How Does It Feel Book Review Novels & Stories

Hello Lovely People! Don't forget to Rate my book with 5 stars, share your voice in the comment section and share my book. Also read my other book, 'Wounded and Bounded'. Now dive in. Love, Krystal GoodNovel *** Everything around me was moving. I could feel it. Under my head, I could sense something, a little hard along with the softness. My body was although laying but I still felt uncomfortable and whatever was covering me at the top like a blanket was definitely not a blanket as it was too short, covering my arms only.

Five minutes later, I hated how well it worked. My body felt lighter. My eyes clearer. Like someone had adjusted my internal brightness setting. “Okay,” I muttered. “I see you.” I opened my laptop. Chapter 4. The cursor blinked at me like it was judging my entire existence. I started typing anyway. The book flowed in a way it hadn’t in weeks. The protagonist wandered through her perfect life feeling like a guest in it. Everything beautiful. Everything hollow. She questioned whether fulfillment was supposed to feel louder than this.

I pause whispering these words as I turn the pages, but I never thought what I would learn after reading it. Just reading that sentence made my hands start to tremble, and my heart began to ache. I naturally hit my hand against my chest. But no matter what I did, the ache persisted. While I can hardly breathe, just as I began to believe that darkness would once again elude me, soft sprinklings of light suddenly appeared from the book, enveloping me in a warmth I had never imagined existing. Is this something? When I realized what was occurring, the book pages started flipping through the other pages before stopping at a specific spot. Suddenly, I felt lighter than before.

The reason my hands, which had finally stopped shaking, did not feel entirely like my own. By the hands of the hybrid. The book at my feet pulsed once, soft and satisfied, like something that had been waiting a very long time and had finally, at long last, arrived.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"How do you feel about it? Actually feel. Not the managed version." I looked at the unread page in my lap. Outside the library window the garden was still and white and Theo was doing a slow circuit of the far wall with his hands still in his pockets. "Like it explains everything and complicates everything simultaneously," I said. "Like I was already most of the way there without knowing what there was and now I know and it doesn't feel like new information exactly. It feels like information I already had that finally has a name." "That's not terrifying," Jamie said quietly. "That's actually beautiful."

I had thought that maybe a few people would read my book, but I had never imagined that it would resonate with so many. As I read through the messages and comments, I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over me. I had done it. I had written a book that people were actually reading and enjoying. It was a feeling like no other. But it wasn't just the fact that people were reading my book that was amazing. It was the fact that they were connecting with it on a deep level. They were sharing their own stories, their own struggles, and their own triumphs. They were telling me that my book had inspired them, that it had made them feel less alone.

I took the surprisingly heavy book, admiring the leather cover and gold embossing. I started reading and it was quite different from what I usually read but engaging, nevertheless. Like the title had suggested, it was quite a 'rash' book. Something one without someone to warm their bed would enjoy. I cleared my throat and continued reading in my clearest voice. "He too had bared the front part of his body and she felt his naked flesh against her as he came into her. For a moment he was still inside her, turgid there and quivering." I grimaced.

Nothing felt right. Damon helped bring over more books, setting them down one by one, his patience admirable but even he started to look tired after a while. Just when I was about to give up, something caught my eye. One book stood out. It wasn’t the brightest or the biggest, but something about it… pulled me in. I stood up, my feet moving on their own as if I was being drawn toward it. Reaching out, I let my fingers brush against the worn cover. The moment I touched it, a strange warmth buzzed through my skin.

ERICA The book in my hands was good. Too good. The kind of good that made you forget the world around you, that pulled you into a reality so immersive, you felt the weight of each word like it was your own story. I had been reading for hours, curled up on my bed, wrapped in the comfort of my oversized sweater, with nothing but the steady rhythm of rain tapping against the window to accompany me. It was one of those rare moments of peace, where time slowed, and nothing else existed except the pages in front of me.

Plus, I needed something to fill the void of not being able to kiss my father’s best friend. The book was more fun than I expected. I was giggling, kicking my feet, blushing…cringing too. Until I got to the part where they were getting intimate for the first time. Heat spread through me. My body reacted on its own—my breath hitching, my clit throbbing, my nipples hardening. It felt like I was experiencing everything she was in the book. I bit my fingers, imagining Dr. Cavanagh doing the same to me. “What are you reading?”