Janet Harte Library Novels & Stories

a sexy librarian. During that first encounter, I struggled to focus my attention on her face (or Janie), because her tits were an eyeful. Either she had big, hard nipples or puffies poking through her bra; they were almost impossible to ignore. The t-shirt hugged her body and showed everything she had to offer; the shirt had "Books Make Everything Better" across the front and I tried to cover my adolescent behavior by asking her about the shirt. She smiled, "I'm in library sciences and I got it at a library symposium...yeah, there are library conventions. I know it sounds geeky, but they can get wild."

My gaze flicks just once towards Damian. He swallows. “But tonight,” I say firmly, “I stand here not as someone’s wife, or someone’s burden, or someone’s secret.” My uncle nods beside me. “I stand here as Elena Hart.” Applause erupts again. I lift my hand slightly, asking for quiet. “Hart Capital was built by a woman named Flurina Hart,” I say, warmth spreading through my chest. “A woman who believed legacy wasn’t about power, but responsibility.” I glance at Alexander.

A man as successful and well known as him would never do anything like that. For someone as common as me, he would not, I am quite sure about that. I doubt I am going to be face to face with him ever again, I tell myself and get back to my work. I need to focus on my work and not some famous billionaire. "Whatever the reason, him being a member is great for our library. We can use this fact to lure so many new members and donors." Janet said happily. I could not help but laugh at Janet's enthusiasm. She really works very hard to try and get best books and there are many who benefit from it.

Jax’s POV The Harrington Library at 1:00 AM felt less like a center for learning and more like a mausoleum for dead dreams. The air was stale, smelling of ancient parchment and the lingering scent of floor wax. I moved through the stacks with the silent precision I’d honed sneaking out of my parents' Manhattan penthouse, my eyes scanning the shadows for a flash of navy blue or a mess of dark hair.

"She hasn't arrived yet?" "I've called and they seem to be stuck in traffic. I think they'll be here soon," David replied. ".... Mr. Jameson Hart IX who is celebrating his 81st birthday. For that, please allow me to call all members of the Hart family to come together on this podium and welcome Mr. Jameson Hart IX." The MC received a piece of paper from a woman behind him. "Mr. Alexander Hart. This time he appears alone because Mrs. Merryl Hart is still undergoing a retreat in Europe, to recover her health condition which has declined recently," said the MC. "Mr. Liam Hart, Mr. Lucas Hart and finally, Ms. Loreine Hart."

One dusty main road with a general store, a post office, a feed supply shop, a diner with a flickering neon sign, and a big community hall at the end that looked like it hosted everything from weddings to livestock auctions. Kids, maybe six or eight years old were playing some kind of makeshift baseball in a field beside the hall, shouting and laughing as a dusty dog chased the ball. Delaney waved at them, and a couple waved back. Everyone knew her. Everyone knew me, somehow. “That’s Mrs. Hargrove. She runs the library on Tuesdays,” Delaney said, steering me toward an older woman watering flowers outside the store. “And this is Lila, Sarah’s girl. All grown up now.”

Harry pushed open the door and walked out. As expected, Harry was highly efficient. It did not take him too long before he came back in. ”Mr. Valentine, Ms. Hart is no longer in Santatabaca. She took the six o’clock train from Santatabaca to Nokocola Bay yesterday. Now she is in Nokocola Bay.” Mark squinted, a layer of gloom appearing on his bitter face. His deep eyes gradually darkened, and anger flickered and billowed inside them.

Hayley smirked. “Hayley Michael, do you mind being quiet for a minute.” The teacher barked. “Of course.” She grinned. Janeka and Earnestine were at the library. She had shown her what she had learned about the darkness, but what she didn't know was if it would lend any helping hand at all. Every idea is worth a try, flipping pages and bringing new books. Janeka moved strands of her hair behind her ears as she try to comprehend all the ideas at once.

And as she closed the balcony doors behind her, the words she whispered were almost lost to the wind— “I’m ready.” A few months later, the Hart Foundation opened its first women’s shelter in downtown Chicago. The plaque on the wall read: Dedicated to those who fought their battles in silence — and won. — Evelyn Hart Montgomery. As the ribbon was cut, applause thundered. Evelyn looked up — and saw Sebastian holding Anastasia on his shoulders, Kent by his side. Liam stood nearby, smiling proudly. And for the first time in a very long time, Evelyn didn’t feel haunted.

Elena's POV I met her in a small room behind the clinic. It smelled faintly of tea and paper. Her hands shook when she pushed the chair out for me. She was shorter than I had pictured and wore a plain coat. “Thank you for coming,” I said. “Mrs. Hart?” she asked, and her voice caught. “I— I’m Janet. I used to work for the trustee office.” “Sit,” I told her. “Take your time.” She sat. She folded her hands in her lap like a child. “You don’t have to tell me everything,” she whispered. “I only can do small things.”