Classic Books To Read In Autumn นิยาย & เรื่องราว

But I no longer had the heart to stay and admire the scenery. On the journey back, the wind poured into my collar, cold enough to chill me to the bone. And somewhere behind me, that gravestone had already faded from sight.

com Books by Autumn Dawn: Spark Series: When Sparks Fly Dorchester No Words Alone Dorchester Solar Flare Anthology for the Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance: Hemlock & Iron Indie books: Dark Lands Series: The Charmer Dark Lands: Homecoming Scent of Danger The Golden Bell Ghost in Her Heart Beast Wars The Woman Inside The Other Woman Through the Looking Glass Ride The Stars Careful, He Bites Interstellar Lover Under the Bridge

*Poppy* I was fidgeting in the backseat, clutching my documents. Outside the window, the trees merged into a beautiful landscape of colors, from dark greens to browns, oranges, and reds. Autumn has come. I loved this time of year the most. Not only did nature spoil us with colors, but the air smelled different. Evening walks seemed more romantic. Morning runs gave me energy, and pumpkin dishes were one of my favorites. Not to mention autumn evenings with wine and reading by the warm fireplace.

Like going back in time. Sunlight streamed delicately through the tall windows, creating golden strips that lit up random sections of books. It was a literary paradise. And I, daughter of a schoolteacher and a voracious reader by nature, found myself smiling for the first time in days. “Oh my God…” I whispered, running my fingers along the spine of a brown leather-bound volume. “There are more books here than in my university’s library.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. There were rare editions. Works in Latin. Books on philosophy, art, psychology, classical literature. Translations of Russian poets. Treatises on ancient wars. French romances. I felt like a child in a toy store.

he grinned. I found myself grinning along with him. I’d loved summer the most as a human, but since leaving Hollowbridge I’d begun to prefer autumn. It was warm and comforting, and I felt less lonely as the nights drew in earlier. I felt less obligated to busy myself, choosing instead to read by candlelight and watch the rain trickle down the window panes.

I doubt I would ever have to bring someone into my bedroom but it never hurts to be prepared. That kind of love sounded like a myth but I knew it was out there for whoever was lucky enough to find it. I had never been lucky and I doubt I would ever be. I picked up pride and prejudice, my all time favorite classic and wondered when and if I would ever find my own Mr. Darcy. Shoving sentiments aside, I opened the large bag I had come with and shoved some of the books in it. I would read them every night and come back for more when I was done with the pile.

I watched her as she expertly logged the books and placed it on the cart by the section it should be placed on. “It’s The Night of the Holy Grail.” August halted in the middle of turning over an old copy of Don Quixote. I knew that would get her attention. In the weeks I’ve known August, there is nothing she loves more than everything classic and medieval. She quickly flickered her eyes on me before returning to her work.

My hands skimmed the books stacked in the book shelves, and time ticked by painfully slow as I took Alpha Nolan's younger brother's advice and stayed inside the room. It had been over two hours since I slept and woke up on the white and gold bed, so I decided to take a look at all the books that were in the book shelves. The writing on the spines were mostly fading away, gathering dust as they had no use for the people who lived here. I admired some of the old classics and new books as my eyes wandered over every title. I had gathered a stack of books in my hand, picking the ones I wanted to read and taking them out. So far I had five books which were classics that I knew would peak my inter

Emma said, walking deep into the living room. "Thanks." She walked to a set of shelves on the far side of the room, running her fingers over the spines of his books. A lot of them were classics, novels by Dickens, Voltaire, Dumas, Melville, and Hemingway. She smiled when her fingers ran over the spine of not one, but three copies of Mitchell's Gone with the Wind. There were modern novels, too, including Stephen King and Sidney Sheldon, but they didn't look as well read as some of the others.

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.