Booktok Covers Novels & Stories

He nodded slowly and before he could say anything more, the bedroom door swung open. Erick and Jess stood at the doorway; they were both breathless, so we knew they were running. Jess held one of the thickest books I had ever seen; it was a large brown book with golden decals swirled throughout the cover. In the front of the book, in a silvery oval was a white infinity symbol I didn’t quite recognize and then written in white above the symbol read: Book of Magic. “Woah…” I breathed, staring at the book. It was real.

I can’t believe what I'm seeing right now. "Fuck, it's already released?" I asked in disbelief. I could not stop my hands from taking a copy of my book. The cover of this book is very familiar to me, it was me and Zie but our faces are cut, Zie's naked body is the only thing I love about the cover as if he's compelling you to grab the book and buy it. "Yes, it was distributed the other day at different national bookstores," Zie informs me. I stared at my book again, it's really beautiful, the cover was hardbound so it seemed like it was just like the international books that were released.

] A picture of her holding a book to her face was sent. Lei stared hard at the cover. It almost looks the same with the one he was holding at first glance but upon closer look, it was actually different. Their style and vibe was differing completely. The one in his hand gave off a slightly softer vibe with a hint of romanticism, belonging to most cultivation novels. The one on his sister’s however, was completely dark with no signs of romance in it at all- just looking at the cover will make you take a glimpse of how dark it is inside. Their only sole similarity that made them look alike at first glance was the color of the robes, both guys on the cover was wearing, and the fact that they bo

My eyes widened with anticipation, but inside, I found only a thick, leather-bound book. The cover was faded and worn, with the strange symbol embossed on it; a triangle with three circles inside. I ran my fingers over the symbol, a chill creeping up my spine. I had no idea what it meant, but it seemed significant, almost sacred. With hands that trembled, I lifted the book from the chest. The pages were thick and yellowed, and an old, musky smell filled the air as I carefully opened it.

I stretch up on my toes and pull it out, and seconds later I succeeded like I always do when I put my mind on things. Sending a cloud of dust motes swirling into the air while allowing it for a moment to escape from the shelf, I blew the dust from the cover. There were no words printed on the front or spine, just a simple black leather binding cracking with age, and strange symbol I do not recognize.

Cole brings it to me, sitting back down on the couch while the kids roll around with their toys on the rug in front of us. Maeve is slack in Aviva’s arms, both of them fast asleep on the opposite couch. I smile at the image and quietly rip the paper away. It’s a book. Smaller than average and bound by fresh leather. There’s no title engraved on the cover. I look up at Cole, thinking he’d be smiling and a little pink in the cheeks in anticipation for my reaction, but he looks grave. I open it. It’s a printed rendition of the Book of Whispers.

The book cover was made of thick leather with parchment pages tightly bound together with twine. With trembling hands, Anna opened the cover and began reading the first page, and the next, and the next. She was astonished to see the text was word-for-word the exact same as the manuscript her publishing company was about to release in a few days, plus several thousand years in the future.

The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71. I found the second shelf on the case and scanned for my next book. Book thirteen had a cover of deep purple. I frowned at the woman looking up at me, scanning over her tangled fiery curls, the cinnamon freckles across her nose, and the way her emerald eyes seemed to twinkle at me from the cover. Her hair and eyes were the only familiar thing about her. My face was a bit rounder than hers, and definitely held a bit more baby fat. Her cheekbones were high and her lips full, conventionally beautiful in a wild sort of way. I felt that twinge of guilt as I looked down at the cover. “Sasha Burnette, Game 51.”

As he grabs the orange books, he feels the hard cover and runs his hand on the embossed title – The Darkest Minds. He notices a weird symbol on its cover, it doesn’t seem to be out of the ordinary. A book has got to have an interesting cover, hasn’t it? As he opens the cover to explore its pages, something falls out – it was a bookmark. He picks it up from the floor and he presses it at the very back of the book to lessen the chance of it falling again. He feels the pages and one can tell how expensive the printing must be on this book. It doesn’t feel like ordinary paper. It is definitely something a bookworm will appreciate for the rest of their life. It's to bad, he got his hands on the s

Back to the front cover. Kenneth gave me this book as a present. For drawing purposes, I know it's a sketchpad with white blank papers. Just ordinary... Yet now, I'm witnessing with my own two eyes how the plain abstract cover erased its colors, transforming into something red with cursive design at the center. Written in thick italic letters, THE BOOK OF STRINGS wrote itself as if there's an invisible hand with golden ink writing them. If I'm in my right state of mind, I would have screamed, tuck my tails, and bolt to ask for help. But I did nothing of those...