Booktok Journal Novels & Stories

He was still acting like a pathetic little child. By the time I finished writing all my thoughts down in the journal, I noticed that I had filled four whole pages. I didn't realize that there was so much going through my head. But it did feel like a relief to get it out in the open. Well, at least in my journal. It was something that I needed to get out. Even if it was just to myself. To a book sitting in front of me. A book that would never betray me or hurt me.

It felt like she was still here with me, in this room, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else. I heaved a heavy sigh and turned around, but something caught my attention on her bookshelf. There, nestled between the works of Jane Austen, was a small leather-bound journal that I had never seen before. I picked it up, feeling its soft cover under my fingertips and carefully flipping through the pages. As I read her delicate handwriting, my heart ached with both joy and sadness. This journal was a window into her thoughts, her feelings, her dreams. It was like a piece of her that I had never known before.

"That was fast." Greg is looking at me skeptically and i smile back at him. Something wonderful has jus happened to me and i don't know if i want that high to be over yet. I surely like the fact that i'm happy and i guess it's not bad that i'm happy. I should be happy because i got the freaking book! Greg walks off into the kitchen and i open my bag to take out the journal i put in there. My to do list is on the first page and there's the instinctive fear in me that i should not be keeping a journal.

If my handjob sucked, then I had to make it better, learn the best way to treat a cock, and whip him up with something he’ll never forget. “Noah”—his moans played in my head as I searched the shelf for something helpful. [The Faith of the Dragon Lair] [How to kill a dragon] [The Art of Fireflies] [An Omega’s Journal] My finger paused at the last book, “An Omega’s Journal.” It sounded intriguing and also felt like it was written from experience. I pulled the book out of the shelf, dusting it off and removing the particles in search of the author’s name. No name, no copyright claims… Who would leave something this private in a library?

Add to library to gain update as this book will be updated daily, at least one chapter. Thanks for choosing Eat Me out of thousands of book in the application, I'm so glad. And I also appreciate your kindest support towards this book. See you again in a short while and happy days ahead. Love, Ibiso

My friend had done a good job putting the library together, organizing the books by subject, with like topics together on each shelf just as I’d requested. I had also ordered several journals and notebooks for note-taking. These were stacked in a tidy pile on the top shelf. I selected a black suede journal and took it to bed, where I eased myself into a comfortable position. It was crazy how little activity it required, this week, to make me desperate to get my feet elevated. “Okay,” I said, flipping open to the journal’s first page and compulsively writing today’s date in the upper right corner. “I’m making notes about questions to ask her, before she and I meet back up to talk about the ca

He said. Annabel held the book up. The journals pages were clean and blank. The cover had a tiny straightforward design embossed on it. “What is it?” she asked. “It's a journal. I believed you could write your new story with it. An entirely new start. A place where you can think. Something to use your imagination for.” He said. A flood of tears filled Annabel's eyes. It was such a simple yet considerate gesture. It showed his belief in her and was a small silent acknowledgement of her journey.

I go the opposite way, painstakingly reading each and every title. “Callie!” Alice exclaims excitedly. “I think I found something.” I hurry over, seeing her pull a smaller black book off the shelf. There’s no title on this book, only a gold Baphomet overlaid on the leather. “The Book of the Beast,” I whisper, eyes lighting up. “I think you did find something.” She cracks the spine and I lean over, heart racing. And then the library doors open and close with a boom, echoing throughout the entire room. Alice and I both jump, and she quickly shoves the book into her cloak.

The romance was being squeezed out. "The journal" Elara shouted, her bare knees hurt as she fell flat onto the asphalt to pick up the black leather book that was lying between them. The moment her fingers touched the leather, the blank white pages inside the journal did not just move they started bleeding. A lot of midnight-blue fluid came out of the journal mixed with the cold rain water and formed a swirling indigo circle around her ankles. The gold letters on the cover of the journal; THE MASTER LEDGER: VOLUME TWO ​flared with a white-hot, blinding radiation that scorched the skin of her palm, the unique, un-templated human syntax of her blood-infused veins screaming in protest against th

Within seconds, I was scanning lines that felt familiar, making me huff quietly. “This is what she reads?” I muttered, picking up another book with similar themes. This one was about a dominant executive and a stubborn assistant with heated exchanges disguised as professional conflict. Reaching for the third, I shook my head, amused despite myself. “So this is the narrative she consumes, no wonder she talks back.” I muttered, setting the novel down then reached for the stack beneath it. It was a leather bound journal which was worn slightly at the edges from use. I hesitated as personal journals were boundaries but curiosity has always been my flaw.