Cinder Book Cover Novels & Stories

Artemisia had briefly forgotten that that day wasn't normal, she's starting to realize, and think, that maybe she's not the one who's going crazy. The girl approached the shelves and Helga's voice danced again in her mind. "The navy blue cover book will tell you a story, I can't tell you which one, only the book is entitled to that." Artemisia didn't understand, but soon found the book near the second door. It was a heavy book, but not as thick as expected. It had a glow reminiscent of sunbeams touching the greenish water of a river or lake. It also had nymphs drawn on the cover and side of the leaves.

My fingers examined the fine-textured white substance. It smelled of old perfume and...gasoline? The odd scent only boggled me more. "What are you?" I whispered. Was it just some powdered chemical to keep the bugs out? Or something else entirely? ◇ "Vampirar et Dhampirica" The gothic-styled calligraphy printed in gold ink intrigued me as I studied the brownish, tattered cover. It was a vintage-looking book Miles currently engrossed himself in as he sat next to me.

"Well, it's... It's hard to explain, the book explains it all." "Is it interesting?" She asked looking at the book cover, it was of a young teenager holding a lamp in what looked to be a dark cave, a bat was hanging of his hands and an old witch was behind him. "It looks interesting," She muttered. "It is," He assured. She nodded her head with a small smile and placed her iPods in back, resting her head back against the car seats, she closed her eyes.

while all the other maids were dismissed from there from this event. Empress understood that it's time to open the book ... but still the carvings were going on . so she just decided to wait for a little while and gestured Carol to sit beside her couch to accompany her. Soon , the carving and drawings stopped and the title of the book became visible. Just like the book was heavenly and posed a magnificent aura, similarly the title and the cover were more than lavish and could lure anybody towards it to read it . The title was engraved like it was carved with blood in red colored bold letters over the golden cover giving it an appearance like that dagger which was tucked beside the book was

With lack of better things to do, I carefully climbed down the ladder and went to the kitchen to get a bowl of water and a handful of towels. There were some books with leather covers that would need a damp towel and others were paperbacks that'd just require dusting. I got to work quickly, cleaning and dusting my way through until I came across a book titled, "The Curse of Vlod." The cover was leather and the sides were embedded with intricate silver swirling, making it look like something out of a fairy tale. I immediately opened it and was so relieved it was written in English. I quickly stepped down from the ladder and sat against the wall, going through the pages.

A book with a leather binding. No diamonds. No large sums of money. No secret weapons or blueprints. Just a book. I felt stupid for a moment. Then I reached in and took it out. The weight of it was substantial and firm. The spine was strengthened with old thread and the leather has become smooth with use and age. I had never seen a single crest stamped on a cover before. A crown, dagger and an ember. All three combined to form a single horrifying symbol. I took my place at the desk and got it open. and started reading.

The violent disarray wasn’t the methodical search of a victor; it was the tantrum of a thief who had come up empty-handed. Kaelen’s torchlight fell upon the only thing left untouched in the center of the room: a large, flat stone altar. On it rested a single, pristine object. A book, bound in what looked like pale, silvery leather. It was closed, with no title, but a symbol was tooled into its cover—the same symbol from the bone resonator: the wolf unraveling into a spiral.

She pushed the massive door open effortlessly, and we walked inside. I looked around, and there was row upon row of books. There were shelves from floor to ceiling lined with books. Nunny led the way to the back, and she walked over to one of the shelves. She pulled off a large leather-bound book. She walked over and handed it to Jarren. I watched him as he ran his hand along the crescent moon on the front. I watched as he flipped the book over, and there was a sun symbol on the back. Both symbols looked precisely like the ones on our bodies. This was getting way too freaky.

I placed my hand on the cold knob, and it creaked open under my push, revealing a library. Dust floated in the amber light coming from a chandelier, the scent of old paper surrounded me like an embrace. Shelves towered on all sides, cracked and faded with a variety of books. My fingers drifted along the titles crested in the rectangular back of the books, then something caught my eye—a red hardback, its cover smooth and untouched. The title was etched in gold: LEGACY OF THE CROSS.

Eyes the color of wet stone. He looked at me the way people look at something they have already decided to keep. “Elena Voss,” he said. “Come in.” The room smelled faintly of cedar. Two armchairs facing each other across a low table. A single lamp throwing warm light. Behind him, a wall of books with titles I recognized from my father’s study. Experimental hypnosis. Dissociative states. The ethics of suggestion. I sat. He sat. The silence stretched until my pulse felt loud.