Booktok Reading Journal Novels & Stories

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.

>POV: CARRIE Thе nоtеbооk іѕ becoming mу constant соmраnіоn. I’vе read аnd rе-rеаd іt ѕо many tіmеѕ, thеrе аrе paragraphs I knоw vеrbаtіm. I dесіdе іt’ѕ tіmе to leave mу mark.

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?

A few minutes later Jacob walks into the room in his usual sweatpants and shirt. "I brought the book back," I said, standing up. I hand it over to him and he takes it. "Did you read it?" He asked flipping through the pages presumably to look for bookmarks. "Of course and I loved it- no sorry I lived it," I responded with a smile on my face. I can't believe I read a book with more than 300 pages. I have never pictured myself doing that but It isn’t a choice anyway, I had to do it because of Jacob. I need him to spend time with me so I can crack all the holes in this house but aside from that, I did enjoy the book.

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I opened my eyes to find Brock’s side of the bed empty and I sighed. Not again! Did he regret already? I sighed and slid out of the covers putting on my underwear. I stared at the huge library of books on the wall and smiled. So Brock read books, how cute, a book caught my attention and I saw that I was an old journal written by Brock. “You know, you shouldn’t snoop” said Brock voice behind me and I whirled around, his journal fell from my hands and he smiled.

I wasn’t. “May I have it back?” ‘You should give it back, you rude twat!’ Bane scolded me. I took the book up to my eyes and scanned the content. Save for a few words on the front, it was relatively empty. “Oh. It’s a journal,” I rolled my eyes. “And it’s empty,” she had an accusing look on her face…one that made me frown as I handed the book back to her. “What?” “You know, since you forgot things…you didn’t think keeping a daily log of things would help you remember when your memory goes ‘poof!’?”

Like the story is more than ink and paper. I find myself leaning a fraction, not enough to be obvious, just enough to watch how her eyes move across the page. Little darts when something makes her smile inside. A longer pause when a line lands with weight and she lets it sit there a heartbeat too long. My head, as always, starts sorting. Why a book instead of a phone? Why that one? What’s the bookmark for? The storm in my skull wants to dissect it all, wants a neat file labeled Explanation. But my mouth betrays me and twitches into a half smile before I can stop it.

Sophie's POV “This is impossible.” I managed to say the words. I reached for the library shelf. The air smelled of old, rusty papers. I touched a worn-out journal. It tingled. Almost like a heartbeat. “The Ledger of Satiety.” My heart skipped. My father told me stories of Alpha Alaric, the legendary king. Now I held his personal journal. He would teach me ancient recipes and speak of Alpha Alaric while we cooked. I snatched the book. My excitement caused a mistake. I knocked over my open water bottle.

It would be so easy to get carried away and forget all about the books in her lap. Focus, stupid, focus. You can think about the hot guy making you dinner later. She flipped open the top book to the chapter she needed to read. Over the next hour, she pored over her books, working through the chapters and taking detailed notes. Nothing distracted her, not even the occasional noises from the kitchen. Finally it all went quiet, and she was done with her assigned readings. She tucked the books back in her bag and looked around the room. The lamps near the couch were now on, and night had taken over outside. The dining room table was set for two, and two plates of food were set out along with two