Dork Diaries Book 2 Novels & Stories

Actually … they turned out to take quite a long time. First game they wanted to play was hide and seek. And he didn’t know Dany’s house that well. So it took him twenty minutes to find Sawyer and Christian. Who were stuffed into a trunk she kept at the end of her bed that had quilts in it. Then they wanted Dany to find them… and Quinn. So he had to hide with them. This time they wanted to go into her closet and behind her clothes. That wasn’t the least bit awkward.

But relaxation wasn't what I had in mind. I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, running my fingers along the spines of the books until I found what I was looking for. The worn leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands as I carried it over to the coffee table and opened it to the marked page. The intricate illustrations of whips, chains, and other BDSM paraphernalia made my pulse quicken with anticipation.

#Dorothy’s POV# The paper-and-dust smell hits me first and I swear I can still taste him on my tongue; the door chime sings and my chest does a weird flutter like I'm both shy and greedy at the same time. My mind is still on the kitchen and my husband’s mouth and how I almost forgot how to breathe. It's stupid and sweet. I'm walking into a bookstore like I'm coming up for air. So I stand there at the mat, pressing my palm to my belly because I like feeling grounded like that. I tell myself to be normal for five minutes, to just be a person who buys tea and listens to people read, and not someone who survived a marriage contract, a diagnosis, and a city’s gossip machine with my name in its mo

"But how sure are you not to doubt my story anymore?" "Remember the night you came here with me? At first, I was really hating all about you! But then, you remain intact and that make me doubt about my so called hate about you and even the email too!" "I still don't get it?" "Well, I don't really hate you, I hate myself for being reckless then and didn't even bother to see and check you when I can! Then about the email, I noticed something strange. I let the Keller IT professionals to do some work on it. And they found out that somebody else used your account!"

This was a problem. I slowly rolled off my desk and went to the sink to cleanse myself of as much of the telltale signs of sex as I could before I put myself back together. As I fastened my bra, my eyes caught sight of the books that Max had shoved out of his way. There was one lying open and displaying a drawing of a werewolf. I walked back to my desk and looked down at the book as it rested, face up, on the floor. Was someone trying to tell me something?

I reach into my hair for my pencil, pull out one long, loose curl that falls down against my neck. “Well, if you don’t need anything…”I begin to say. “Wait.”He stammers fidgeting a little bit, well I guess his friends had finally let him on the know. “Yes?” He lowers his eyes and picks up a book from the counter in front of me. It’s"Wet Dreams" by Josie frank. The boy’s palm covers the illustration on the front cover. He flips the book sideways and runs his finger down the spine. Now comes the break point. Will he ask, or will he leave here with only a book. The boy swallows. I can hear the sound as loud as if it was my own throat. He slides the book across the counter toward me. His fingers

He is cold, arrogant, and impossible to read. She paused, her mind drifting to the memory of "D." She traced the letters on the page. In her mind, the "Chairman" and her "D" were two different people. "D" was a hero, a boy who had stood in the dark with her. Damien Black was a cold, powerful man who lived in a skyscraper. To her, they were opposites. She flipped back to the very first pages of the diary. She touched the shaky handwriting of her ten-year-old self. She read about the red heels, the spider, and the boy who gave her the candy.

I muttered as I ran toward my chambers, driven by a strange pull, a gut feeling that something was there waiting for me. In my room, I scanned my surroundings, something drawing me to a concealed compartment behind my bookshelf. I opened it, finding a small, worn book—a diary. My heart sank as I opened it, the words inside telling a dark, familiar story. This wasn’t just any diary; this was Luna Nora’s collection of secrets, a meticulous record of every vile act, every betrayal. The curses, the deaths, the machinations that had torn my family apart—it was all here.

|•| DESIRÉE DOYLE |•| I flipped onto the next page of the book in my hands, curling into a ball underneath the covers, shoving Doritos aggressively into my mouth while I thinned out the rest of the world, completely immersed in the book. It was funny how I had read two books today and was on my third.

I watch it get beaten up by the wall, screaming for help and all I can do is stare. “What is wrong with you? That book cost a huge set of numbers, which I pulled out of Sebastian’s wallet.” She ignores what I say and throws a different book on my lap, spiking up my attention in seconds. “Is this ‘Torture Statics’ volume two?” Grinning, I turn to the pages only to see my devil doodle staring straight at me. “This was my last minute diary.” I throw it back in her direction and she barely catches it. “I don’t want it anymore,” I push myself into the covers and lay myself on the pillow, and I feel her drop it by the side of my pillow.