Clean Book Novels & Stories

Porter answered. “Jackpot.” Jakes voice sounded. “What you got?” He held his hand up above the counter with a fist full of sealed hypodermic needles and I smiled. We were going to be the medical departments new best friends. They had been sterilising and re using needles for the last year or so and it was the bane of their existence, or so they moaned at every available opportunity. “I got a cupboard full of blue paper towels over here, what you think?” “I would leave them. There are six other labs yet.” Bubble said, coming back into the room, “and I found more trolleys” he stated bringing another two into the room before leaving again.

Kindly review my book and vote with gems to get it in rsnkings. Thank you so much for reading my book, Next update will come so soon.

I walked into the inner part of the book shop and excused myself after I belched. “This one is Six Thousand Naira”. “If you interrupt mw again, you won’t like what I’ll do to you…” The shopkeeper saw my countenance and left me alone, before going to fetch cellophane bag. He picked up the 2009 Guinness Book of World Records and bagged it, and waited patiently for me to pick another book. I soon picked The Family by Mario Puzo and Carol Gino. I was handing the novel to the shopkeeper, who was already with a calculator, when I saw it. It was a dark hardcover book, with pink and dark designs. I smiled broadly and extracted it from the shelf with both hands.

The doors creaked as she pushed them open, revealing what lay inside. The cabinet was filled with papers, old books, and trinkets, the remnants of a past long forgotten. Bliss ran her fingers over the contents, her heart racing with each new discovery. Among the books, she found a leather-bound journal, its pages yellowed with age. The title, written in faded gold lettering, read Blackwood Family History. She pulled it out and opened it, her hands trembling with anticipation.

Move your bag. “No.”

He said. The book was glowing, a red light emanating from the inscriptions. A part of the book had a drawing, a crucifix in the middle, which the illuminated ray concentrated on. "Emily, we have to leave." Dad grabbed my hand, beads of sweat settling on his face. His heart was beating faster than the average person’s, his eyes reflecting the red light from the book. "I can't stand." I cried. "Not now," he reached for my back, pulling the fragments out of my vitals. I screamed, hitting the book continuously as I rolled with the immense pain.

The study was dark, so I opened the blinds and took in the room. It was very... August. Brown. Black. More black. Not a single color brave enough to survive in here. There was a minibar. I wasn't surprised to find it stocked mostly with expensive whiskey. The bookshelf took up almost an entire wall. Business books. Finance books. Leadership books. Books about making money. Books about keeping money. Books about probably becoming even more unbearable than he already was. Not one novel. Not even a guilty pleasure romance. What a sad life.

She cut herself and held out her hand in the air, so the blood dropped into the sacred bowl. " Hold your hands together so the cuts meet," he said. I turned and faced her, her pretty face was a charm on its own and I found myself struggling to concentrate. I stretched out my hands to her, she did the same and placed her cut palm on mine. A spark was felt and I knew she felt it as well. The fire began to burn so well. Our wolves began to collide and I was struggling to breathe. It seemed the two wolves were trying to become one and we were the ones being affected by it.

My fingers hovered over spines until I found what I wanted: a thick book bound in dark leather, the title stamped in faded gold. WOLF TRADITIONS & BONDS: A GUIDE FOR COUNCIL AND HOUSEHOLDS I lifted it off the shelf and stared at it for a full five seconds, because no part of me enjoyed the fact that this existed like it was a homeowner’s association handbook. I set it on the table and opened it. The first page had a handwritten warning in neat block script: THIS TEXT IS FOR PACK USE. DO NOT REMOVE FROM LIBRARY. Beneath it, someone had scribbled, smaller:

Hell, maybe he could even get his own spinoff. Leah flitted off to work with an extra cinnamon roll, and I was left alone in the apartment. It was still morning yet, so I had time to kill. I elected to curl up on the couch with one of the lycan books Blair sent with me. It was unusual to get a book from Blair that was not old, leather bound, and smelled of dust and aged paper. This one was the most interesting by far because it was a paperback that looked to be written within the past decade or so. It looked too… normal. It had a publishing date and everything.