Bookworm Cabin Novels & Stories

When they were out of the main drinking area, where the nightclubs and bars were located, Lucas allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Ema would be pleased. After weeks of failure, they were positive that they would receive exactly what they had been looking for. Astor followed the smell to a little, independent bookshop nestled in between a thrift store and a vegan café. Over the door was a sign that proclaimed ‘Bookmark Haven’ in finely chipped gold paint. Indeed, the bookstore was closed, and all the windows in it were blind, but Lucas was convinced the individuals were still alive in the building.

“I love how primal and protective they are. Werewolves are family focused. I absolutely love it. You have no idea, I thought sadly, marveling at the fate of this conversation. I pointed to the crumpled cover of the book. — So you've had this book since you were fourteen? Allora shook her head. 'I bought this copy from a used bookstore in DownMoor. My father gave me a beautiful hardcover copy for my fourteenth birthday. But I wouldn't bring it somewhere. My books are precious, especially my father's. “A woman who speaks to my heart. She smiled then, a genuine smile that made my heart flutter against my stomach. - Oh yes? "I have a little cabin in Sherwood Forest," I explained. “I go there whe

Chapter 79 – Bachelor Weekend (Eli POV) The Airbnb my sister booked was supposed to be “rustic chic.” What it actually was: a cabin in the woods that looked like it had been decorated by someone who once saw a P*******t board called “Manly Retreat” and decided to commit crimes against taste. Wood-paneled walls. A stone fireplace big enough to roast a small village. A hot tub on the deck that smelled faintly of chlorine and regret. And—because my sister has a sense of humor—a life-size cardboard cutout of Dante in full game-day gear propped against the living-room wall like a silent chaperone.

Surely the owner advertised these as some sort of elegant retreat from the city. Maddox decreased the speed and then stopped them right in front of the cabins. When he parked, he helped her get off the bike. She swallowed her nervousness. “Thank you.” “Did I drive too fast?” “Oh, no.” Camille scanned the space. “Your heart was booming most of the ride.” “I have an anxiety disorder.” “Oh.” He widened his eyes. “How do you feel now?” “Fine. . .I think.” She took in the first cabin. Hearts had been engraved in the windows’ shutters. Several rustic chairs were positioned in the front. Burnt logs and rocks in the center, suggesting the men had put a campfire there.

Every piece of furniture was made of oak, and the motifs of fishing, hunting, bears, and trees seemed to be printed on every possible surface. Books lined every available shelf and stacked up higher than my head was a tower of DVD cases. The cabin had minimal internet, so we'd always brought our own entertainment and left it for the next season. Not being connected to the outside world was one of the perks of the cabin. “There's three bedrooms,” I explained as he helped me carry my suitcase to the biggest one. A big wooden bed dominated the room. “But since it's just me, I'm staying in the master. It's got the most comfortable bed in the world.”

"You?" "The last book I read? Uhm…" I pondered for a moment. "‘Little Women.’ Found it in one of the boxes at the cabin.” He nodded, “That might have been one of Aunt Beth’s favorite books.” “Wait, the cabin was owned by your Aunt?” “Yeah, it was one of her places. She left it to me before she moved to Canada and passed away.” “Oh, I'm sorry.” “It's okay. It's been a while. She was a bookworm and had a hobby to left a box of her favorite books in every place she left”

The cabin sat at the fringes of the woods, out of sight of all, a secret waiting. It wasn't big—one story, weathered boards, slanted roof dusted with snow. The porch creaked under my boots as I walked up to the door, the old handle cold under my fingers. Inside, it was just as I left it. The room was small but cozy, walls lined with stacks of used books, a faded couch in the corner, heavy blankets tossed over the arm. The fireplace took up one wall, the scent of old ash and pine from the last visit.

Pine smell permeated the air while woodland creatures chirped in the midst. After a 30-minute venture through the woods, I reached my destination. With a wave of my hand and muttering a few words a small cabin appeared in the clearing before me. It was nothing special just a small bunker I created for my privacy while residing in this pack. Entering the moss-covered, one-roomed cabin, I walk directly to a small cobblestone-built fireplace. With another wave, the fire ignited illuminating the small cabin's interior. Placed around is a small couch surrounded by shelves and shelves of various herbs, ingredients, and old tattered books.

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.