Hushed Book Novels & Stories

Kharyn said. “Then, I will read this now.” Zenus and Kharyn exchanged glances. And they nodded. Both appeared uneasy. WHEN Eleand reached his room, he immediately changed his clothes. His wings were nowhere in sight. He hurriedly looked at the old book, and it seemed to talk with him for some reason. The texts inside must have had a significant amount of magic. It was utterly different compared to the books he had used. Read me. He knew that wasn’t hallucinations. The book talked in his mind!

A little whisper of an echo darting through the darkness. Both of us tensed, our wolves alert and ears scanning for any trace of sound. Staying quiet was one of the lines in the poem, but we had no other way to communicate. Quiet did not mean silent, and I wondered if we might get away with lowering our voices. A musty smell wafted through the shelves; it smelled of dust, bones, and dry leather. It wasn’t the most disgusting thing I had smelled, but was bad enough to make Helena and I wrinkle our noses. I pointed towards the unending rows of bookshelves.

Centuries have passed and that girl, even when it's tough for me to concede, is probably dead. Thus, another girl, a grown-up lady is always appearing. This dilemma has been present for ever since year 2018 started, goddamn it! I paved my way through the Italian bar. The entrance was covered with beautiful and pink flowers with the neon letters La Fleur. You wouldn't expect that inside it was a bar full of monsters doing drugs, sex, and feeding on people. I saw a familiar man coming out of the counter and making his way to me. I grinned at him and nodded, letting my red pupil show – a way to greet your co-vampires. He did the same too.

He shifts back; putting a seat between us and truly looking horrified. Bibah simply shakes her head at our childish shenanigans and takes a sip of her iced latte, metal straw clinking in the Hydro Flask. “The Awoo Book Club’s pick for this week is H.P Lovecraft.” She pats the voluminous book atop the pile and I notice it’s the library copy of H.P Lovecraft’s Omnibus 3. “I’m so excited to roast his ass.”

Sign up Log in BackInfoAdd to libraryInfo Navigated to -Chapter 20- | The White Wolf | Quotev Something was wrong. My bed seemed different. Warmth encircled me and the welcoming scent of the ocean woke me from my slumber. I was in Justin's room. I looked over realizing we had both moved to the middle of the bed causing me to be a few inches away from him. Justin's hair was a mess sticking up every which way, though mine was probably worse.

Smelling like dust and parchment. The room was silent. Not even the sound of wandering mice at this late hour. I flicked on a desk lamp, eyeing the obscure titles. Goodness, they had to be hundreds of years old. I lightly touched the spines, careful not to damage the books as I pulled out a thick one that called out to me. Woosh. I turned quickly, my breath picking up as I tried to follow the noise. No one stood in the doorway. The hallway was empty and dark.

A story of desire, growth, friendship, and emotional redemption. About the Author Dr. Julius Chinamo is an accomplished author, counselor, and speaker whose work weaves deep emotional insight with real-world experience. With a Doctorate in Christian Counseling and decades of practice supporting individuals and families, Dr. Chinamo brings a rare blend of empathy and wisdom to his writing. His stories are shaped by real conversations and real pain infused with hope, honesty, and the unshakable belief that healing is possible. Whispers of the Heart reflects his signature approach: storytelling rooted in emotional truth, connection, and the quiet strength of vulnerability.

The sound of he shredded me, her gasp more pain than word, and I lost what little control I had left. Nyssa whispered the invitation—ragged, broken—and the hush drank it even as it opened the door. My rage thundered through the bond, wild, feral, vowing to rip apart whatever dared use her voice as a meal. The door yielded at once. A voice slithered out of the silence as I crossed, sly and amused: “Welcome to the Hush House, gargoyle. You reek of ash and desperation.” It named the place for me, as though gifting the title with mockery. My boots struck the stone steps like war drums, each one leaving a smear of ash. The air thickened, pulling at my lungs, trying to rob me as he had robbed her.

“I don’t have a choice. Not anymore.” ‎The restricted section of the library was darker, even under the afternoon sun. Dust motes floated like tiny stars in the streams of light that managed to pierce the gloom. My shadows reacted immediately, curling around my ankles protectively, sensing the danger that hung in the air. ‎I ran my fingers along the edge of a tall shelf and found a narrow gap behind a row of spellbooks. Kaelen didn’t hesitate to step closer, his presence both reassuring and unnervingly intimate. I pressed my hand to the stone wall behind the shelf, revealing a small, hidden alcove. Inside, a single pedestal held a book unlike any I had ever seen. Its cover was black, etched

I kept walking toward the back wall then I saw something strange. A soft golden glow appeared between two massive bookshelves I walked past a thousand times. It was a hidden section. The books here looked ancient, their leather spines shimmering faintly. Titles like The Touch of Shadows, Bound by Moonlight, and Whispers After Dark seemed to pulse with their own light. My fingers trembled as I reached out and pulled one book from the shelf. It felt warm, almost alive. I was so curious to see so I opened it slowly.