Button Man Book Novels & Stories

"May I have a pen and piece of paper?" Robert promptly had a servant fetch some, after which Frank unreservedly wrote down a manual on the improved Boltsmacker. It was different from the one he taught Yara before, since this one was tailored for men while Yara's was more suited for women. He soon finished, and Robert held the manual in hand carefully as if it were a treasure, reading it repeatedly while feeling completely overjoyed. "This is amazing! Simply amazing!" he exclaimed repeatedly and looked towards Frank with such enthusiasm that he would have Frank marry Yara on the spot!

I had the urge to touch it, so I reached forward for it. "I wouldn't touch that if I were you," I jerked at the gruff voice and turned around. It was an old woman with grey asymmetric Bob hair and beautiful brown skin. She held a walking stick with a snake's head and red eyes. She wasn't green, blue, or decapitated like the others, she looked like a real woman. "That book might be titled 'NAMES', but it is not a good book. Those five letters stand for something, terrible things. Open that book and you won't love what you will see,"

I couldn't hold it in, so I turned to Zavi and Alec, "How can you let this..man run a very essential business?." "You are here to fix it, aren't we?." Zavi replied. I turned and settled on a seat. "Can I have the ledger?." I asked him. The man bent to his desk drawer and began taking out many books. I watched as his shaky hands took out a long record book. He gave it to me, avoiding eye contact. The book was dusty and sticky. It smelt horrible. Did they shove this book into a fucking pussy?. I opened the book, careful not to tear any page as my eyes ran on it.

He glanced at them, then back at me, and slowly reached out, pushing the top four books back toward me with a single tap of his index finger. "Return these," he said. "What?" I blinked. His lips thinned, his broad shoulders rising in a dangerous sigh. "Do I appear likely to repeat myself?" I swallowed, shaking my head. "N-no." The man scared me to my core, yet somehow, I couldn't help noticing how his finely-tailored suit hugged the breadth of his shoulders and the taut definition of his biceps, or the way his neatly groomed hair was slicked back like a gentleman's. But there was nothing gentle about him. At least, not when it came to me.

And he had a long nose that looked like a cursive L – L. “Sal Maan Roos Dee. He is a big writer. One of the biggest of all times. This man, see,” revealed my brother, showing the back cover of the book he had in his hands. The passport size photograph of the man on the back cover was exactly like the man I saw in my visions. I AM NOT KIDDING! I mean it! The front cover read: “An Extraordinary Novel” – The New York Review of Books ________________________________________________ MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN

Somewhere in the city—several stories above, in a steel and glass building—Julian Blackwood lay in his dark, sleek bedroom, staring at the book she had given him. He'd never intended to keep it. When Lena Carter had offered it to him—those gentle words, that thoughtful crease between her eyebrows—he'd intended to refuse. But something in her eyes had taken away his intention. It was neither flirting nor pretense. It was genuine. Silent. Generous. He hated kindness. It broke things open. Julian gazed down at the book. The cover was unadorned, the title in gold print: *A Man Called Ove*. He remembered Lena's words:

Manik smiles. The white Iru enveloping him vanishes. “Harasho is the most reasonable dogma. You can say that it projects the current life.” Manik reaches into his jacket pockets and draws their contents. There are two books on his hands. A pink book with a couple smiling at each other on a heart frame on the cover is on his right hand and a red book with a short hair woman crying on the cover is on his left hand. “Which Doujin do you like, Your Highness?” Manik asked.

Peter's little mind was confused by the woman "But there are no books here, ma'am." "Please, Peter," she turned to him, "Call me Malinda." She offered a slight curtsey to him and he smiled as a response, not yet aware that he was standing in front of a royal, he forgot his manners. "And there are books in here, come see," Malinda seemed eager to share with Peter, her studies were clearly very important to her, thought Peter to himself. Malinda opened up a black leather book full of small vials of various colors. "What are they?" Asked young Peter, standing on the tips of his toes to see better.

“Better than that club, at least.” “Exactly.” April disappeared into the back room, returning with a stack of books. She plopped them in front of me. “Here. Keep your hands busy, maybe your brain will stop overloading.” I rolled my eyes but pulled the stack closer. “My brain has stopped overloading, work master.” “Motivator,” she corrected with a grin.

Thank Haven, it opens. We found the bookshelf that Robert is talking about and how he defend himself from getting accused by us of murder. Well, I hope it's false. "There must be a way to enter the passcode," Marina said. "Let's take all of the books out in each slab," I said. Marina helped me get rid of the books uncoated with aged webs and dust that layered up before. There it is a prostrate rhombus with a button below. Weird shape. There's a sticky note beside it and it was written in all capitals "PALM". It needed four digits to fill.