Jo Anne Darcy Library Novels & Stories

Elaine said, appreciating the concern. Elaine and I chatted into the night, I noticed her eyes light up as she talked about her favorite books. "Have you read any of Jane Austen's novels?" she asked me excitedly. "Yes! Pride and Prejudice is one of my all-time favorites," I replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. "Oh my gosh, I love that one too! Mr. Darcy is just so swoon-worthy," Elaine gushed, her cheeks turning pink. I laughed at her reaction. "I have to admit, I may have a bit of a crush on him myself."

The collection was the envy of several small law schools. I glanced over at my mysterious companion, watching for his reaction. He didn't have one. That told me two things. He had a boss that could afford my firm and that he had been here enough times that the opulence no longer effected him. Darcie, the librarian, didn't look up from her computer as we entered her domain. “I'll be with you in just a second,” she murmured. I knew her well enough to know she was lost in her own world researching something for an attorney.

I pushed it open wider. The room was cool and dark, shelves towering like silent guardians. I flicked on one small switch on the wall, and amber lights pooled across the entire room and over the shelves. My eyes ran through the sections—romance section, classics and thrillers. I ran my fingers along the spines, looking for something thick, something to lose myself in until sleep finally came. I saw a first-edition Jane Austen. A modern dark romance with a brooding cover. It was a fantasy series Mirabel had raved about.

Two minutes later he entered to the library looking everywhere, when he spotted her he came closer. "Hey. " He said moving a chair backwards and sitting down while placing his backpack on the desk. "Hi. " "I hope you don't mind but i got ahead in the assignment. " He said placing a copy of the book "Pride And Prejudice" by Jane Austen on the desk. Its cover had a girl with brown short curly hair and wearing a pink long dress that resembled a night gown, and a bonnet in her head seated on a chair looking somewhere else. She was resting her chin on her left index finger while on her right hand she was holding what it seemed a piece of paper. The cover was attractive to Amy, who always wanted t

I have seen them exchanging glances and whispering something to each other. "Aiden, why does that girl talk to you like a rude brat? And do you know when I came to your cabin she glared at me and it seemed like she would kill me?" Darcy came into the office and sat on the couch. As usual, I avoided her words and gouged my neck on my laptop. First of all, I am occupied with my work and the second, I don't have any reason to bear her tantrum as Ariana is outside. She doesn't even come to my cabin, anymore.

I say, voice trailing off into the quiet around us. "I just always thought she'd be here with me for this." My voice is hardly more than a whisper as the words come out, and I see the tears start to fall from Mrs. Lanzetta's eyes. She and my mother were not particularly friends. Antonio never really let her have friends. However, on occasion, when the packs would get together for a King's meeting, the two of them talked often. She doesn't have time to say anything as Darcy piles through the door with a handful of dresses before her eyes land on me. Her arms drop the pile instantly when she studies the dress.

That alone was worth the tuition. Our dorm room was small but bright, with twin beds and enough closet space for maybe half of Darcy’s wardrobe. We spent the next hour unpacking. Darcy humming as she arranged her scented candles, me pretending to fold clothes when really I was deciding which corner to hide my stash of emergency chocolate in. Darcy’s phone buzzed on the desk. She glanced at the screen and let it ring. The second time it rang, I raised an eyebrow. “Zack?” Her hands stilled. For a split second, her bubbly energy faltered. “Yeah.”

I run my fingers along the spine of a first edition Austen, marvelling at the pristine condition of a two-hundred-year-old human book. The library has become my sanctuary in the twenty-four hours since Zane brought me to this gilded cage. Here, surrounded by the musty scent of aged paper and leather bindings, I can almost forget the claiming that awaits me tonight. Almost forget that I'm property now, first the Council's, now Zane's. Trading one owner for another doesn't feel like freedom, but at least books don't make demands or threats. They ask only to be opened, to be read, to be understood.

“That must have been painful. She’s spiraling with the pregnancy and abandonment. But you don’t owe her your peace, Amelia. Not after everything.” We talked for a while about Ivy’s jealousy, Gran’s letters on forgiveness, the slow progress with Scarlett. Darcy’s calm presence helped, but my eyes kept drifting to the clock. 10:47. 11:12. 11:38. Time crawled. At 11:55, I stood up. “Darcy, I lost my master key card. Can you get me a temporary one from security? I need access to some archived files.” She didn’t question it, returning quickly with the card. “Be careful,” she said softly, as if sensing something.

Charlotte’s POV It was a dreary, rainy day; the perfect day to stay inside, reading in the library. Nora and I had made our home for the day at one of the tables in the library with cups of hot cocoa and a plate of cookies between us. She sat across from me with a history book open in front of her. She was supposed to be reading about the founding Alpha families, but instead, she kept sighing wistfully, trailing her little fingers across the page.