Booktok Journal Novels & Stories

Thanks for your support and love shown towards this book. Book2 will be coming up soon.💜

he said and started unwrapping it. I could only hope as he opened the box that I would not be disappointed. Inside was a book, a journal to be specific, with an elaborate cover design containing the few collections of memories, techniques, and musings of the pack while on enemies, the irregulars, and all the rest. W-What is this... wow,” Lucian exclaimed in shock whose brain appeared to be overwhelmed with all the contents he was flipping over. “You really went all out on this.” “It’s because I figured that we can deduce a plan on the rogues and archive everything,” I defended, a bit proud and a bit ashamed.

I announced, injecting a note of reassurance into the room. Trevor, sensing a lull in the urgency, reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn journal. He gestured towards me, saying, "Since we have a bit of time, my father wanted you to read this book. He said it's better you know the things that were written in it." Curiosity piqued, I took the journal from Trevor's outstretched hand. The weight of the worn pages hinted at the significance of its contents. As I opened it, the musty scent of aged paper wafted into the air, adding a layer of authenticity to the moment.

Our bedroom became a place to rest instead of a place to brace ourselves. I bought a journal in March at a bookstore near the foundation offices. Nothing fancy, just a simple leather-bound notebook. That night after the kids were asleep, I sat at the kitchen table and wrote about our life. The mundane, ordinary moments that felt like gifts. Monte is losing his first tooth and putting it under his pillow with such ceremony. Sophia refused to wear anything but her princess costume for three days straight. Four burning pancakes on Saturday morning and Monte telling him it was okay because they tasted good anyway.

Now that I’d mostly learned how to translate his crappy handwriting, I was able to slowly pick my way through it. The first page described him… Writing a book? My gaze jerked back to the spare room and then dipped back to the journal to keep reading. The next few pages were about his pack buddies and his family. He seemed close to them. Then his book was mentioned again. Insurrection. I dropped the journal again, and crossed the hallway yet another time, stopping in front of the bookshelf. My eyes scanned the many, many books, until… Insurrection. Bingo. I grabbed the paperback off the shelf, and my eyes scanned the cover. It had a snake and a skull and looked kind of epic, definitely someth

Her aunt gives her a small smile and nods, Celine finds the bookmark and opens to the page. The woven bookmark has a faded blue tassel and was made of woven threads depicting wolves running in a forest, at the bottom of the bookmark was an old wolf’s tooth with a hole drilled through to be able to tie it onto the bookmark. She puts it to one side to look at the page it had been marking. It looked much like many of the others she had seen flipping through. But its words had her feeling like her world was slipping through her fingers and she was unable to do anything to stop it.

I glanced up at him, lips quirking despite myself. “I’m not summoning any dead yet,” I said. “But maybe… we’ll keep this book close. Just in case.” He smirked. And the library’s torches flickered around us like they approved. ***** The moment I opened the book, I expected it to be unreadable. Ancient glyphs. Arcane markings. Cursed symbols glowing faintly with forbidden mana. Instead—block letters. Neat, plain block letters. Necromantic Fieldwork Journal And Personal Notes

But she… didn’t flinch. Lena walked over to a little table display and picked up a thin, cloth-bound book. She walked over to him, holding it out like an offering. *The Quiet Between Lightning Strikes.* A poetry book. The cover was old and nubbly, the title scribbled in fine silver ink. Julian stared at it like it was an alien thing. "What's this?" "A book," she said, smiling. "I told you. I don't—"

Free. Beautiful. It felt like he'd captured a moment even I didn’t know was special. The thumping of my heart was almost overwhelming. Beneath the frame lay a small leather-bound journal. My fingers brushed across its cover before opening it. The first page was handwritten, his script neat but bold: Things to know before your wolf comes. The title alone made my throat tighten. I turned the page, reading a few lines. They weren’t from a textbook. They were personal and practical.

Realizing that I'm clenching too hard at the side of the frame, I loosen my fingers. The leather bound book catches my attention next and when I take it and get a closer look at it. I immediately realized it’s a journal. My mom’s journal? I flip it open.