Gifted Book Novels & Stories

The lights outside had softened into a dusky lavender, and guests formed a quiet line to take turns placing gifts and handwritten letters into the cradle. There were knitted blankets in soft pastels. Tiny booties embroidered with elephants. A framed sonogram turned into digital art by one of Danelle’s friends. A custom bilingual storybook—written in both Hindi and English—called "The Lioness and Her Cub," gifted by Anushka’s from the colony. One aunt offered a silver rattle said to be blessed by a temple priest in Chennai. There were little onesies, too—one read “Born to Rule the Boardroom” and another “Mommy’s Favorite Project.”

I said as we finally reached the aisle where the second hand books were kept. “You know, for someone so young you really know a lot of this stuff,” he said and I just smiled. There was nothing in reply that I could actually say to him. I took out a volume and gave him. It was in pristine condition except the name of the child and the year which it was gifted. It was one of the fairy tales which were actually good and did not have anything negative in them. Just like he wanted. I recalled that I still had no clue about his name. I could not ask him straight forward or introduce myself, it was going to be helluva awkward so I could do only one thing.

G for my books at author_gupta Thankyou ♡

My breath caught. That lion fights the monsters in the walls and the despair that tries to seep in through the cracks in the ceiling." I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt the tear land on the folder. Ms. Beck quietly handed me a tissue. "I know we don't typically do this until parent-teacher conferences, but your son is gifted. Not just smart, not just articulate. Gifted.". I couldn't find words, but they stuttered in my throat. "He's… he's always been like that," I managed finally. "Even when he was small. He'd ask me questions that had me Googling at midnight."

adds another guest. “Exceptional lung capacity and breath control for her age,” Killian analyzes proudly. “Lucky timing,” I counter. “Strategic execution combined with advanced motor control.” “Accidental success combined with proud parents.” “Same thing.” “Not even slightly the same thing.” The gift opening ceremony that follows resembles a small-scale version of Christmas morning at the White House. Educational toys from tech executives, handmade books from literary figures, art supplies from museum directors, and enough stuffed animals to populate a small zoo.

“Maisie, she put so much thought into that gift! How heartless can you be to ignore her like that?” “I seriously misjudged you. In that case, we won’t give you any gifts either.” Left with no choice, I said I appreciated both the gift and her intentions, but I was already wearing a necklace. Zoe’s eyes reddened. “The one I'm giving you is more expensive than that. Doesn’t it deserve a place around your neck?” Just then, Miles Gray's rough voice came from downstairs. “Maisie! C-Come down!” It was my brother.

Gifted, the mysterious healer whose name was more rumor than fact, was now reaching out to the Miller family this way, offering them the rare opportunity of healing in return for something personal. Gifted had always been known for their elusive nature and unconventional methods. Encounters with Gifted were rare, but those who caught Gifted’s attention were seen as incredibly lucky. The Miller family was incredibly lucky to have Gifted approach them. “Could that really be Gifted? Or is some impostor?" “Who can say? No one's ever laid eyes on Gifted or knows what he looks like." “If it really is Giftef, then the Millers just hit the motherlode. Trading a few family heirlooms for the chance at

ARIA. The chime of my phone pulled my attention away from the book Cleo had given me about gifted werewolves and how to harness those gifts. It was positively fascinating. Plus, I loved adding additional fun facts to my knowledge bank. My eyes were heavy from reading, but the sound snapped me back into focus.

The dinner table fell into a dead silence. “Sweetheart, come with me.” Mom led me to the backyard and pushed open the storage room door. In the corner were more than a dozen neatly stacked cases of the exact same whisky. Some were damp and moldy, others were covered in cobwebs. These were all the New Year’s gifts I had my husband, Kevin Zane, buy over the past three years. “W-What is this?” My voice came out dry. My throat was tight.

It dawned on me, as I paced around the quiet room with Lexi, that I perhaps I could use my sleeplessness for something productive and join my wife in her project of reading some of these parenting books… I selected one of the books – a large hardbound one that I’d be able to set down flat, since I only had one hand – and brought it over to Fi’s desk. I sat there, angling Lexi into the crook of my elbow. Admiring the tidy workspace, I tugged a gold chain to turn on the dim, caned glass desktop lamp. The book was, according to the cover, about raising gifted children. I noticed right away that there were several different spots bookmarked with small, lilac-colored sticky notes.