Historical Fiction Books For 12 Year Olds นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“Whatever this is. Fantasy? Romance? Giant doorstops with dragons on the cover?” I gasped dramatically. “Did you just insult The Name of the Wind?” “I have no idea what that is,” he admitted with zero shame. “But I’m willing to be educated.” I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him toward the shelves. “You seriously don’t read fiction? At all?” “Not unless you count playbooks,” he said, trailing after me. “I’m more of a highlights-and-scouting-reports kind of guy.” “That’s tragic.” I ran my fingers along the spines of well-worn books, pulling one free. “Okay, this, this was my favorite when I was ten. Anne of Green Gables.”

The Alpha has it. The first book had left its readers including me in a cliffhanger. I had always wanted to know what happened next on the journey of the main character. Actually it was not really about the world’s history, but it is just about the character travelling to different places in different times, discovering treasures, witnessing wars, anything that happened significantly on the year he had travelled on. And though it is a fictional story, it still has a touch of true world history in it, depending on where the character went and what time.

It looked older than the other shelves, and the books there had that old dusty smell, like they hadn’t been touched in a long time. My eyes moved quickly across the titles. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for, but I hoped I would feel it when I saw it. I pulled out a book called Legends of the Moonrise Clans. The pages were yellow and made a soft crackling sound as I turned them. I flipped through it, but it only talked about old Alphas and stories about battles from hundreds of years ago. Nothing about powers. Nothing about girls like me.

Eighteen years ago. Book II Dream

The bookshelf was just as tall as Andrew so he could easily access the books there. The bookshelf had all sorts of books, ranging from fictional novels to nonfictional novels, to educational novels and textbooks. Her eyes caught titles like; The Redwall series by Brian Jacques, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros and a lot more. Even the Encyclopedia was in his bookshelf. And there was also some novels on the basis of business and finance. The book the lad was currently reading was The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

"It teaches you about the French Revolution, which took place in the seventeen-nineties in the country of France. It is a good book if you like history or violence or exciting suspense. It is a love story, too. All in all, it is an excellent book." Jane started towards her seat. Relief mingled with pride. It was over now, the book and the report. If the length counted for anything, she would get an A plus. Her report hadn't been as long and flowery as Lucy's, but it had been more interesting and informative than Emily's. Maybe she'd even get an A for the trimester. If Jane were the one giving out grades, anyone who read a book with 422 pages would get an A for the year. But when she looked b

I missed my mate, my freedom, my friends, Kailin, and everyone at the vineyards. I watched a series about a group of delinquent kids born in space and dropped to Earth to see if the air was already breathable. I finished Episode twelve, and when a particular character pissed me off, I turned it off and went to read something in the study. There were some fiction books, but primarily old books from Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Herman Melville. There were self-help and meditation books and a book about mystical creatures. I walked out of the study. If she allowed me to read a book about witchcraft, it might interest me, but that would be as dangerous as walking into the darkness without

Where in other history books there was missing information that seemed removed this book had it all and she got more and curious. In one part where in other books it was missing the time of multiple years this book recorded that time and made her pin her ears. It had recorded the time as a time of great evil when a king had enforced slavery and experimentation to the point of causing a mass revolt led by his own son. In some of the parts that recorded some of the experiments it made her queasy. She was both shocked and angry.

The way silence with him is never empty. He tells me, at some point, about the summer he is twelve and reads every book on the third shelf left to right in order without looking at titles first, just to see what happens. “What happens,” I say. “I read three biographies of Napoleon, a book about beekeeping, two novels in French that I cannot understand, and a very long history of the British canal system,” he says. “In that order.” I stare at him. “How was the canal system.” “Surprisingly interesting,” he says. “Genuinely. I still think about the canal system sometimes. At inappropriate moments.”

No longer able to slip my finger over the backs of the books for fear I might touch something else I didn’t want to know about, I tried to read some of the titles, but I could see these books had been handled a lot. I wondered where they would have been stored in the library and who would have spent so much time reading them. I found one that had to do with the history of the first beast and made sure the cover was animal before I pulled it out. I could deal with animal leather. Finding a seat, I made myself comfortable and started reading the account of one of the royal council members. “September 15th, 1789