Happiness Fiction Book Novels & Stories

I enjoy reading books as I listen to soothing music. My favorite book is your face. My favorite page is in your eyes. My favorite chapter is in your emotions. My ultimate pleasure in your smile as I listen to the music of your laughter. Forever my favorite book. It's called Dove. ~Humeyra HAMDAN'S P.O.V

I was expecting my heart to race as it used to when he was close, but it didn't; instead, my heart was peaceful. @@@@@@ Author, are you a lovely lady? First and first, I apologize; I like this book and wish to update it frequently, but I have never earned a dime from it, therefore my exclusive book took precedence. I beg your pardon. Please share my book so I may live a better life hahaha, and while you're waiting for it, you can read my unique book on fictum or fizzo here: by memories (Ruthless is about to become Alpha)

A DreamHaven of your own. Thank you for believing in our story. For holding space for our mess and our healing. For understanding that happy endings aren't perfect, they're just people who refuse to quit on each other. We built this for you. With love and gratitude, Cinnamon Wealth-Moretti Author's Note Dear Reader, If you're holding this book, you've just completed a journey that has taken month to write and a time to understand. Thank you.

“You should stop reading fiction books. They are just fiction. They don’t teach you anything worthwhile.” Iva smiled at him because she knew that he was upset due to her book-reading habit as she wouldn’t let him get close until she finished the book. “Non fiction does inform the mind, but fiction infiltrates it. One gives you the maps of the world, while the other lets you wander through many worlds from your home. You should try reading some fiction as it sparks original thinking, Dear.” “Pfft, original thinking? How?” Gareth turned his head and stared at her. “Give me one good example?”

On the high-speed train home, the scenery outside passed by in fragments, but I could not focus on any of it. Shanine slept soundly on my shoulder. She had drunk too much the night before and had been rushed onto the train early this morning, leaving her half-dazed. Her hair brushed my neck, carrying the familiar scent of her shampoo. Yet, my heart felt strangely quiet. Almost empty. That happiness had arrived too fiercely, and it had disappeared just as quickly. Phoebe sat across from us, wearing headphones and scrolling through her phone. Occasionally, she looked up, our eyes meeting briefly before she quickly looked away again, as if nothing had ever happened.

I love the quiet, the possibility, the way you could lose yourself in someone else's story for a while and forget about your own mess. I went straight to the fiction section, and browsed for a while, pulling out books at random and reading the first few pages. Most of them didn't grab me, but there was one: it's a debut novel about a woman trying to figure out who she was outside of who everyone expected her to be. It made me pause. I read the first chapter standing there in the aisle, and by the end of it, I was really buying it. The cashier was a girl around my age with purple hair and a nose ring, and she smiled when she saw my choice. "That one's really good. It made me cry like three ti

Harper had scheduled for the group a visit to a book store she had sighted in town. She felt that it would give her time to catch up on her business which her assistant was running and she needed a room to breath. Lately, she had taken to doing whatever would make her happy. Anything that would bring her closer to her child, that would strengthen their bond. She had started to put herself first. Prioritize her happiness over anything else. The ride to the bookstore across the road was smooth and filled with comfortable silence. As soon as the car stopped, they all stepped out, filing into the coffee bookstore.

I guess someone must have been taking it and put it there. I took the book and start reading, oh gosh I'm so tired. I wanted to sleep. I just finish around 30%, I still have 70% to go. Oh great! I keep yawning and yawning. I need a coffee like.. Really need one. I walked outside and looked for a vending machine. I remembered that it's near my drawing class. I walked there and buy 2 cans of coffee. When I arrived at the library, there a bread and a hot coffee on the top of my desk. This is weird. I looked around to find someone I know, who did this?

They reveled in the simple joys of companionship, finding solace in the shared memories and the comfort of a love that had stood the test of time. Hazel's bookstore had become a sanctuary for the community, a place where stories were cherished, and connections were forged. She took pride in fostering a love for literature and creating a space where imaginations could soar. The bookstore had become a beacon of light, a testament to Hazel's enduring passion for storytelling and community.

I would often feel my stomach kick me with hunger , as my nose smelt the food that was cooking but I easily turned my attention back to the burning kingdom. Eventually after a while , I hear footsteps nearing me – I do not take notice of the person who takes a seat next to me and the masculine scent that enters my nose accompanied by the delicious smell of food , I come to a conclusion that it is Xavier with a plate of food. “Here…” he brings a spoon full of the bowls content to my mouth , and at first I refuse it but eventually I had given in to it’s scent and opened my mouth. He began to feed me , and I actually enjoyed it – it was comforting , like he is there for me but did not need to r