Classic Books You Have To Read Novels & Stories

I struggled to choose what book to read to him, since it occurred to me, belatedly, that I have no idea what my Master reads for pleasure. I try to choose something classic instead, something appropriate; but ´Wuthering Heights´, with Cathy, Heathcliff and Edgar, and their doomed love triangle, isn´t right. Neither is ´Gone with the Wind´, with Scarlett, Rhett and Ashley. ´Pride and Prejudice´, ´Jane Eyre´, ´Anna Karenina´, all dwell on the failure of three lovers to make their situation work. In the end, I choose something very different, ´Time Enough for Love´, an old 1970´s Sci-fi novel, in which the characters make their polyamorous family work.

He asked questions—not the shallow kind Damon’s associates had used to make polite conversation, but real questions. “What’s your favorite book?” he asked at one point, leaning close to be heard over the music. She blinked, startled. “My book?” He smiled faintly. “Yeah. Everyone’s got one. The one they can read again and again and never get tired of.” Mya hesitated, then admitted, “Wuthering Heights. It’s… tragic and messy, but there’s something about the passion in it. The kind that consumes people.” Keith nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. Mine’s The Count of Monte Cristo. Revenge, redemption, justice—it’s a story that makes you think about what really matters when you lose everything.”

Now, she wished she had, as she could have used his advice on how to handle the older man. After a few seconds, she realized she had remained silent too long, and Mr. Warren could misinterpret her quietness. “I actually like to read several genres,” she said in a rush, hoping to distract him from asking her out again. Or, at least, prolong it until she could think of an answer. “I don’t really have a favorite author. How about you?” “Oh, I’m a classics man, myself,” he told her. “I enjoy Hemingway, Hawthorne, Verne. Have you read any of them?”

I just roll my eyes and he continues, “But thanks to that, my eyes fell on this poor soul who is trying to find a book for English class to do her essay on, you have to hear their assignment, it’s so interesting. I am so eager for our English class; they have so many cool assignments like these. So apparently you have to find a story from the classics, like duh, you have to. I mean that’s why they are called classic.”

I need to take time. I remember the small room I entered last time. I slowly opened the door and turned on the lampshade. The books on the table were still scattered. I tried to look and read each one of them. These are all interesting books. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a lot more. I tried to find something that might help me, but I found nothing.

"Exquisite." "Are you sure you don't mean superb?" "Meritorious might work better." "You got that from Stephen King?" "I have no idea where it came from. What do you like to read?" "The classics-fiction, non-fiction, the phonebook." God she was perfect. "You read everything, I take it?" "Just about. There's a thrift store down the street and every now and then I find an oldie but goody for a quarter."

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.

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

"Well, I've seen many of the classics. Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Cervantes. The novel section is divided into time periods. For some reason though, Dickens is missing and he's one of my favorites." "That's intentional. I hoarded them up for myself. It's in the library but it's hidden, "He said with a wicked smile. "That's not fair, I need to see it," I said, grumbling. "Alright, I'll show you. Let's go see it" He said with a chuckle. "Now?," I asked surprised. "Yes now, or are you doing anything else at the moment" "No, I'll be glad to do that" I said with excitement.

If he can see every move I make, how will I ever make a move against him? During my rampage of a small bookshelf on the wall next to the bed, I find classic books such as, The Catcher in the Rye, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and so on. Spotting amongst the classics a leather bound book with no title or author. I slowly open it and inside handwritten pages are revealed. May 12th 1998