Independence Is A Good Look On Her Novel Novels & Stories

The novel she had been reading fell down with a loud thud. Wow! Was that Jacob? Looked more like a Greek God with an archetype torso and a perfect tan. The sight sent unwelcome shivers down her spine. How could a mere look at him make her feel that way? Was it normal for a woman to be aroused so quickly again?

My attention was fixed entirely on Isla, watching as she disappeared down the street, her notebook held tightly to her chest. I smiled. She was stubborn. Independent. Brilliant. And she would never, ever know how much she had captured my attention, my heart, and my determination. But I did not care. I would wait, watch, and when the time was right, I would make sure she could never slip away again.

With a final satisfied nod, she admired the colorful display. Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes watched from across the room—silent, curious, calculating. She had worked at this little independent bookstore for just over a year, ever since graduating university. It wasn’t the career she had envisioned, but it offered a comforting simplicity. The scent of paper, the rustle of turning pages, the quiet shuffle of feet on worn wooden floors—these were the constants that anchored her. They made her feel like she belonged in a way she hadn’t since crossing the stage in cap and gown.

She kept looking up and down, left and right of her. The palace was really modern, decorated with ancient scriptures and statues, which made her eyes shine with delight; she wanted to capture every single view in her eyes for forever. Perhaps this is a dream that she is having, or perhaps it is a real whatever it maybe but she wishes to capture every scenario for use in her novel. Maidens were annoyed by her clumsy behaviour as she turned her head to take in every view. They were figuring out by Yona's behaviour and her attire that she was not from there .

- KILLIAN - I close my novel and stretch my arms. This book ended nicely. It was no way romantic or filled with any sort of illusion of love, just a great story line with good action and gore. My type of thing. My gaze falls on the lady by my side. On a normal day, she’d be asleep but she’s not. It’s been hours if I’m not mistaken and she hasn’t moved an inch from her position on the bed, nor is she reading so why on earth is she awake?

After reading it, she bit my lower lip and still wanted this book very much. I smiled and said, “If you like this manuscript so much, then I will give it to you. Take it home and read it.” She looked at me in disbelief. “Really? I wanted to borrow it just now, but you refused. And now you are willing to give it to me?” I nodded. “We are destined. “Thank you, Miss!” She said, “Miss, you are really beautiful. Do you know that? Every time I read a novel, I always imagine the appearance of the female lead. I think you have the appearance of all the women in the novel, so beautiful.”

But obliging my curiosity, she tilted the cover and let me read the title. “How to lose an alien prince in 30 days?” I read out loud, frowning. “Sci-fi?” I’d pegged her as more of a murder/mystery myself. “No, romance,” she replied, never taking her eyes off the page. I tried to hide my surprise. She didn’t look like the type of woman who believed in “knights in shining armor” or “love conquers all”. She looked rational, strong, and independent. But it had me wondering what she DID believe in…

She asked Alex about his investor call, made jokes at my expense, and generally acted like a woman who belonged exactly where she was. This was who she was meant to be. Confident. Happy. Free. And watching her come into her power was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever witnessed. Later, after the dishes were done, I found her in the library, curled up in one of the leather chairs with the copy of Pride and Prejudice that Alex had given her. "Good book?" I asked. She looked up, marking her place. "I've read it a dozen times, but it never gets old. There's something comforting about stories where everything works out in the end."

She cautiously made her way back to the quiet library. She scanned the thousands of titles, her fingers brushing over worn leather spines. She should have picked a history, or a strategy text, something to sharpen her mind. Instead, her hand hesitated and then settled on a novel with a worn, colorful cover depicting a windswept couple. A romance. It felt foolish, indulgent, but she pulled it from the shelf anyway.

Isabella isn't in the room and I glance around, wondering where she has gone when I hear the shower running. She must be in the bathroom. I was thinking she had gone somewhere else in embarrassment of what she had done to humiliate me but it's ok. I understand that she is only trying to help. I am thinking of going out to give her enough time to come out and get dressed when my gaze falls on the book on the sectional sofa. It looks like a novel so I pick it up. The title is MAIL-ORDER BRIDE and it looks like a romantic novel from the 20th century. I can figure it out from the cover of the book which has a bride and a man in a frock.