Harper Lee Novels Novels & Stories

Harper I feel heavy. Like I have been hit by a bus. It has to be close to what it feels like being hit by a bus going thirty in a fifteen zone. My bones ache—my fingers and toes tingle. My eyeballs are sore. I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, and I already do not want to start the day or the evening. I have no clue of the time. I must have partied too hard last night and was slipped something in my drink. I don’t remember anything. A.N.Y.T.H.I.NG, except how to spell adequately, and that’s something. What is that horrendous smell? Is it me? Harper breathes in the air. Taking it in the room and the strongest aroma is her. The smell is mostly urine. This girl has peed her herself. The second s

Both of them plotting against Diego — the one person who had bled for me, shielded me, when everyone else turned away. And still, I said nothing. I backed away, each step careful, deliberate, until the voices dulled into the night. My hands shook violently, the glass of water still clenched in one. It slipped, shattering against the tiles, but the sound felt distant, unimportant. All I could hear were their voices. Their plan. Their betrayal. And I knew — whatever came next, I would never look at Sage or Alvin the same way again. A sudden creak of the back door snapped my head around. The shadows shifted. A figure moved closer from the darkened yard, tall, broad, carrying an unmistakable pre

Hence, in the morning, I tricked her into leaving by saying I wanted pancakes. Then, I locked the door and went to the window. It was three stories down. That should be enough. Right then, someone walking by saw me and screamed, "Someone's trying to jump! Quick, call 911!" At the same time, Jim and Calvin were pounding on the door. Jim yelled, "Yoana, if you jump, I'll break every single doll in your room!" I used to adore dolls and always asked him to buy them for me. I treasured each of them, keeping them safe in my cabinet.

"By the way, what are you coming here for?" While tidying up the papers and some files on her messy desk, Harper tried to get Amber's attention away from Alex and whatever possibility she was thinking. And while she was arranging all the papers on the side of the table, the tail of her eyes accidentally caught the silhouette of a black book on the table that she had not touched for a long time because she had been struggling with Alex's problems and the things that have been haunting her for too long. She then grabbed the novel and stuffed it into her handbag. Hope to read it again when the moment is right to read. "It's about Tyler."

I put my bag down on the floor before I sat down, crossing both of my legs before comfortably leaning on the shelf to read the back part of this hardbound book. “To kill a mockingbird…” I trailed first before reading the next part of the blurb. "The unforgettable novel of a childhood in a sleepy, Southern town and the crisis of conscience that rocked it, To Kill a Mockingbird became both an instant bestseller and a critical success when it was first published in 1960. It went on to win the Pulitzer Prize in 1961 and was later made into an Academy Award-winning film, also a classic. Compassionate, dramatic, and deeply moving, To Kill a Mockingbird takes readers to the roots of human behavior-

The Jefferson College library was Harper’s sanctuary—quiet, organized, and strictly rule-bound. Rows of bookshelves stretched endlessly, punctuated by small study tables, and the faint smell of old paper and coffee lingered in the air. Harper loved it. It was peaceful. It was ordered. It was hers. And then Emery Collins entered.

The blind of Harper’s office doors were off so I could see the inside of the office, I slowly came to a halt as I stared inside, “Miss Harper, please is there no hope, please don’t go,” I watched as Leslie teared up, she stood in a corner as Collin and Harper packed up the load in the office, Harper flashed her a small smile and walked up to her, she placed her hands on her shoulder,

Marie said. "All literary characters." Pearl said after hearing about them. "Their names. Oliver, that's Dickens. Holden, that's Salinger. Atticus, is Harper Lee and Maisie, that's Henry James and Kipling." "Yes!" Marie smiled. "Not many catch that, I am and always have been an avid reader and lover of literature." "Same here." Pearl said. She was failing in love with his parents too. And no mention of money and no hint of billions. Ian was a liar.

“You know, it’s about an innocent man who gets let off because of this amazing lawyer?” “It’s not a happy ending,” said Alex, mournfully. He moved away. “So why’s this in here?” I frowned. “Oh,” he said, coming back. “It’s signed by Harper Lee. First Edition.” “Is that rare?” “Not so rare. But—” Alex said, reaching under the table and pressing a button. The door on the glass case unlocked. “Take a look.” I opened it up. “To J.F.K. from Harper Lee.” My eyes widened.

His eyes never left my face, and I just couldn't bring myself to stare back at him. I was about to leave when I spotted the book he was reading from the corner of my eyes. He had closed the book when I walked in, so I saw the cover and title, "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. I looked up at him in astonishment, "I didn't think you would be interested in classic literature."