By Jane Austen Novels & Stories

After a moment of hesitation, she opened the door a little and peeped inside, when she saw no one, she opened it further and stepped in. Her gaze swept over the room once again, taking in its minimalist, yet elegant state. Everything was orderly, the bed was neatly made, and her eyes were drawn to the small bookshelf next to it. Curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself walking towards the bookshelf. “Jane Austen and R.L Stines,” she murmured as she ran her fingers along the spine of the books, “Interesting taste.” Her gaze landed on a picture frame wedged in between the books and her curiosity piqued further as she gently took it out.

He started to help her unpack her books, glancing at the spines as they started to shelve them in a tiny bookshelf that wouldn’t hold even half of her collection. Jane Austen, Charlotte Brontë, Elizabeth Gaskell, John Keats, Shakespeare, Virginia Woolf, Charles Dickens—so many books, most of which had clearly been read over and over again. Some were falling apart, barely glued together. When he took out a copy of Frankenstein, the cover fell off entirely. “Oh, poor guy. This one has been through a lot.” Rose took the book from him, smiling. That smile burst something inside him. Something hot, something dangerous. Something that felt exactly like longing. He caught his breath and forced hims

Jane staring at the two of them from behind felt like stabbing her with the t-square in her hand, she have been trying to get his attention all along but he won’t give her a chance. Yet he’s smiling cheaply at her like that, she’s a bitch! Jane thought and starts walking closer to Catherine with the t-square in her hand looking so sharp. All this Nella was looking without any signs of concern, cause she really do not care after all. T.B.C

" Jane, here are the clothes and hairdryer. Come downstairs after getting ready." Britney carefully said. Jane gave her a faint smile in response. Britney and Adrian soon came out of the room and went into the living room. ….. Finishing her bowl of soup Jane waited for her aunt to join her. She was exhausted and wanted to call off the day as soon as possible. No one had asked her any questions and she was thankful for that. Except for Adrian, who kept stealing glances at her to see her reaction. But she was too lost in her own world to notice anything.

Jullie knocked gently on the door. "Come in," Jane’s voice called from inside. Jullie pushed the door open and stepped in, turning back slightly to address Jane with a teasing tone. "I didn't wanna interrupt, you know." Jane was sitting by the window, reading a physical book, and she rolled her eyes playfully. "Stop it. He doesn't even have my time these days." "Woman of justice," Jullie teased, her voice layered with affection. "I can't believe this is you."

Her heart thudded in her chest as she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a book. A rare first edition of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, its leather-bound cover delicate yet immaculate. She gasped, her fingers brushing over the gilt lettering. Nestled beside it was a small, cream-colored card. She picked it up, her breath catching as she read the elegant script: “For a literature enthusiast. —N.B.”

PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS IT HELPS MY STORIES!!! I NEED TO KNOW WHERE I CAN IMPROVE OR WHAT I AM DOING RIGHT. THANK YOU Jane's car is small and cute. She looks adorable behind the wheel. Every small thing she does captivates me. She keeps shooting me timid glances, and they make me smile. I am staring at her in absolute bliss. I feel no shame in my ogling.

The man with a flat face leads the way, but Austin can see a thin smile always being displayed when he turns to the woman who used to live with him. Jane Oliver. Wearing a soft and light fuchsia pink chiffon dress, long-sleeved with simple details on the neck and arms. Even the body-hugging cut. Unfortunately, although simple, Jane's appearance this afternoon is very attention-grabbing. Her long hair is left beautifully loose, and her sunglasses are the perfect accessory. Very different from the Jane Austin has known all this time. Though if Austin were to be honest, none of the items or clothes Jane wears are from ordinary boutiques. They're all famous and classy. Especially since Jane was

She clasped her hands behind her back, fixed her eyes somewhere on the ceiling, and let loose her usual torrent of words. "I read a wonderful book called, Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë. It was written in 1847, but the characters in the book are so real that you feel as if they're living today. When I read this book, I felt as if I were Jane Eyre, a lonely, friendless orphan girl sent away to a cold, cruel boarding school where all the other girls despise her."

Everything about this house is wrong. Maybe I really shouldn't have stepped out of the car. I should have just scoffed and drove away with my no longer existent bumper. That would have saved me a lot. The man doesn't say anything, he just keeps staring— No, glaring at me. His gaze burrowing into me. Sweat trickles down my spine. He doesn't believe me. “I’m a huge fan of Jane Austen books. Pride and Prejudice.” I flash him the brightest smile I could pull.