Bookshots By James Patterson Novels & Stories

The bookstore is quiet and my hands keep fidgeting straightening stacks that don’t need straightening, sliding books into place that were already perfectly lined up, running my thumb along spines like they might suddenly whisper answers to me and every time the bell over the door rings my heart jumps like I’m waiting for a verdict. I’m ridiculous thirty-four years old, been shot, survived chaos, lived through family drama, watched my best friend get kidnapped, seen the worst of people and I’m shaking like a kid with a crush because I want to ask a man to dinner. James has been in town for almost 4 week now. He comes by the shop every other day under the excuse of “checking on Jess” or “just

Several Weeks Later Jasper slowly eased his body onto its side. Mimicking sleep, he intently listened to the conversation between a young woman named, Cora, and the old nurse he’d heard called both Bess and Smithfield. He’d assumed that her true name was Elizabeth Smithfield with Bess being the nick name for Elizabeth, but names were funny things. He’d noticed the increasing pattern of nick names or abbreviated names being given to children at birth by parents wanting to be different. Therefore, he could have been incorrect on that assumption.

Beside it, a small plate of chips she’d been absentmindedly picking at. And her book. Dan Brown’s thick spine rested open in her hands. She was seventy three percent in yes, and she felt smug about it. Reading was the only thing lately that didn’t demand anything from her. A rush of cold air brushed past her ankle. She didn’t look up. The bell above the door chimed again. “Hey, stranger.” Her heart misfired before her brain caught up. She looked up and it was James, the handsome English guy from the bookstore.

I said to him and he sighed. "I know it sounds crazy but I can't shake all this off Liam, I just can't. I feel like I'm slowly losing my sanity and it feels like someone's trying to slowly drive me mad with misery. I'm under investigation for an attempted murder when I can't even hurt a darn fly. I lost my job, my reputation that I may never get back and now I've lost my cafe and another murder case is about to surround me cause they will investigation and since I already have a pending case, they'll add me to the list of possible suspects. Tell me now Liam, am I really not cursed?" I asked, heaving a sigh of frustration as it dawned on me that I am indeed a misfortune like mom always told m

By now, the soothing holiday tunes on the speaker were nearly drowned out by all the chatter in the building. “I guess it wouldn't hurt,” I muttered to Patrick. We worked well together, handing each other paper or tape when we needed it. And the line of six people grew exponentially before it dwindled back down. When I sent off the last customer with a plaid wrapped box with a pinecone and cinnamon stick attached, I nearly collapsed into Patrick with relief. He patted me on the back. “Wow. That was a rush,” he said. “Who knew this little bookstore had this kind of traffic?”

He looked ready to burst at the seams with excitement. Let’s hope he looks better than this when he sees me naked. There are a few people reading in pod like corners, and a few others checking out the comics on the shelves. “There are quite a number of people here, and it’s so early.” I say as we weave through the endless rows of shelves. He stops at each shelf to pick up a book, each one thicker than the last. “Yeah, there is a new series coming in by noon today. These are the early birds.”

It read: “Please buy a thank you card and a bouquet of red roses, don’t order, go choose them yourself.” Is his boss serious, taking a peek at him, he picked up the debit card and the note and hurriedly went out. Before he reached the door though, Matan yelled “Make sure to be back by 11, I do not want to be late!” Joey ran out quickly as it is quarter to 10. Thankfully, there is a card shop and flower shop next to their building. The guy in the flower shop grinned at him, “something for your lady love boy-o?”

They conducted the expedition together—her boat at the back, carrying imaginary snacks and extra socks, his boats and Gerald and Patterson advancing toward the far end with the gravity of something genuinely significant—and the bathroom was warm and steamed and the city was outside doing its indifferent Tuesday things, and for twenty minutes the most important place in the world was a bathtub on the fourteenth floor where a woman and her son moved small plastic objects through warm water toward a destination four feet away that was, for all the purposes that mattered, very far indeed. ✦•✦•✦ After. Eli in pajamas. The rocket ones, freshly washed. Hair toweled and re-ambitious. Patterson on th

Eventually Lily got used to sitting in front of the rows of books in James' study. Observing every line that was there. Picking up the ones she liked and getting lost in them. While killing time because at the other end, James still seemed to be working full of concentration. This time his choice falls on the autobiography of a former president who was in power for quite some time.

Don't just skip this book again; add to library. Enjoy! Your loving author; Natasha Gwen