Booktok Box Novels & Stories

"The last pitch is from the Uranus booth! Dole one! Dole two! Dole three! Sold!" ************* Note: Don't forget to like, comment, and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform

Claimed by him. Inspired, Kiana put the book aside and rummaged around some more in the box. At the very bottom her fingers brushed by something firm and long – just what she was looking for. She pulled out her hidden toy, a rabbit vibrator, squeezing the firm yet yielding gel shaft into her palm and stroking the cl*t stimulator in slow deliberate circles.

Claimed by him. Inspired, Tara put the book aside and rummaged around some more in the box. At the very bottom her fingers brushed by something firm and long-just what she was looking for. She pulled out her hidden toy, a rabbit vibrator, squeezing the firm yet yielding gel shaft into her palm and stroking the clit stimulator in slow deliberate circles.

Instantly, I realized I was going through Celeste’s childhood memory. I decided to close it back, but just when I was about to, something peculiar caught my eye. Every other thing in the box seemed old and worn out, but this Book, or whatever it was with the shape of a book, looked new. Like it has been placed there only recently. I wouldn’t have gone through it, but it felt so wrong to close the box without taking a look at it. It spoke to me, it breathed, it looked alive. Slowly, I reached in and pulled it out from the very end of the box.

That night, as Alessia lay in Luca's arms, her body finally surrendering to sleep, the replica box rested on the nightstand. Its edges glowed faintly under the moonlight, a shimmer invisible to the ordinary eye. The box trembled. Slowly, without touch, the lid creaked open. Inside, where nothing should have been… lay a single torn page of the Black Book. Its ink pulsed like living blood. And in a voice only Alessia could hear, even in her dreams, it whispered: "The wrong box was always the right one"......

Is that how much he loves reading? Hesitantly, I walked to the reading table and picked up one of the books. Surprisingly, the books were all about healing or trying to find a way to heal something. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was about. My curiosity made my eyes lead me straight to a big black box. It wasn’t locked, but it had a key on it. I tried to fight it, but I found myself wanting to know what was in the box, and the small dark room at the other end.

The shade sticker read Crimson Vow, and someone had tied a narrow rose-gold ribbon around it with suspicious care. I stared at it. Then translucent comments slid across my vision, like live reactions on a serialized romance app. [@BookTokAfterDark: Oh, she has no idea what that lipstick does.] [@SteamQueen: I can smell the spice from here. I am seated.] [@KindleKiller: He really put his weak spot in a velvet box. Sir.] [@RomanceGremlin: Buckle up. This is about to get messy in the best way.] I almost dropped the box.

He never saw the boxes and boxes of books and merchandise. The bookmarks, stickers, postcards, and the boxes of books for her book signing needed her signature. Then there were the giveaway packages Beckett and Julie packed with the help this time of Ms. Higgins. These went out to almost fifty readers and Julie didn’t want anyone thinking they’d received a raw deal, so she researched packaging and ways to pack the boxes decoratively to survive the mail system, look good and impress her readers without being overly bulky. By the end of the day, her office looked like it had exploded.

“Chocolates, all your favorites.” He passed me another box. “This is a subscription.” I took the box and opened it. “Book club?” Alex nodded. “I know how much you love to read so every month you’ll get your favorite book at your doorstep. No matter how old or how unique, you’ll get it.” I stared at his beautiful face. “That’s so considerate.” “Yes now all I need is a mug that says ‘Best boyfriend ever.’” “I already gave you a mouse pad that says that. Don’t get too cocky now.”

I start to rifle through the old musty smelling box of books that had been left on my porch, when I notice a little children’s book. I see the symbol of the Golden Children’s Books printed on it, then a little sticker on the binding indicating that it belongs to the library catches my eye. Examining it closer, the pages are bent back and discolored, but the book is still in suitable condition. My nails peel at the tape as I fidget and try to figure out what to do next.