Going By The Book Novels & Stories

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 I was reading a book when I realized I hadn’t understood a single line. The book remained open on my lap. My eyes moved across the words, line after line, but nothing made sense. It was as if I was only passing over them… without truly absorbing anything. I let out a soft sigh. I turned the page anyway. Automatic. The room was silent.

The bond they’d forged in the Deep Pantry was slipping away, fading like smoke. June’s hand shot to her belt. The weight—gone. Her heart hammered. The Golden Book was dissolving, turning into a swirl of white mist. “No!” She tried to grab it, but her hands slid right through. “Not the recipes. Not the proof!” The Book vanished. Everything around her blurred. People started walking backward. Cars zipped by in reverse. The Auditor’s voice crashed down from the clouds, young and smug, like he’d just heard a good joke.

he shut his mouth up and looked at the fireplace that was burning. Beatrice walked to her room and towards the bed. Bending down the bed, she looked down only to see that the book was gone. Her brows knitted to a frown and she bent down again. The book was indeed gone. She was sure she had pushed it under the bed before leaving the room. How come the book was then?

Slowly but carefully, they both stalked toward the dead body which was laggardly turning into ashes. Dedari picked up the book which should contain no more than ten pages, seeing its smallish and thin size. "Won’t you open it?" Jacob asked, seeing Dedari hold the book tightly in his hand and disappear into mist. "I will when we get to the bus. Let’s get going already." Dedari said, watching as Jacob huffed before turning into mist too. Together, they moved very fast through air, toward the camping region where the bus which served as their tour house was located.

The girl said. “Same here. I actually thought that this book wasn’t popular but you’re reading it as well. Oh, I’m Kayne by the way, Kayne David.” “I’m Natsumi Koga, it’s nice to meet you!” “Ah yes, you as well. I was actually about to ask if you always come here.” Kayne asked. “Uhuh, I always go to this café every time I go to town, this is actually kind of my spot, haha.”

You can read the book for curiosity's sake but not reading the book will not disturb the flow of the story so enjoy ! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The library was quiet, the afternoon sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. Anna sat alone at the far corner, the mysterious book, The Reflection Game, spread open before her. Her finger traced the intricate designs on the yellowed pages, her heart pounding with both excitement and unease. The cryptic instructions whispered to her, their meaning elusive but tantalizingly close. She didn’t understand why she felt so drawn to the book, but she couldn’t let it go. It was as if the book had chosen her, as if it were calling her to uncover its secrets.

Maybe I'm just seeing what my heart wants to see. He said nothing, just stared at me. I let out a resigned sigh, and with a heavy heart walked out the door shutting that chapter of my life for good. *** The snow fell a top me as I dragged my things to the sidewalk. I didn't have anyone to call, nobody to lean on. I was all alone. My parents were gone, murdered, and I didn't have anyone to reach out to. I was all alone.

I’d follow her to the ends of the earth. ***Sarah POV*** Yawning, I stretched my hands above my head. I’d spent the entire time banging out a rough outline for my next book. My time with Dom had left me inspired in a way that I hadn’t been before. I felt giddy at the idea of starting this new project. Maybe this would be the one that finally took off.

Mine was frantic and shallow; Killian’s was deep and dangerously steady. The air in the library smelled of old parchment and expensive leather, a sharp contrast to the perfume and champagne outside. It was a cold room, but the heat radiating from Killian was enough to burn. He did not turn on the lights. He did not have to. The moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long, jagged shadows across the floor. He did not stop until I was pressed back against a shelf of leather bound books, the hard spines digging into my shoulder blades. "Killian," I whispered, the name catching in my throat.