Bookworm Style Novels & Stories

The general runs his fingers on the edge of the book as he flips every page creating an air that brushes his face. “I can smell the scent of old papers and the bitter taste of ink used. It was so old that the smell was preserved. The writer is good at expressing the words used in every sentence, he chooses words that children can fully be understanding, very kind and clever way of writing,” he said while reading some sentences from each page. “You really seemed to have a lot of knowledge when it comes to books. You said before that you used to be a poet. A writer?” Goryo ask.

I bite my tongue, holding back more questions. His face is too raw. Too exposed. And for the first time, I realize—Jack bleeds too. So I change the subject. “Hey, um... do you have a pack library or something?” I ask, trying to sound casual. He blinks. “Yeah. Why?” “Just bored,” I shrug. “Need something to read while you’re off being Alpha-y.” “You want books?” I nod, hiding my real motive.

She rocked back and forth on her heels, a nervous smile twitching along her lips. I want to laugh, but I remain professional. I’m supposed to be an expert in all things seduction and sex. I can’t break my cover now. I gently spell out her name before writing my unique yet generic as all h*ll personalized message. After that’s done, I scrawl out my signature, ‘G. Blake’ and close the book once I know the message won’t smear. I slip into the first few pages, a business card, a special bookmark, and a couple of stickers before I place the book in a printed small tote bag. A final touch of an art print of the main characters, and I then finally hand the bag to the reader. Nice and quick. Only ni

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.

He exames many of them, muttering to himself as he goes. "No, nope, no... ah, no... arr, yes here," he exclaims, pulling a leather bound book out and resting it on the nearest surface. "In my youth I would spend hours and hours reading all of these books several times, learning all I could. The tails of the red wolf fasnated me, I'd lose myself in the words... anyway, that name, it rings a bell, Rosalee, Rosalee, rosa... aha! Here!" He stops turning the pages and points to the page as we walk over to join him at the high side board. I look down at what he is pointing to, the pages are full of beautiful penmanship, and by the odd droplets of ink here and there, I'd say the author used a real

He was giving the bad boy genz vibe so yeah this shows that not only was I a sexy book store owner but that I do keep up on these things, make it my job to know if not for the naturally blond hair. This was not his first visit to the store, He’s been here before, but only to browse. Today, it’s different. He’s looking for something. I wonder which of his friends clued him in. He circles around the checkout counter for a while, picking up books and looking at them without looking at them. Opening them wherever the pages fall. Cracking spines. Smudging ink with his thumb. I keep doing the thing that I’m doing. It looks like paperwork, but really it’s just little scribbles on paper, something t

What a relief! The bookstore has a warm and inviting atmosphere. The design is classic, with wooden shelves that give a sense of tradition and permanence. The atmosphere is calm and silent, allowing perfect concentration so I can enjoy reading. I like environments like that, because they make me relax. Even though Dom's library is also wonderful and gives me almost the same feeling, the problem with all this is that every room in that place carries Dominique's scent and that must be why my head is all on alert. The little time we spend together is too much, it must be affecting me, because now, I'm calm here. I swipe through the pages of a survival manual, written by a guy who spent 3 months

"I don't work that way." "Then explain how you work." I walked closer to his desk. "I like browsing. I like touching the books, reading the summaries, opening random pages, and seeing what catches my attention." "That sounds remarkably inefficient." "It sounds normal." "It sounds time-consuming." "That's because it is." He studied me carefully, and I could practically see him constructing arguments in his head. I refused to give him the chance. "No," I said before he could speak, "you cannot have someone bring the entire bookstore here."

"I have a condition. Bibliomania. Medically diagnosed." "That's a real thing?" "Probably not. But it should be." She finally looked up at him. Really looked. Her eyes were dark and direct and slightly amused. "You're very tall." "I am." Axel wasn't sure what to do with that. "Do you need help with those?" "The books? I've got them." She demonstrated by immediately dropping two. "Mostly." Axel picked them up. Read the covers—both romance novels. "Good books?" "The best kind. Loud heroines, complicated men, happy endings." She took them back. "You don't read romance."

He waited, in the specific and patient way of a man who understood that this sentence had not yet arrived at its content. "For a person," I said. "Whose taste I am attempting to characterize accurately." He took off his reading glasses. "Tell me what you know," he said. I told him. I told him about the medieval businesswomen and the Antwerp interior life. I told him about the novels that were not genre and not performatively literary. I told him about the receipt-as-bookmark, which I included not because I thought it was relevant to the selection of books but because it was true and I had decided when I walked through the door that I was going to be accurate about this rather than approximat