Booktok Reading Journal Novels & Stories

I entered mine, went through the three books I had gotten from the store, and set them down on the bed. I folded my arms and read their names. The Claiming Rites, Finding the One, and Under the Red Moon. There was no order in which anyone should read these books, so I sat down and picked up The Claiming Rites. After an hour, I finished reading. The book made zero sense, and then I picked up Finding the One and spent another hour reading through it. While the first book was incomplete, the second made a little more sense. I picked up the third, which I had gone to Zion’s room with. I took my time reading, and another hour went by.

When my shift ended, I found myself walking toward the corner table where Kael sat, his laptop closed now, a book in his hands. I stopped short when I saw the cover. ‘Knot We Cannot Untie.’ That was the book he was holding. I can't believe that Kael would be reading one of Linda Lively’s books. “You read… this?” I said, the surprise evidently in my voice. Kael looked up, one brow raised. “Why? You think I only read racing magazines and bank statements?” I gave a small laugh. “Chill bro. It’s just… not what I was expecting ”

Once we settle in and she seems more calm, I give her a gentle reminder that she and I still need to talk about what happened the previous night. She sets her burger down and brushes the crumbs off of her fingers. “Hold on, let me get my book.” She climbs off the stool and hops off to her room. She comes back quickly with a ragged, thick blue book with bits and pieces of papers sticking out of it and climbs back onto the stool, facing me. “I'm so glad Mom put this in my bag. She remembered how important it is to me. This isn’t just a notebook, Keller. It’s kind of like a diary, I guess, or a journal? I’ve been trying to figure out the difference. And depending on the website you refer to, I

“But we should probably go through things thoroughly before we leave. Just to be on the safe side.” “Then we should probably get started,” Lucas said, turning the page. A knot formed in my stomach suddenly. I grabbed the book from his hands. Not wanting him to read the contents. He looked at me in shock. “These are my mother’s journals. Her diaries,” I said, holding the book to my chest. “These are her most private thoughts. Helene and I will read them.” Lucas’ expression softened with understanding. He hooked a finger under my chin and leaned in to kiss me.

he was still as cocky as ever, typical Beta. After he said that no bumps would appear because the book seemed light, he took it. We both stared at the book that appeared to be a journal. We gave each other a curious look. Why would there be a journal on the shelves of the encyclopedia at the library? I knew it was wrong to look through someone else's diary, but my curiosity got the best of me. I took the journal from Ace and started to flip through it. The journal seemed old; the pages of the book were turning brown. There were liquid stains on some of the pages too. The diary was well organized, there were no lines, but the entries were styled.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the couch, the spine of a book, the ceramic mug still warm from my tea. “I didn’t think you’d ever find it,” I said finally. She turned. “I wasn’t looking.” That surprised me. She smiled gently. “It found me.” I nodded. Because that’s how the right truths always do. Calla’s Daughter – POV She pulled the journal from her backpack and placed it on the table between us. “Do you want to read it?” I asked. River didn’t answer right away. Then: “Only if you’re ready.” I nodded.

Let me know what you think about the book so far in the comments and what you expect to see as your suggestions and reviews is what I use to make my book better🫶 Thank you so much readers, I love you all❤️

What a spiteful little man, she thought. Caitlin wasted no time. She cracked open the first book, an old tome from the nineteenth century, thick, leather-bound. As she turned its frail and brittle pages, she went into speed-reading mode, reading the pages faster than she ever had in her life, looking for keywords, places, locations, ideas. Anything that would lead to another book, another idea, another lead, another clue. Anything with substance.

I am drawn like a magnet to the spot where I hid the book, taking it out between spaces. I glance around as if someone is there even though I know that I am alone and study the edges for a hesitant moment. I have avoided reading it for three days, but I can not deny I want to read more of Xirrians story. It calls to me and tells me that its words are mine. That they belong to me. I sit beneath the light of an oil lamp, my knees pulled up my chest, and I open the journal with shaky hands. I hold my breath for a moment. I do not know why I am keen on ruining myself.

Perhaps the words are readable only to me, unlike the other red book. This realization makes the whole thing even more ominous than before. "I guess it's only me who can read this one." "How convenient," she quips sarcastically again. I laugh at her joke and the eye roll she adds at the end, before looking down and feeling the pages. A rush of power pulses through my hands, and I take a deep breath. "I've realized the book is divided into two halves, in a way," I begin explaining to her. "The first part seems like a journal of some sort, and the second part holds things that look like incantations and rituals."