Frindle Book Cover Novels & Stories

This' where the meeting would be held. The small library at the wall is stocked with a few interesting books to use and pass some time. I pick up a book that attracts my attention, from a glimpse of it, I detect that it's a romance fantasy. The gold and red combination of the cover with the stylish golden fonts captivates me, the front has a young girl holding on her palms what looks like a magical spindle, with a glowing light around it. The title goes, "When you're alone." A subscript writes, "A supermodel story of the girl who single handedly achieves the most difficult goals."

It hit my shoulder before dropping to the floor. I barely felt the pain. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Perfect,” I muttered. “Just what I needed.” I almost ignored it. But something about that book caught my eye. It wasn’t like the others. The cover was deep red—so dark it looked almost like dried blood in the dim light. The edges were lined with gold that had faded with age. I frowned and bent down to pick it up. It felt heavier than it looked. When I turned it over, I noticed something strange.

"Mr Philip sent me to give this to you." "Thanks." I collected the book to inspect the front cover, while he showed off some dimples. The book had a raccoon as it's display photo. The raccoon looked thrilled to bits with both hands up and mouth open like it was shouting. The background was yellow, it had the words, 'furiosly happy' boldly written on it. Under the book title, there were word too that said, 'a funny book about terrible things' written in smaller font, while the author's name was Jenny Lawson.

"Will you read me a story?" She nods, forcing a smile. "If you want. Which story would you like?" "Don't know. Your favourite." "Alright." She opens the book. It is tattered and worn, the binding ready to fail. Some pages from the back are missing and all are yellowed, crisping at the edges. The cover, battered and scraped as it is, is bright, in brilliant jewelled colours; an image of a prince in fine silks and a beautiful girl, riding a flying carpet over a magical city.

She let Miss J open the lid, showing a leather bound book inside. "My, what is this?" Miss J asked curiously. The book floated out of the box, turning over this way and that as it was being inspected. The stitching on the cover hummed softly like power was building up within it. Willow felt Miss J attempting to open it, but to no avail. "I've never seen it before. The text on the cover doesn't make sense to me either." Willow informed her.

I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle another yawn. Despite being incredibly tired, I decide to jot down the recent events in my personal journal, my confidant that I made myself. The design is beautiful, the cover is a velvety hardcover with an image of a butterfly, in gradient colors of pink, blue, and yellow. The journal is completely covered, giving it the appearance of a small bag with a zipper. I end up falling asleep, and as I shift to my side, the journal slips from my lap.

She had to be careful with it in case the pages shattered on contact with her skin. She set the book down carefully on the floor and wiped the dust from the front. Immediately, she jumped in shock. There, on the cover, was the same image she’d seen on her grandma’s leather box, and in the Voynich manuscript. Only this time the strange face on the front of the book wasn’t so surreal—it was as clear as day. It was an image of Scarlet’s face.

"Take a look." The book was covered in heavy, embossed leather and in the center, in script, was the letter K. What the hell was this? A scrapbook? What kind of scrapbook could Dusty have been keeping? He continued eating in silence, preparing himself for whatever he was going to see, while Marliss and Lou gave him what he called the deadeye stare. Finally, he pushed his plate away, wiped his mouth, and opened the book.

Didn't she hide it properly? This diary was a mighty one, big and heavy. The cover was lilac, decorated with drawings of hearts and sparkles. The spine had been cracked over and over again, and the pages were unable to lay flat because of how many times they had been written inside. But it was mostly still intact. It was so big that I wondered when I would even complete the reading, it surely won't be today.