Ex Libris: Confessions Of A Common Reader Novels & Stories

I cough when it raises a puff of dust into the air on its way. “I gave you all the ones with more pictures,” Roger murmurs, closing his book and reaching for his next as well. “Wanted to make it easy on you.” My mouth drops open in a little outrage at his implication there but then I see the upturned corner of his lip. “Liar,” I say, smiling down at my book as I open the cover. The title page reads A Complete History of the Cults of the Dark God, 1862. “You just didn’t want to get your hands and clothes dusty touching all these old ones.” Passively, I gesture to my clothes – which are indeed covered in a light layer of grey library dust.

[This idiot Melissa still isn't rushing to save the finance director—she's actually believing Andy's lies! [If anything happens to the finance director, McKinnon Group is truly beyond saving!] [Such a good man, and he still ended up being killed by Andy!] [Melissa is unbelievably foolish—of all people, she chooses to trust Andy!] Instinctively, I turned my head and met Chelsea's hate-filled gaze. A cold laugh echoed in my heart as I spoke first, "Chelsea, you look so distracted. Something on your mind?" She stiffened, then quickly coughed to cover her panic.

The quiet librarian? The proxy bride? The girl who bleached her soul to save a library?

“You were my last resort, Lucian. I-I was rooting for you. I told myself that you are the only one who cares for me, but I just disappointed myself again. You are all liars.” “Sam… Sammy, please!” He attempted to chase me, but I glared at him. “I'm so done with men fooling me, Lucian. Goodbye.” “Samantha! Sam!” I lifted my chin as I walk along the hallway. I wiped my tears using my fingers and swallowed hard, trying to calm myself. I can only trust myself for now. I don't need those liars in my life. I am Samantha Miller, and I can get through this another series of hellhole. I'm confident that I can heal myself… on my own. ~

I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, my hips rolling off the hard bench. "It feels so good, Father Edmund," I gasped out, panting as I kept my eyes locked on his shadow through the screen. "I’m fingering myself right in front of you. Come on, tell me I'm going to hell. Tell me I'm a sinner while you listen to me fuck myself like a dirty little whore I am." The booth rattled violently, making me jump. A loud bang echoed through the small space as he slammed his door shut, leaving the confession booth.

Louis suddenly called out, stopping me. He held out his hand to me, his tone condescending. "Hand over all the client files you have, as well as that multi-billion-dollar project you're currently working on. "These are company secrets. If you take them with you, it's illegal." I replied coldly, "All the files are on my computer. As for that collaborative project..." I looked down at the shredded documents on the floor and pointed at Flora. "She just tore it all to pieces." Hearing this, Flora immediately averted her eyes and leaned coyly into Louis's embrace, pouting.

I’m a whore. A dirty little whore… I crave to be spanked, spat on, fucked like a slut, and left dripping with cum from my face to my boobs. But nobody knows that…Not my best friend or my parents. And certainly not my goody two shoes fiancé, who's currently staring at me with a wide grin on his face. “Liv” I heard him mutter, snapping me back to reality. “I’m sorry, what?” I blurted out, my face flushed with embarrassment at the kind of thoughts I was having , especially in a place like this.

"Mom, Clara sold our company secrets and still dares to join the contest." She pulled out a magazine, pointing to the rival's early spring collection. The designs were identical to mine. Ruth, who valued the company above everything else, panicked upon seeing this.

She was just like the old me, wasn't she? No matter how coldly she had been treated, she would still run after him like a hopeful puppy. The only difference was that I had confessed to him 143 times over the course of five years. As I carried my belongings into the cab, I received a text message from Aldric. "Let's have your 144th declaration tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you with the decorated car." I laughed before removing my SIM card and tossing it away. My luggage had been packed, and a one-way ticket to Eastmere had been booked.

"Because you're afraid. You're afraid that if I stay 'Real,' I’ll start writing for myself. I’ll stop being a 'Billionaire Romance' and start being a Life." ​The Siege of the Archive: The Defense of the Memory ​Suddenly, the ivory pillars of the Council Chamber began to shake. A projection appeared in the air—a window into the "Special Collections" of Christina’s library. ​Nora saw Julian Graves. He was sitting on the floor of the library, holding Leo. They were surrounded by the 180 volumes of their own history. Julian was running his hand over the spine of 'Chapter 142: The Asylum', his eyes filled with a terrifyingly lucid pain.