Deeper And Deeper Book Novels & Stories

"Yes. There are parts missing." "True. Recently, I found a book that might help us with that matter." "Let's find it." "A red covered book with golden inlays." "I found it." "You have a sharp eye. All the books in this section are the same." "Let's start. There is a free table." Surrounded by rays of candles, the two friends started reading the dusty, old tome. The first one started:

It was like heaven had also become much, much closer. “Giovanni,” I cried, his name again aching my back, making him slide deeper into my throbbing pussycat. Giovanni’s hands moved under my body, clasping the cheeks of my bottom as he angled his thrusts. This time, he went so much deeper into me, and with every plunge of his length, it would rub against the sensitive nub of my flesh, making me gasp. I had thought that there would be no greater pleasure than what his thrusts were already giving me, but this—

The sound of a page flipping echoed in the quiet room—the book was old but well-kept, as though it had been passed down through generations. Another minute passed before the hand turned the final page. A deep chuckle escaped the reader's lips as he slowly shut the book. The chuckle grew, turning into laughter, louder with each passing second. The deep sound resonated through the room, laced with venom. "It's been a while since I truly enjoyed a book," came the deep voice, followed by the soft thud of the book closing.

Authors Note: The Human is book number one. The New Age King is book number two. I highly suggest reading book one before reading the sequel, but if you don't want to you can manage the second without doing so. The one big thing in the first book was Goddess Selene's curse. She cursed all lycans to be born in wolf form. Their first shift wasn't until the age of ten. Thank you so much for reading. "Please, Selene, slow down. Where are we going," I ask as the Goddess in front of me practically sprints down the wide corridor?

"You didn't just bring us a blank book, did you? You brought us the Casting Bed." The stranger smiled—a small, bittersweet curve of his lips that looked entirely too much like my father’s face when an audit went according to plan. "A book cannot exist without an imprint, Sovereign. You refused the Spire, you refused the Fourteenth Seat, and you burned the Third Party. You’ve defaulted on every landlord the system has to offer. But the ink has to go somewhere. If it doesn't stay on the page, it fills the harbor." The Strategy of the Deep Margin

As she’s about to leave the room, someone called. “Hey, I’m leaving the hotel. My car service is waiting,” she talked to the person on the other line. “I can’t wait to see you here. We’ve so much to see and talk about,” Noah said. Cela gave her room one final look. This is the place where she leaves her old self. “We wanted to go to a specific place and it didn’t matter if the road was rough and the journey was long. In the end, we found different places for ourselves but these places were the destinations where we were truly meant to go,” she said to herself. The fourth book begins at chapter 1 in Paris. The End.

The Geography of the Deep-Data Ethan’s boots hit the silt with a "Muffled" thud that vibrated through his entire "Strong Frame." The ground here wasn't sand; it was a "Labyrinth" of volcanic glass and tectonic debris, illuminated by the hellish orange glow of the "Sovereign" geothermal tap. The structure loomed over him like a cathedral of "Gilded" industry, its pipes pulsing with the lifeblood of the "Sovereign Nodes."

The roots deepening. The water still. Rising still. Always. The second autumn. Better prepared than the first. More deeply rooted. Still becoming. Never finished. Always becoming. Real.

He went past the garden and followed the familiar path into the woods. Leaves crumpled under his heavy steps as his long strides led him deeper into the woods. Finding himself standing in the middle of the woods, he sighed. Taking a look around the open space of greenery, he proceeded to take his coat off. Folding it neatly, he dropped it on a stomp he found seated by his left.

(HOLDER OF FLAME) “DEEP, DEEP, DEEP, I AM IN-DEPTH.” Humming an unfamiliar melody that is neither dread nor a pleasant one, but falls in the middle of those two words with the harmony like no other, yet perhaps cursing, or more like praising someone. She looks at the pile of books in front of her and the markings, symbols, and sketches that she drew and made on top of the table. Wherein she giggles drawing a Cheshire smile at the end, as she whispers.