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I held the ‘The Ugly Duckling’ book, its cover now ripped. “Tis yours? Thought the owner of tis would be older.” Well, he’s not wrong though. It was initially my Ma’s, but I just stole it from her. I shuddered when remembered how Ma threw most of the books in our house away when she caught me reading mature novels. “Well, majority of the books here are mine, as well.” “Wow! Gramps said that, that book is not an easy read,” Gus said, pointing at the book I was holding. He was now behind me. “Does kids in your village really good at reading?”

The air smelt extreme. She stared at her feet, they were buried in sand and it cooled her toes. When she tried to move her knees buckled to the force that held her to the ground, her eyes moved upwards from her knees. She raised her gaze to her stomach, then she realized why she had goosebumps biting into her skin. Zipporah was naked and the cold didn’t bother her, in fact, nothing about her strange situation bothered her, but then, her indifference about her situation began to bother her. She shoved at her feet but whoever stripped and planted her on a muddy soil, meant for her not to move.

I got out a dense packed book and quickly went back to Reuben in bed. He looked confused and disheveled; his inquisitive gaze fell on the book in my hand. He asked, "What is that?" I, in turn, proudly presented it to him, "Lo and behold Your Highness, this right here in my hand is the 5th popular limited edition of Busty Asian Babes. I heard it is so stimulating that you can release at any time." Reuben with book in hand, "..........."

I was rubbing my nighttime skincare lotion into my skin, massaging it into my pores when I got a weird tingling in my body. Goosebumps appeared on my skin, and I turned sharply towards the window but didn't see anything. Yet I couldn't shake off the feeling so I stood up, abandoning the cream, and walked open to the window. I flipped open the latch and pushed it up then stuck my neck out, looking left and right. I still didn't see anything so I closed the window. I bent over the side of the bed, looking for the book I had kept on the nightstand when I heard a loud creak.

But no, I held it and it was real. It felt so real that it made goosebumps decorate my skin like a piece of art. The first thing I did was close the book and throw it back under the bed like it burned my hands and then I just sat on my bed for seconds longer than I was able to count and just…stared. Stared into blank space. I should have stopped reading from the second entry. Should have taken the warning of the last two lines from that entry but I couldn’t stop myself from being sucked into the pages and had to move on to the third and now I wish I never did.

The darkness between the trees looked thicker than it should, as if it had weight. I brushed my teeth, changed into an oversized shirt, and crawled into bed with a book, some worn romance novel I’d read twice already, its spine creased like an old friend. The heroine was kissing someone in a moonlit garden when a sound cut through the night. A howl. Long, low, carrying. My breath hitched. Another answered it from farther away, fainter but sharp enough to raise goosebumps along my arms. The hairs on my neck stood up as if my body recognized something my mind refused to name.

The book was about a bear and a rabbit who were trying to determine which of them could stay awake longer. He read it with the same attention he gave to surgical literature. I was at the drafting table with my back partly toward him and I kept my eyes on the page in front of me, the developmental series sketches, but I was not drawing. I was listening to Tristan Cross read a picture book about a bear and a rabbit in the specific tone he used for things that required doing correctly. After the first book he set it down and picked up the second. This one was about a small girl who was afraid of thunder and the grandmother who told her the thunder was just the sky moving furniture around.

Her stomach growled but she ignored it, knowing that there was no way he would send food to her that day, she’d better start getting used to going hours or days without food. Phoebe climbed up to her bed, and a soft moan escaped her lips as her back kissed the dressings that caressed her refreshed skin. She turned to the back of the book, and read the synopsis. Satisfied with what she’d read, she turned to the first page and began to read, inhaling the rusty smell of the book in delight. But she hadn't read up to two lines when Lucas pushed the door open.

Made a hot cocoa for myself and snuggled up in a blanket with "fault in our stars" Now I was reading the part where Hazel reads the letter to Augustus. It took me back to the time when someone special had written a crazy letter for me back in time . Bubbles. Bubbles was no ordinary guy, there was something very special about him, about his whole aura. I was 14 when I met bubbles. I was looking for new books in a store down the street, because you just can not get enough. Am I right or am I right? Well, I was looking for something in the horror/thriller section. Stefen King's "The Stand" caught my eyes I went to get the book off the rack, but somehow I couldn't. It was being pulled from the o

Without hesitation, Ben raised his hands above his head and said, “Bidh mi a ’gairm air na h-eileamaidean gus ar saoradh bho seo. Gabh sinn gu sàbhailteachd ar cùmhnanta.” Jasper’s heart lept to his throat as he heard the sound of footsteps running down the hall toward his quarters. “They’re onto us,” he managed to say before the room swirled around them and then disappeared in a type of whirlwind. He and Lila clung to each other as if their lives depended upon it while the world spun around them. Then, as quickly as it began, it stopped. Feeling mildly nauseous, he surveyed his surroundings. They were in a cave of some sort that was illuminated by dozens and dozens of lit candles. There w