Floating Bookstore Novels & Stories

On the very first day of college, I became Kingsley University's infamous jerk magnet. It didn't matter whether it was the polished upperclassman everyone adored or the rebellious campus bad boy; any guy who went on even one date with me would dump me the very next day for my roommate, Lucinda Lane. Lucinda quickly became the untouchable dream girl every elite guy was obsessed with, effortlessly managing her ever-growing roster of admirers. She'd hand me another carefully curated list of perfect dating prospects every single day. "Girl, don't be afraid of getting hurt. There's always a better one waiting. You have to be brave enough to chase true love." I believed her. So, I kept going after the next guy. This time, I had gotten a sweet younger student with puppy-dog charm. Then, he dumped me, too. For Lucinda. Just when I was at my lowest, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. "The heroine is incredible. She's stolen so many men already! I've hated that evil supporting girl forever. Why does some country bumpkin get to have all these guys falling for her?" "I wish I had the heroine's Affection Transfer System. That way, my ex wouldn't have been stolen by that woman." "I can't wait to see what the next male lead is like. I'm literally just sitting here and waiting for her to steal another man." That was when it finally clicked. I'd been working unpaid as stocking labor for her dating pool this whole time.

Aurelia had always hated the Thorne twins, and it was no secret. She hated the way they looked like she mattered only to pull the step siblings card… she hated the way they always had their stupid signature smirk on their faces whenever they pulled her leg… hated the way they knew how to pull the right strings to get her and most importantly hated the way, they acted like they weren’t watching that day, watching her as she climaxed alongside them. So no, she definitely didn’t watch them when they weren't looking and absolutely didn’t care who they were smiling at when it wasn’t her. Their friendly step- siblings rivalry had ended on her send off party and 20 year old birthday when she had confronted them and ended up in their bed… only to wake up to their leaked tape. They however did nothing but watch as her dignity was rubbed all over the ground. Five years later, she had moved on and built a perfect life with her 4 year old baby girl and her best friend from back home. Life was perfect until his proposal was interrupted by the Thorne brothers while she was on their cruise ship sailing to the city of her dreams to her dream vacation. It all happened in the blink of an eye and she had woken up to see that their ship was floating in the horizon, leaving them on an abandoned island with nothing but their clothes. Old hatreds ignite. Old secrets surface. And this time the twins aren’t just watching in secret like they had all these years. They’re here to finish what they started… this time they have no plan to let her GO…

“I was born incapable of love. My hands know only blood. My heart knows only ice. But for you… I would carve out a new soul, even if it kills me.” Alessio “Alec” Moretti rules his city like a god draped in shadow. Cold, ruthless, and untouched by emotion, he’s a mafia boss born from bloodlines and brutality. Psychopath, they whisper incapable of love, addicted only to control. No one defies him. Until Noa Hartmann spits in his face. Noa is everything Alessio doesn’t understand fiercely ,independent, maddeningly fearless, and completely uninterested in bowing to a monster. He’s just a university student working in a dusty bookstore café, trying to survive the same violence that killed his family. But one moment one public act of defiance and Alessio is obsessed. At first, it’s a game. Alessio wants to break him, tame him, make him kneel. But the closer he gets, the more the lines blur. Why does he want to protect Noa? Why does he feel anything at all? What begins as possession becomes something darker, deeper… and far more dangerous. Because monsters don’t love,they consume. And when the past reemerges in the form of a long-lost brother turned rival mafia boss one who blames Alessio’s family for the massacre of Noa’s everything explodes. Noa is caught between two devils: One who stole his life. One who wants to own his heart. With empires collapsing, secrets unraveling, and love bleeding into obsession, Noa and Alessio are forced to face the truth: Some monsters can love. But they will burn the world for it.

In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her. Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs. All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition. But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time. That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully. "Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead? "But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!" Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him." It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

Elara Nightingale has a secret—she can see everyone's emotions as colorful auras. Everyone except Cain Blackwood, the mysterious man who returns to their small coastal town after ten years away. When Cain's mother starts making threats about an upcoming event called "the Convergence," Elara discovers her quiet life running the family bookstore has been built on lies. Her parents weren't just booksellers—they were magical guardians protecting the town from a darkness that emerges every 93 years when the barrier between worlds thins. Now that darkness is returning, stronger than ever. And according to town librarian Mrs. Holloway, only Elara and Cain can stop it. As magical attacks force them into hiding, Elara and Cain must learn to control their complementary powers—her ability to see beyond normal perception and his power to create protective shields. Their families have been performing a ritual for generations that temporarily contains the darkness, but it comes with a terrible price: binding their life forces together permanently. Elara's parents died trying to find another way. Now she and Cain must finish what they started—a purification ritual using a mysterious crystal called the Lens. While training together in a remote cabin, their initial distrust turns to friendship, then to something deeper. But Cain's power-hungry mother is determined to perform the traditional ritual, even if it means killing Elara. As the Convergence approaches and strange phenomena plague the town, Elara and Cain must race to decipher hidden clues, navigate secret tunnels beneath the town, and prepare for a magical showdown in the chamber beneath the lighthouse. When the stars finally align, they'll face a choice: follow tradition and be bound forever by duty, or risk everything on a new path—one where they choose each other freely, transforming darkness into light through the most powerful magic of all.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

When I'm done putting my daughter, Alani Carter, to sleep, I suddenly come across a social media post. "My husband, who's always been uncaring about the household matters, suddenly decides to be more engaging and helpful recently. What's the reason behind his change in behavior?" The comments in that comment section cut to the chase immediately. "Oh, there's no doubt about the answer. Either he's having an affair behind your back, or he wants your money." As soon as I leave a like on the answer, my husband, Michael Carter, who has never cared about Alani before, suddenly asks me, "What sort of homework does Alani have today?" That's when I notice the parents' group chat on my phone, where Demi Miller's mother, Yvette Miller, has tagged Michael there abruptly. "Mr. Carter, what's tonight's homework?" He has responded to her immediately, "Give me a moment. I'll send you the list later." I glance at the time. It's already 10:30 pm. We've been married for so many years, and yet Michael has never responded to any of my WhatsApp messages on time before. I secretly tap on Yvette's profile picture, only to find out that her social media feed is filled with coincidental meetings with Michael. Apparently, she has met him coincidentally at the amusement park, at a bookstore, and even at a family restaurant the three of us have frequented. When I pick Alani up from the kindergarten in the next evening, I happen to overhear Yvette telling another parent, "Alani's dad sure has a heart of gold! He even helps me take care of Demi! "Whenever I ask him questions regarding Demi, he's able to answer me on the spot. Parents who care this much about children are a rarity these days!" I continue the topic smilingly, "Isn't that right? Michael has never attended a single parent-child meeting related to his own daughter, and yet he's quite skilled in helping others raise their children." After that, I find myself a secluded corner, where I dial my lawyer's phone number immediately. "Have you prepared the divorce contract? I want him to leave this marriage without a single cent to his name!"

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.