Free Library New York Novels & Stories

I really needed to find some information out, anything that could help me conceal my abilities. Visions made my gifts heighten, which naturally put me on edge at the best of times. My gifts had been heighted to a new level lately. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the stress, lack of sleep or the constant beatings I had been receiving from Charles’s little army. But what-ever it was I had to get to the bottom of it. But how could I without drawing attention to myself. The only place where I would find any sort of information would be the old library. The old library had been around since the city was foundered in 1614. It was originally built as a place of worship. It was then converted into an

​The roar of New York City didn't sound like a city anymore; it sounded like an audience. ​Standing on the edge of the laboratory’s fire escape, the cold April air biting into her newly printed skin, Nora Davis looked down at the sea of humanity. Thousands of faces stared up at her—some holding smartphones, some holding signs, all of them illuminated by the flickering blue light of their own screens. They weren't just onlookers; they were the "Subscribers" who had funded her freedom.

Chloe said with amusement, "he could, I don't know, tell us something about his life in New York.” Everyone turned to see me intrigued, even Emma herself wanted me to blurt out something. "There aren't very interesting things to tell," I said to get out of the way. "Come on, you lived in New York, so you must have a lot to say about your experiences in the city," Callum said before taking a big sip of soda. "Libraries are one of the best things about it, from the public library to the Morgan Museum, they're beautiful places," I admitted, saying something true. “There I supplemented more about computers; I met many people who were looking for something and I became known for...”

“I didn’t know that!” He leads her down a pathway, shrubbery blocking her view as they getcloser, and then Lady Liberty rises before her. It was tiny compared to the original, but touching, nonetheless. Monica knows that seeing the one in the harbor when she first arrived in New York felt like a sign that she had arrived, that she was going to make it. In a bigger, broader way, it must have felt like that for immigrants arriving in America too. A symbol of freedom, of possibilities, of a future.

After hanging up, Dylan nudged the ten-dollar hand cream toward me. “Jenna, Bianca really needs this job. Her livelihood depends on her hands, so this is more urgent for her. Just use this tonight, and I’ll book you another manicure after I get paid next month, okay?” I stared at the cracks along my fingertips. Then, I remembered the words I had accidentally seen in his phone memo earlier that day. [Free pass for letting Bianca hurt Jenna: 1 remaining] [If Jenna ends the relationship first, all free passes will automatically reset.]

"Jason, your whole family is rotten! When Lily was assaulted back then, you traded away her justice for the investment in your company. Did you forget that?" Then, I pointed at a man in the crowd. "It was you! You assaulted Lily, then used money to buy Jason off. That's why you're still walking free!" Everyone immediately moved away from him while whispers surrounded all of us. "Jason built his fortune on her sister's suffering, then let his mistress kill her. That's almost demonic..." "I'm on Clara's side this time. I'll tell my dad to cancel every investment in their company." "Me too." Jason couldn't keep up appearances anymore as he shouted, "She's already dead! What else do you want?!"

The air in the New York Public Library press room was charged, not with the schadenfreude of scandal, but with the excitement of genuine mystery. The invitation itself had been cryptic, with only the image of a stylized ship's wheel merged with a drafting compass and the words: The Roberts-Jones Foundation: A New Horizon. No one knew what to expect. A mea culpa? A retirement statement? A final attempt at rescuing a reputation?

Studying and working in New York City opened my eyes to a homelessness, poverty, violence, but also an abundance of generousity, kindness, and compassion. I had lived in Northern New Jersey my entire life and gone into the Big Apple for Broadway shows and to see the Christmas lights, which I'm happy my parents could afford to do. But living and working there, taking the subway, trains, buses, and walking everywhere changed my perspective on life. My freshmen year at NYU, me and my room mate collected change from students in between classes. We recruited other students to help us and soon we had enough to create lunches and care-packages for the homeless on a weekly basis. And that was just w

Then a boisterous laugh filled the room. Irina pouted. Coughing, Nieal tried to stop the laugh. He coughed few times before he could speak again. “I’m sorry.” He said. “But, books for sale?” He chuckled. “Not in my town, glassy.” Still pouting, Irina didn’t say a word. That made Nieal coughed again to cover his laugh. “You know I will never allow that, right? Everyone in this town have free access to the books that they wanted to read—” He paused a second. Then emphasized. “—in the library.”

she explains, and I want to pinch my own arm. She is going to hate me. I should have just nodded along or asked her more about her school. "Really? Oh my gosh, I am a horrible person. I figured it was all lies to get money. I am so sorry. America has a huge homeless population, so I am not trying to say the United States is better or anything," I say to the sweet woman and Zuri shakes her head.