Classic Novel Reading List Novels & Stories

I’ve lived my life, protecting myself from the world, from disappointment, betrayal and lies, but with her, I began to bring down those walls until I didn’t even know when my feelings developed into so much more without even seeing a glimpse of her. I skim over her collection, Motorcycle Club, Mafia... Disney Villain tales… and then there are the classics that she accidentally slipped out that she reads before denying she read them. I crouch down. They may be at the bottom, but the books have been read and I can’t help but smile. Jane Eyre, Anne of Green Gables, Pride and Prejudice, The Thirteenth Tale… Smiling, I take out the first book in the Anne of Green Gables collection, remembering ho

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?”

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

I am aware that he is like looking at my face for a long time and is keep on glancing at me. “Ahmmnn a book entitled Wuthering Heights by Emily Bonte, Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens, and hemmnn Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.” I said as I look into the books there. “I see, those are rare books now since they are old and people nowadays don’t like sad and pure narration stories.” Henry said and I just nod. Henry is now helping me through the pile of books. It was almost 30 minutes yet we haven’t found one of the 3 books.

I looked around the large library on the fifteenth floor of the office. Two years I worked here, I never visited the library because of course work is more important. Besides being used as a display, this library is usually used for programmers who want to work in peace. If Big Man's secretary hadn't taken Rhysand and me to the library, I might have been the only employee who had never visited this room. I love reading. Reading novels. The first novel I read was by Louisa May Alcott; Little Woman, and then moved on to other feminist novels such as Handmaid's Tale and Pride and Prejudice—the book I'm holding right now.

I ignored them and walked on by. Turning the corner, I strode to the library’s double doors across from the staircase without running into another soul. I was in desperate need of distraction. Books to the rescue. The library flared to life as I entered. Wall sconces lit, and the hearth awoke. I replaced the books I’d borrowed to their empty spots, then moved to a different section. Scanning the titles, I found and pulled out a couple of classics I’d been meaning to read forever. The first was The Three Musketeers, and the other was Pride and Prejudice. I hoped at least one of them held my attention enough to get lost in.

I pushed it open wider. The room was cool and dark, shelves towering like silent guardians. I flicked on one small switch on the wall, and amber lights pooled across the entire room and over the shelves. My eyes ran through the sections—romance section, classics and thrillers. I ran my fingers along the spines, looking for something thick, something to lose myself in until sleep finally came. I saw a first-edition Jane Austen. A modern dark romance with a brooding cover. It was a fantasy series Mirabel had raved about.

Everything from classic literature to contemporary fiction to business texts and philosophy. "Find something you like?" Alex's voice came from the doorway, and I turned to find him watching me with soft eyes. "This room is incredible," I said. "Have you read all of these?" "Most of them. Some are Nick's. We've been collecting since college." He moved into the room, standing close enough that I could feel his warmth. "You're welcome to any of them. Or we can get you new ones, if you prefer." "No, these are perfect." I pulled out a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. "This was my favorite when I was younger."

Already much more soothing than sad songs and the sound of explosions. Tall shelves lined the walls, crammed with books. Of course this man had a library that looked like it belonged in an interior magazine spread. A low chandelier hung in the middle of the room above a long solid wood table, a few chairs, one couch in the corner with a folded throw. I walked along the first shelf, letting my fingertips brush the spines. Gold lettering, embossed titles, lettering already faded. The first row was full of classics. Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Dumas. Of course Zane owned a collection of depressed men who liked to write about sin and consequences. Fitting.

"Tell me now dear, what books do you enjoy reading?" Roxanne was surprised that the woman was being so calm and nice to her. The questions were asked out of genuine curiosity, not the dire need to humiliate her. All eyes were still on Roxanne as she answered, but she suddenly didn't feel so self aware anymore. There was a warm feeling that the woman's smile gave her, and Roxanne appreciated it. "Mostly classical literature and crime thrillers." Eloise appluaded her, a satisfied look glittered in her grey eyes.