Cover Art The Great Gatsby Novels & Stories

But I knew some hill folk—especially a hoodoo man named Clive Hartley—who could read Latin, so I put it aside for later. I looked back into the box and of course, that’s when I found it. The book that’s caused all this trouble. The Way of Ah-Tzenul. Course, that’s not what’s printed on the cover. There’s a picture of some sorta tribal man squatting down with both hands raised to the sky etched into the cover and traced in silver. Otherwise, it’s a plain-looking book, all bound in pebbly black leather.

I ran to her and gave her a big hug. "Congrats again on the book launch. This party is phenomenal, and you look amazing! Whoever helped you picked out that dress is a genius," Elle pointed to my dress. I was wearing this crystal-studded dress similar to what Carey Mulligan wore in the 2013 Great Gatsby movie. "Why thank you. And you actually helped me picked out the dress, remember?" "Why then I must be a genius" she laughed and I rolled my eyes at her. Elle was stumbling with her steps. I had to catch her before she spilled her drink and made a mess.

the man said. He has a chuckle. "Perhaps that's why you find it attractive when I'm dressed in my grubby farm clothes; do you find it attractive when I smell like rotten milk?" He keeps tickling my stomach as I am covered with the blankets. "No, the crap part isn't my favorite, but it does something to me when I see you wearing that baseball cap while you're all sweaty and dirty." Oh, you're referring to this one, right? He says this as he pulls himself onto the side of the bed and reaches for his cap, which is sitting on a nearby chair.

The book she’d ended up with was a first edition of The Great Gatsby, its cover embossed with gold lettering. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t hers. And when she flipped to the inside cover, she saw the name scrawled in elegant cursive: Robin Nasir. The name sent a shiver down her spine. Robin Nasir was the golden boy of Coastal Field Royal, the rich kid everyone whispered about. He was the one girl from both the private and public schools dreamed of, the one with the smirk that could make hearts skip beats. Jasmine had never paid him much mind. Boys, in her experience, were trouble. Especially ones like Robin. Her sister, Nadine, was the opposite.

I tried to keep up, though half the names and scandals blurred together in a champagne haze. When we returned outside, another helicopter approached, cutting through the velvet night with deliberate lateness. Who would dare upstage Mr. Everhart? The blades slowed. The door opened and Sterling emerged. He looked devastating. Midnight tuxedo tailored within an inch of its life, black satin lapels catching the light. His white shirt was crisp, the collar sharp, undone just enough to hint at rebellion. A vintage pocket watch chain gleamed against his vest, and the diamond cufflinks on his wrists winked like secrets. His shoes shone, polished to a mirror finish. He was Gatsby reimagined, wealth w

I go into a living room next and pause to look around, finding more personal items decorating this room. There’s a framed black-and-white photo of him with Eliza. She’s smiling at the camera and Lucas just looks slightly amused. I can’t tell where they are, but judging by their clothes, this photo looks like it was taken either at a Great Gatsby-themed party or this photo is really that old.