Foto De Libros Novels & Stories

It was heaven on earth, with the soft glow of the lamps and the smell of books, new and old, "how do you ever get out of this room." Not turning to Leo, I walked right up to the book shelves, letting my fingers skim across the titles as I leisurely walked along the library. The collection of books was expansive, almost every genre in fiction and non fiction; iographies, self-development, science fiction and even romance. 1 Turning around, Leo was gazing at me with soft eyes as he leaned on the edge of a desk I hadn't noticed near the glass wall, his long legs stretched in front of him. I walked up to him with a smile, he immediately pulled me between his legs, his hands resting lightly on my

She let them be. As she went to the deeper into the library room, the more students she noticed hanging around the corner. ‘Maybe those spots are the best for reading quietly.’ She thought and continued finding that one shelf. Finding the bookshelf and pulling one of the books to read, she noticed someone— or something. To be precise, it was a picture of someone, stuck between two books and it slightly revealed itself when Hestia pulled a book. “A picture?” Hestia whispered to herself and pulled the picture. It was a picture of Freya, but much younger if compared to the pictures she received a while ago.

But the library door had been ajar, waiting for her. It smelled of dust and cedar and the faintest trace of tobacco. The fire had been lit already, roaring with cracks of hollowness. She sipped her wine and let her eyes drift toward the far corner, where a large wooden desk sat beneath a leaded glass window. Papers were stacked neatly beside an open book and, just off to the right, a photograph turned facedown. Sloane hesitated. Then crossed the room. The photo frame was silver and slightly tarnished, the kind that belonged to someone who valued history over polish. She turned it over.

The windows faced the gardens, and the morning light was golden and warm and poured across the reading chairs like honey. She ran her fingers along the spines. Classics, histories, business books that probably belonged to Alexander. Nothing that looked even remotely interesting. “Where do they keep the fun books?” She moved to a different shelf where the light didn't quite reach. There were older volumes here—paperbacks mixed with hardcovers, spines cracked from actual use instead of just decoration. “This is more like it.” She crouched down, scanning titles. A thriller, a mystery and finally a romance with a cover so embarrassingly dramatic she almost laughed out loud. She reached for it an

“Oops.” Grinning sheepishly, I tried another one. This time, it smoothly rolled out, revealing three big black books with hardcovers. I picked one up, turning it to the sides for closer inspection. When a colored square paper slipped out of it, I realized it wasn’t just any book but a photo album. Picking the paper from the floor, I suppressed a gasp. Finding a photo album of anything in Timur Yezhov’s housewasa big deal, especially when he had a photograph on the front page.

Kennedy POV. The weather was bad, but I needed to get that new book, it's Robert birthday gift, who'd knew a grown up man would kill for the newest werewolf love book. I got into my car, drove carefully toward the local book store, they had the new book reserved for me. It was supposed to one quick drive, until I walked into the library. A girl was sitting on a bean bag, her blond hair was covering her eyes with overgrown bangs, she tried to huff them away from her face but to no use. She looked young, maybe she's just here with her parents, looking down at the book she had in her hands it was a kids story. Does she read for the local kids? Or is it just for her?

He could only take a few steps here and there because it was filled with books. The library was dimly lit by the few rays of sunshine coming through a half open window and it was the only window in the room. There were shelves made of red wood filled tight with books. There were also books stacked on the floor. Everything was dusty and the placed smelled damp. As if it hadn't had a whiff of fresh air in years. Prince Ron wondered how the books didn't rot in such a place.

It was utterly breathtaking. After sitting and watching the view for a few moments, I decided to explore the books. My finger ran lazily along the moulded wooden shelves, reading the titles of the books to see if I recognized any. Many were antiques, some Italian and some English. There was a small section on cooking, a larger section on gardening and an even larger section on romance novels. I even found the karma sutra amongst what I can only classify as the ‘self help’ section, opening it and then quickly closing it in case Enzo or his mother entered the room.

Since I am a lover of books, I decide to go into the library. I’ll probably find something here to fill my boredom I walk through the library which is arranged in an orderly fashion of different genres and time periods. Nothing catches my attention except an old picture book that I find in the middle of the sections. It’s decorated like a book but underneath it’s an album. “This is probably invasion of privacy, I don’t think I should open this.” “I try to resist but my curiosity wins and I take the book to the living room with me.” “Let's see, I might find some old pictures here”

I looked like a slave myself. 'They must've searched all my pictures and taken the worst of all'. There was a reading table by the left, covered with open books. I walked closer and checked, they were criminal cases on murderers, amidst checking them one after the other, something fell. 'piiinnnnggg'. I rushed to pick it up immediatly.