Jane Eyre Edition Novels & Stories

I made my way to the main library, hoping a book would distract me. The room was dark, I turned on a small lamp and started browsing the shelves, running my fingers along the spines. I needed something comforting, something that would take me far away from this confusing house and the man who lived in it. I pulled out an old copy of Jane Eyre and settled into the armchair by the window. But even the words on the page couldn’t hold my attention. My mind kept drifting back to Lucian, the way his body had reacted when he saw me naked.

she whispered. "Good," Julian said. Two hours later, Aurora’s silver phone vibrated violently against the wooden table. She picked it up. It was a direct response from Evelyn Vance in New York. Aurora read the short, aggressive block of text. Her pulse hammered a frantic rhythm. "This is the book," the editor wrote. "This is the definitive voice of the household. Every chapter should be as honest as this one. The man in the doorway is the center of the book. Make sure he knows."

I was reading Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, not the first time with this masterpiece, but my admiration never fades away. Jane undeniably is one of the most amazing characters I have encountered in a book. Her perseverance in the face of adversity, her strong personality and wisdom always leaves me awe. There was something about her that I felt deeply connected with, a major reason I always turn back to this book when my life tides seem to get violent.

Aside from that… [“Don’t ever come and see him again. I hate him. We don’t need someone like him.” Jane sighed sharply after recalling what Eugene said to her before. Her feet ceased as she thought of the plan on how she’ll deal with Eric’s condition if Eugene hates his father so much. “This will be a long battle,” she whispered with a nod. Turning her head, Jane saw her reflection through the mirror. She’s wearing a peach dress and white doll shoes. Jane put light make-up on and she tied her jet-black hair half. Seeing her image, she broke into a smile. Jane is naturally gorgeous from head to toe. Her hair is shining black, in contrast to her pale skin that is as white as snow. Her eyes are

I preferred to go into a staring contest with an inanimate object that to look at Asher, who I might have consciously forgotten. A book on the shelf stood out, it was inconspicuously standing out among its peers; Jane Eyre. A classic I had gotten as a gift for my eighteenth birthday from Reene, thinking of my Reene my eyes began to tear up. I hadn’t contacted any one from home since and although it was barely twelve hours since I left, I could not help thinking of them.

DANIEL I jolted awake from what seemed to have been a wet dream, with a hard c*ck and soiled briefs. I got it bad, I know. I glanced at the bedside clock briefly, before turning over and continue sleeping. It was my off day. I wiggled trying to get a comfy position and closed my eyes. I tried to fall back to sleep, but a certain brown-eyed boy and our steamy encounter the previous night, assaulted my mind.

The sheer volume of thought and imagination contained in this room deserved respect. I climbed the stairs to Bronte and pulled out the first edition of Jane Eyre. I held the book like a fragile chick. Looking around, hoping against all odds he had, I spotted a window seat. There were even curtains covered with tape. I walked past Clive and Russell, who were discussing a vampire party visiting the city, and climbed onto the windowsill, drawing the curtains. The seat was the size of a double bed, with cushions and cushions. The heavy curtains muffled the voices of the men.

“I thought he moved on.” But Ash didn’t move on. He waited. And now he was here. Later that afternoon, August’s room was empty again. No photos. No trace of intrusion. The wall was clean, freshly painted, as if nothing had ever been there. Except for one item. On his bed: a hardcover book. Jane Eyre. Inside, underlined in red: “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”

I pick it up and notice that it has my name on it. Should I open it? I know it's not good to snoop around people's stuff but... at least I have to know what's in the box. I need to know. If it has my name, then it means it's meant for me. I carefully open the box and inside, I find a novel. 'JANE EYRE by Charlotte Brontë' Scott loved to read, alot. I bet he was going to surprise me with this novel later but... whatever happened, already happened. I will definitely read it.

Because one thing is for sure, I don't want to grow old and be a crazy cat lady. I went out of the house, holding the shop's key and the book. I went there, looking left and right to catch Dom around. But there's no sign of him in the fields. I patiently waited in the shop while reading Jane Eyre and channeling the main character's energy to my own. A few customers from houses a few meters away came, mostly children buying things for their parents.