Jane Eyre Novels & Stories

She clasped her hands behind her back, fixed her eyes somewhere on the ceiling, and let loose her usual torrent of words. "I read a wonderful book called, Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë. It was written in 1847, but the characters in the book are so real that you feel as if they're living today. When I read this book, I felt as if I were Jane Eyre, a lonely, friendless orphan girl sent away to a cold, cruel boarding school where all the other girls despise her."

The one thing that she turns to when she needs an escape from her reality at the moment. “You must have something.” Gabe prombts her. “An old, worn out copy of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë that I keep in between my mattresses so that no one will find it and take it from me. Reading that book always brings me comfort.” And gives her hope. It makes her feel so much better to read it.

Sheba asked, confused. I groaned inwardly and wished she would remember the details of my complicated life. “Elizabeth is the woman who is claiming to have my husband’s child! Try to keep up, sister!” I snapped at her. Sheba bowed her head and looked sorry. “I’m sorry, Jane. I just can’t keep track of all your drama,” she said apologetically.

She wore a long black dress and a long purple coat, for some reason Jane put an imaginary pointed witch's hat atop her curly hair. “We had better get away from here. Don’t want to make it too easy for them” she gave Jane a generous wink. Elizabeth stumbled in the snow, the personification of a pale overdressed porcelain doll. Creepy wide staring eyes. She had dark eyes and luscious blonde hair. She probably came from an entirely fair family but was the sole inheritor of brown eyes. She was wearing a red sweatshirt with some team emblem. She wore dark pants and a frilly plaid skirt, reminiscent of Jane's rebellious phase where she wore lots of black lace. She is so young Jane thought sadly lo

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.

The silver thread glimmered like a dying star between my fingers as I pulled the final stitch. I had spent weeks carving a masterpiece out of a mess, breathing life into a gown that was little more than a hand-me-down from Nora, the chief maid. It was a relic of the royal palace, salvaged from the scrap heap of a life I was never meant to lead.

There are larger battles than desire. By the time I reached the northern ridge where my aunt lived, I had calmed enough to remember why I needed her. If anyone held the truth about my bloodline, it was her. Her cottage sat under the twisted boughs of a dead oak, the air thick with herbs and smoke. She was waiting for me, as though she had already known I’d come. Her eyes, pale and sharp like winter ice, fixed on me the moment I entered. “You look tired,” she said, her voice like gravel.

Her father is hardly ever home, working long hours in the city while her mother spends most of her time grading papers from all of her high school students. She opens the door quietly, but there is no need. Her mother is still awake. She's curled up in the living room reading her latest adventure novel wrapped on the comfy (and dare she call ugly) recliner her father just had to have. Her curly auburn hair is up in a bun with a few stray strands spiraling free as her eyes intently scan the new Kindle she received for her birthday only a few weeks ago. It's safe to say she has become a little obsessed with it. Can't say Sera can blame her. She herself escapes to a different world every time s

They are going to the Sy's mansion, and Jane thought that it is good for Justin to take a breath outside of the house. Jane's work there in the mansion is going pretty well, she has been a housemaid for 5 years now, and the payment gets higher based on her length of service. There are several housemaids serving the family of Sy, and Jane is one of them. Justin, however, stuck in the house all day, and even if he tried to read countless times, memorize the basic alphabet, tried to count numbers, his dyslexia and dyscalculia hinder him from learning that simple thing.

"Are you going to the party?" I answered, "Yes but i'm not going anywhere near party games." He laughed at me and we went inside to our seats, playfully joking before class started. Jane Eyre was the pick of the day; it was a gothic romance and I couldn't stop myself from laughing when Jason rolled his eyes at the book, saying it was corny. I couldn't focus because he was constantly making me laugh with his critical remarks. Throughout the day, I didn't see Jen. I decided to go to the cheer room and pop up on her. of course, she was getting her things together and putting them back into her bag.