Bookworm Cabin 소설 & 이야기

Greta and Gabby made their way to Page Turner’s Bookstore just down the street from the Blue Moon Inn. Once inside the warmth of the large shop, Greta was surprised to see a bright modern shop, which included not only a metaphysical section, but my children’s section, too. With soft upbeat music playing in the background, it didn’t take long to find the shopkeeper chatting away to a rather wild looking dog by a fireplace.

Jasper's heart was racing, he could have turned away from her but it was as if she's explaining what he has been curious about. "Ok Jasper, that cabin isn't a normal cabin, there's a book y'all shouldn't come across, you all should never read it, if you can get it before your friends, you all would be safe and never come back to the cabin, right now, the other ghosts wouldn't let you rest, especially my mother" she brushed a strand of her hair away.

“It’s Arella Rogue who booked the cabin. Our guest is a guy named Clyve—” “Okay. I should start cleaning because we still have to go to town for groceries.” The cabin was made of finest woods from the foundation, walls, and floorboards. It was a little bit old that we had to make sure it was not infested by termites. This one had only a small room, kitchenette with small cupboards, and a single Viking stove. A living room with enough space for a wooden rocking chair and an old black leather couch, which was Keene’s father’s favorite. There was a small fireplace with readied piles of wood.

My wolf howls inwardly, triumphant and terrified. The cabin emerges from the trees like a hidden gem: log walls weathered by time, a stone chimney puffing faint smoke from the banked fire I’d left earlier. I push open the door, ushering her inside. The interior is simple— a large hearth dominating one wall, flanked by bookshelves crammed with tomes on pack history and herbal lore; a worn leather couch facing the fire; a kitchenette with herbs drying from the rafters, filling the air with sage and lavender. My bed looms in the corner, unmade, sheets rumpled from my restless sleep the night before. "Make yourself comfortable," I say, gesturing to the couch. "I’ll brew some tea—chamomile, to ca

I shake my head and chuckle, even though no one would dare to look at me with him around, he still was behaving like an insecure new boyfriend. Carter's gift to us was this beautiful trip to this paradise we came to know as Bora Bora island, now we are in this beautiful cabin over the transparent waters, enjoying the calm and the peace it came with it's setting. The hotel has a big two story building in the shore, but every room is actually a cabin floating nearby. Inside our cabin, everything is simple and yet fantastic; a white wooden bed with soft sheets, pillows everywhere. Even the weather here since we arrived has been fantastic, and I love leaving the windows wide open and to see the

The scent of burning wood mingled with the myriad of aromatic herbs drying from the rafters above—a heady mix of rosemary, sage, and thyme that often filled her with a sense of comfort. Yet today, an unsettling turmoil churned within her, threatening to unravel the peace she had fought so hard to protect. Her cabin was a small structure nestled at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a place unknown and unfamiliar for the people outside, also away from the other residents of the forest. Rough-hewn wooden beams framed the walls, and the slanted roof was covered in dark shingles, each tile imperfect yet snug against the elements. The space was cluttered, not unlike her mind, with potion bottles l

Part of me was scared if Axel was ever to find us. And that we were just… forgotten. We found it just before dusk, a shape tucked between thick trees, half-covered in vines and shadow. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. But Amber saw it too. A cabin. Not a grand one. Just a single-room wooden structure with a slanted roof and a broken porch step. The door was hanging crooked on its hinges, creaking slightly with the breeze. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.

Everything was just cold and darkness and putting one foot in front of the other because Diro's hand was pulling her forward. Then, through the trees, she saw a shape. A building. Small and dark but definitely man-made. "There," Diro said, seeing it too. "Come on." It was a hunting cabin. Old and abandoned, with boarded windows and a door hanging crooked on its hinges. But the roof looked intact and the walls were solid wood. It was the most beautiful thing Beverly had ever seen. Diro pushed the door open. It groaned on rusty hinges but swung inward. Inside was darkness and the smell of dust and animal nests. But it was dry. And out of the wind.

Christine had always been interested in how the mind worked, but she wouldn’t live her life based on fear of something that might happen. They both took off their coats. The cabin was already warm. “As long as it takes,” Terrence said as he walked farther inside. Christine followed him and looked around. The cabin was one big open room made of logs, with a high ceiling supported by huge wooden beams. There was a small kitchen on one side, a wood-burning stove giving off heat, and cozy, rustic furniture. Along one wall stood a large king-sized bed with a colorful quilt and a carved wooden frame that looked handmade.