First Edition Of Wuthering Heights Novels & Stories

"Lydia. Come here." Quickly, I walked over there and found him crouched near the bottom shelf. He was holding a thick hardcover with careful hands while staring at it. "You found a gem?" I asked. His face looked the way a child's face looks on a good morning when he raised it. The glint in his eyes was infectious. "Frank Lloyd Wright," he said, raising the book for me to see properly. My eyes widened. "This is the first edition. Look at the spine on this thing," he gestured.

I choked out in complete shock. "Do you like it?" Ethan's expression was hesitant and I realized he might have struggled over this gift, unsure about whether or not I'd enjoy it. An early edition Keats had to cost a fortune, and this one was an early edition. Bound in green leather and still bearing faint gold embossed lettering on the spine, it was a work of art to me.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a book. A rare first edition of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, its leather-bound cover delicate yet immaculate. She gasped, her fingers brushing over the gilt lettering. Nestled beside it was a small, cream-colored card. She picked it up, her breath catching as she read the elegant script: “For a literature enthusiast. —N.B.”

The spine was faded but I could still read it, and when I read it I sat very still on the edge of the bed and read it again. It was my favorite novel. Not a new copy, not a nice edition. The original publication. A first edition, the year it was first printed, and I knew enough about books to understand what I was holding and roughly what it meant in terms of — everything. In terms of effort and intention and the specific kind of attention required to find something like this. My hands were not entirely steady.