Cut It Off Book Novels & Stories

You may also visit my page on F******k: Ezckapel, and message me there directly. This book should contain at least nine seasons, but I cut it off to six seasons because my health is not quite good for the past months. My apologies for not giving the whole package. When I have time and my health is not disrupting my writing. Then, I will separate books because the other season that I cut off was the same when you read the part of Kofi getting transferred being Kelly and having a separate story with Ash. So it's kind of independent that's why I didn't add them.

It is OPTIONAL to unlock or read it, it wouldn't affect your knowledge on this book because this book has ended. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I will drop it, by this time tomorrow.

I picked it up, wondering where it fell from; it seemed to have been somewhere on the table. I was right; the page had been cut off from a book and not very neatly; it was like it had been done in a hurry. The other part was missing, but the heading "The Last Lykaina" was boldly written on the top part of the page. I quickly picked up a pen, transferring all the words from the paper to the rough sheet... I heard his footsteps approaching, and so I was quick to stack the piece of paper beneath my clothes before returning the main copy to where I suspected it should have fell from.

I interrupted. Her cheeks went red, and her eyes brightened. With a groan, I shook my head. My wolf was growling at me even before I said, “It’s not worth crying over.” The book blew up. Every page lit on fire as it burst outward, flying in every direction. A chunk of the flaming spine hit me square in my chest. I batted it away, yelping in shock. There was a slight burn where it’d hit me, but nothing bad. I stomped out the flames and made my way to the other bits of burning paper, putting out the fires.

She stops. "What?" She turns the journal toward me. Most of the handwritten pages are intact. Carefully dated and neatly organized. Then, halfway through the journal, one sheet is gone. Not torn, not fallen out. The paper has been cut away so precisely that only a thin strip remains attached to the spine. Camila slowly runs her fingertip along the clean edge. Her voice is barely above a whisper. "This wasn't damaged." I stare at the empty space where Sophia's words should have been.

The blade was meant to cut through margins to remove paragraph blocks from a living author's physical form. Julian did not answer with words. He lunged across the rug, his dark coat billowing like a shadow. His left hand slammed against the side of the bookshelf. With a grunt he pushed the unit two inches to the right. The wood groaned, a deep splintering shriek of pegs under sudden stress. The narrow gap between the shelves snapped shut like a vice clamping down on the intruder's wrist.

Two torn edges protruded from its binding where the missing pages should have been. Chrissy examined them more closely. “These weren’t lost.” “I know.” “No, look.” She angled the book toward me. The paper had been cut almost perfectly along the binding, leaving only a few narrow fibers behind. “Someone used a blade,” she said. “They wanted those pages specifically.” I glanced toward the circulation desk. “Would the library know who had it?” “For a newer book, yes. For something this old, we might be looking for a stone tablet and a chisel.”

Shutting my eyes, I took the knife Miguel passed me and cut myself. Slowly and carefully, I placed my cut directly on the flower. When I did that, the lights in the room went off immediately. "What is going on?" I was startled and almost took my hand off the book. "Don't take it off!" Miguel stopped me by pressing my hand harder onto the flower. When he did that, I felt something surge through me. I couldn't quite explain it but I know I could feel it. In the next second, the lights came back on and Miguel took my hand away from the book.

"We just gave it a body." [END OF BOOK 1 ARC]

Instead of using a lock an organic substance that resembled thin hardened vines or entwined prickly twigs wrapped around the cover and held it closed. They appeared to have a slight nearly living pulse. I scowled curious. What sort of book was this and why was it bound this way? I tugged harder my fingers grazing the rough intricate surface as I attempted to untangle the odd binding. Then a piercing burning pain. I let out a gasp. I looked down at my finger as I flinched away dropping the book with a loud thump. My skin had a thin deep line that was already crimson and dripping blood. With a sharp hiss of pain I muttered a curse. I had been deeply and sharply cut by the binding.