Books With Unusual Narrators Novels & Stories

That’s when I noticed it. Among the rows of oddly colored books, there was one that didn’t quite fit. While the others looked more like props—too uniform, too unnatural—this one stood out. It looked real. A Daughter’s Revenge by Alona Jane B. Cruz. I squinted at it for a moment, hesitating before reaching out. Slowly, I pulled it from the shelf, feeling the weight of it in my hands, then noticed the uneven gap it left behind. My breath hitched slightly as I placed it into the indented space in the middle of the shelf.

His books were mostly nonfiction and finance books. As Sierra heard the water in the shower, it was a signal for her that Alek was already inside and waiting for her. Every inch of her skin was filled with excitement. The butterflies on her stomach couldn't stay still. But as she was ready to take off her clothes, there was something that caught her attention. In his sea of books, there was something different. It has a fantasy-like cover. The vintage appearance made it blend in among the rest. Yet, the vines on the corner were unusual. There was no discoloration on the edges though it seemed old. Something new pretending to be old.

She wasn't sure how much time she'd have to leisurely read but would take her chance when it came. The second floor to the library was full of rows upon rows of books and a few glass study rooms that weren't occupied. She walked down the rows one by one, her fingertips skimming the paranormal books that she'd grown accustomed to over the years. She snagged one from the third shelf up and flipped through the pages, wondering how an author came up with such a vivid story that had no real hold. She didn't believe in ghosts, goblins, or monsters. Even the sexy vampires and werewolves the girls fawned over in their spare time. Though they sounded magical, in real life, it seemed so ludicrous to t

I could feel him open up to me upon hearing my confession. “Believe me…” I murmured. “I know better than anyone how you must feel.” He gazed at me. “It’s no way to live, isn’t it?” I huffed a short, awkward laugh in response, focusing my full attention back on stacking the books. This time, the titles caught my attention, ranging from the history of our kingdom to the customs, cultures, and histories of our neighbors: the Vixens and the Bear-Shifters. And then there was one book in particular about something that I had never heard of before… nothing like anything Father ever discussed or that I’d read of in fairytales.

In the end, the inquisitive one won but first, I listened for footsteps and when I could make out none, I got off the bed and went for the book, flicking its first page open. The only person who could give me a book was Zena but it was also weird, what kind of book it was. It wasn’t the usual one we both read and enjoyed. It was some sort of self-help book and its title was even more weird. “Kicking trauma’s butt with style!”

Arpit and I are fond of novels, while he loves to read horror, I am a mystery-thriller fan. I was unwrapping the parcel when Aunty called him and he went to her, telling me to keep his books in his room. The books were 5 while I remembered ordering only 4. I thought to check why I have received an extra book. Horrified by the revelation, the book was The Red Journal. I thought I was hallucinating. I picked up the red book and stood in front of the mirror. It was not my hallucination, it was real, just like me.

"Maybe Orna used some kind of magic to make you forget." "Maybe. But I remember the story now. I remember Orna telling me that new things start from destruction. She was obsessed with that book. It had a dark brown leather cover that looked like it was a dragon's skin. It was different than the normal books. She always carried it with her and sometimes she read it to me. Only to me," I said as I remembered the nights she read stories to me. I was besotted with Orna. She was my cool aunt. I loved her and I was sure she loved me. Maybe she never did. "I was small. I was around seven or eight. The same age as Lili when she started reading the book to me. It was interesting. She would tell the s

It has never been my goal to impress my sister with anything I do. I scroll through the books in the library until I come to my favourite section, Mystery. I always love the thrill that comes with not knowing what's going to happen next. You can make it more interesting for yourself if you start to wonder what is happening and what will happen. I take a few glances through the books on the shelves and take a book that looks the most interesting out of all the books I saw. 'In the Woods' by Tana French.

He handed the books he had chosen to the young worker and stuffed his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. "'The SAS Survival Handbook?' and '2020 Standard Catalog of Firearms'?..." The worker raised her brows at the young man in front of her, the corner of her lips twitching unconsciously, as she used this opportunity to look at his handsome face. "Your taste is still as random as always." This guy would either wander around the bookstore just looking around, or buy the most random craziest books ever. She remembers the first time she saw him buying books here, the titles of those being "Demons: The Devil, Possession & Exorcism" and "Poisonous Plants". The poor girl wasn't sure if this guy wa

He wasn't there and the desk was empty, yet something in me lurched at the sight. ‘What was wrong with me?' I swallowed, looking away to center my thoughts. The books. Right. Plopping onto the soft surface, I looked properly at the books I acquired, ready to clear my mind. I let myself get drowned in the mass of words that came meaninglessly. The first book I read was some kind of fantasy romance adventure. One which entailed a woman who had to run away from her home and found herself another family in the form of two siblings and another pack. It was strange to say the least, but it kept my mind momentarily distracted.