Bookworm Cabin Novels & Stories

Overhead, a log cross beam ran the width of the cabin, and there was a large ring attached to its center. In the right back corner was a cast-iron pot-bellied stove. It was a necessity for heating the place, especially in winter. You could also use it for cooking or heating water. Not far from the stove near the back wall, Blake's eyes ran to his favorite piece in the cabin: an antique copper hip tub he'd brought over from a shop he'd stumbled upon during a trip to Montreal. On the same trip, he'd also picked up a vintage, blue silk tri-fold screen which stood behind the tub. He had plans for that tub tonight.

Aurora The cabin is small, stuffy, with a horrible stench of animal flesh and burnt cedar radiating through the small space. There’s a kitchen fit for one person at a time, chunks of meat set out on the counter, fresh and bloody from a recent kill. The living room is a few lounge chairs facing the fireplace that runs smoke outside, some of it staying dormant indoors, making it hard to breathe without tasting the stench.

learn to fight in my human form against weres. I am powerful, even in my human form, but to what extent, I don’t know. Hopefully I will find out soon, during this conversation. I scan the room around me and look at the beauty that is my grandmother’s cabin. We call it the magic house, for more reasons than just the fact that she is a witch. It is shockingly large and open on the inside compared to how small it appears from outside. We are elevated on stilts near the river with two levels of wrap around decks giving her immense amounts of space to host gatherings. The yard is massive and impeccably landscaped, full of lilac bushes and perennials that thrive in the Pacific Northwest weather h

Katya sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of her cabin, surrounded by stacks of dusty books and old journals. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and a hint of lavender, her mother’s favourite herb. Sunlight streamed in through the small, round window, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the particles of dust that danced in the air. She carefully opened one of her mother's old journals, its leather cover worn and soft from years of use.

"Yeah, all right." "Yes!" She pumped her fist and he swallowed his chuckle. This kid was a trip. The late April sun still rode high, slanting through the trees to dapple the big Victorian house that Pru and her sisters had turned into a bed and breakfast last year. The Misfit Inn nestled among the trees, perched on top of a bluff overlooking the Great Smoky Mountains. Off to one side, work trucks surrounded the converted barn that now housed the day spa. He wasn't sure exactly what they were doing over there, but the Reynolds sisters were nothing if not ambitious.

So many stories he’d never read and knowledge he’d never acquired. His hand fell to his side as he stepped away from the bookshelf and scanned the room. The headlight beam slid over a leather couch, globe table lamp, stacks of more books, and a decanter on the edge of a desk. Behind it, a dark fireplace. “Well shit for me timbers, there you are you brown goddess.” “Call it my tip for the year, WY.” B took another long gulp of whiskey.

"Through writing.] -- Mallory was led towards a small cabin deeper inside the underground forest. It looked abandoned, and as expected, it was dusty and dirty outside. The cabin contained the basic necessity for it to be called a comfortable home. A bed, a kitchen, a table and chairs, and a bookshelf. Mallory looked at the bookshelves, and one caught her attention. It was a notebook. Unlike others which were created beautifully, it was a notebook that looked like it had faced hardship in its whole life.

The next week is the most surreal week of my life. I settle into Kyle’s cabin—a surprisingly cozy home with a wraparound deck that’s a short ways behind the bar, tucked away in the trees. It’s nothing like the sparse bachelor pad I would have pictured for him; there are squashy sofas and bookcases crammed with paperbacks, and the cranky bar boss has strung bird feeders in the nearest branches and wrapped string lights around his deck rail. It’s cute as hell. Like something I might have cut out of a magazine when I went through that vision board phase.

can walk JC let me down' I say rubbing my eyes. JC puts me on my feet and we were walking down a hill 'where are we?' I ask as I was looking around 'This is the Sanborn park I usually come here to stretch my legs and be on my own for a little' he says 'oh but isn't the park more up hill? I ask. He nods, he didn't say much more after that we kept walking along the trail the air was very refreshing it was slightly cold but because we are wolves we don't get cold, the smell of wet dirt and trees just fells so good to inhale into my lungs there were trees everywhere, moss on the rocks we went over to get to the small river. We had to jump over to get to the other side of the river to continue

But I swept those thoughts away and sat back on the bed with fresh tea and the book. "Ick," I sputtered over the bitter drink until my tongue was ready for me to try again. It was scalding hot and not what I was used to drinking in Laernear. Before long I was on my second cup and nearly done with the book. Thumping boots greeted me, and I whipped my head up to see Caliban approaching the door. I sighed in relief that it was him and not the owners of this cabin coming out of season. This time he had a doe over both of his shoulders. His amber eyes glanced at me as he stomped in, but he turned away after seeing the book in my hands. I rolled my eyes in his direction and went back to reading wh