girl and takes her away from her old life to a new, better one. Seeing the book, touching it made her mother feel closer than she had in years. Even if it turned out to be just a copy, it was worth whatever she had paid.

It was a toddler book, and I wondered why she called this book as evidence. "Please open it, uncle." I opened it, and I frowned, at the same time smiling when I saw a rabbit drawn on top of the letter. I close the book and look at the cover. I noticed that the book is from Uncle Phil, and he is giving it to Ara. "This is the evidence you are saying?" She nodded her head. I opened it again and scanned all the pages only to see all the rabbits drawing inside it. "I don't get how this book becomes evidence?" I asked.

"Carmen, what took you so long? I heard a couple fighting about touching the wrong person. Was that you? Were you two having that much fun in there?" My face burned as I walked faster. "Let's just head back. If we stay out any later, Uncle Grant will start looking for us." When we opened the door, Uncle Grant's face was stormy. The smell of braised beef with red wine filled the air. He had cooked dinner and prepared my favorite dish. But the moment he saw what I was wearing, he frowned. "What are you dressed in?" I hurried to explain that I had gotten my clothes dirty and had to borrow something from a classmate in the dance room. He only half believed me, but he let it go.

The bookshelf was just as tall as Andrew so he could easily access the books there. The bookshelf had all sorts of books, ranging from fictional novels to nonfictional novels, to educational novels and textbooks. Her eyes caught titles like; The Redwall series by Brian Jacques, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros and a lot more. Even the Encyclopedia was in his bookshelf. And there was also some novels on the basis of business and finance. The book the lad was currently reading was The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

“Quiet doesn’t mean unbothered. Just good at hiding it.” We fell into silence. The only sound was distant thunder rumbling above ground. I wondered how long we’d be down here. Minutes stretched. My mind wandered to how close he was. How alone we were. “Tell me something,” I said finally. “Why’d you become a librarian? You don’t seem like the type who likes being stuck behind a desk all day.” Mr. Kane exhaled softly. “Books don’t talk back. They don’t expect small talk. I like the order. And the stories. What about you? History major with a focus on obscure trade? That’s not common.”