Hold Still Book Novels & Stories

Eventually Elowen stopped before a small wooden table. One book rested upon it. Unlike the others, this one looked unfinished. Blank cover. Silver binding. No title. The library seemed quieter here. Waiting. Elowen touched the book gently. Then looked at us. "This one is special." Dangerous sentence. Hope immediately moved closer. Naturally. "What is it?" Elowen smiled. "A story still being written." Silence. The floating lanterns drifted overhead. Soft golden light danced across the blank cover. The book shimmered faintly.

Yam sliced it open slowly, hands trembling. Inside was their book. “The Art of Staying.” Cover: a sunflower. A crooked shelf. Two mugs—one chipped. And behind it all, the suggestion of a fan, mid-spin. Franc stared at it like it might whisper back. “Feels unreal,” Yam said. Franc flipped through pages. Some with artwork. Others with Yam’s poetry. Their story—wired beginnings and all—now bound in matte finish. “I think this book breathes,” Franc said.

And she thinks she don't have any of those. Hearing her sigh deeply, Jace turn around and try to hold her hand. She quickly hid her hands in her back. Honestly, she is not ready to answer the people if they see her holding hands with their CEO.

Too quiet for a place where legends once screamed. A young man walked alone through the upper halls. His steps didn't echo. They never did. The tower swallowed sound like it feared being overheard by something older than time. Bookshelves lined the walls, some untouched for years. Paintings of dead men stared down at him— some kings, some murderers, some both. He didn't stop for any of them. He paused only once—before a fireplace. Above it hung a sword. Thin. Sharp. Cold steel with veins of violet running through the blade.

I muttered, rocking Jodie. I had to let Flavia focus, so I stepped away from her and let my eyes roam around the section, hoping I would find a few books myself. Despite the countless eye-catching books with captivating covers in that section, I couldn’t shift my gaze off one particular book because it stood out to me. “Of course, it does,” Liya grunted as we both looked at the dirty and half-torn small book. “Anyone would have missed that because it is insignificant, but not you, Haylee.”

My chest tightened. “What?” He hesitated. Then shook his head. “No… maybe not.” “Why?” He looked toward the hallway. “The room.” My heart jumped. “No,” I said quickly. “I already—” I stopped myself. His eyes lit up slightly. “You went in?” “I just looked,” I said quickly. He didn’t get angry. He just leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t go there again.” “Why does everyone keep saying that?” I asked. “Because…” He paused. “Some things don’t stay just books.”

she handed the book back to me as if to rid herself of it. "It's stupid. Everyone has a different journey on this Earth so the advice that's listed it's useless," I found myself trying to put the book back on the shelf but I still couldn't reach. "Ren honey, put the book on there," there was this silver rectangular prism that stood right below my waist. I placed the book on its surface and it immediately vanished from the platform.

Dear Readers, Before you begin Matt and Holly’s story, please know that Hold Me Close was previously published under the title Adore Me Ardently. This second edition has been lightly edited and changed to better fit the overall feel of the rest of my catalogue. All my best, Iris

That would work to their advantage when it came time to raid it for the rescue. Amber saw two more men right away sitting at a card table deep into a game of poker apparently. A tall one with zero body fat and bald as a baby jumped up so abruptly, he nearly upturned the table. The one which remained seated was old enough to be someone’s fucking grandpa with a head full of white hair. He kinda looked like Santa actually. But instead of a sack full of presents, he had an AK 47. “What the fuck Kane? Who the fuck is she?” asked Beanpole.

A lockbox is fixed to the wall–built within it. The room blurs. I forget where I am as I send my powers into the lockbox. Metal sizzles until the frame comes loose from the wall, and the little metal door falls into my hand. I toss it behind me and reach inside, praying, my fingertips grazing cash and jewelry before finding… the book. “Yes,” I hiss, smiling deliriously as I pull the book from its hiding place, clutching the small, black leather cover and rocking back on my heels. I flip through the pages, confirming it’s the copy, the only book of its kind in existence.