Julia London Books Novels & Stories

“What do you think?” I didn’t answer. I’m busy admiring everything in silence. The bed also carried an elegant canopy, one in dark colors. The sheets had an amazing rose embroidery. The closet looked gigantic, with an innate elegance. My room was the only one that had a bookstore, so I assumed Donovan had investigated me in some way. A rose rested on the comb, so I went over to take it between my fingers. “It’s beautiful,” I sighed. “It’s totally Juliet!” Julia exclaimed.

Clara was gone. But she hadn't been erased. In the center of the pier, resting on the weathered wood, were Two Copper Rings. They weren't charred. They were polished, shining in the first light of a new, terrestrial dawn. And beside the rings was a single, physical book. The one from the London library. Hope picked it up, her fingers trembling as she opened the cover. Inside, in Julian’s sharp, executive hand and Clara’s flowing, teacher’s script, was a single note:

She did wear glasses, but always had the best frames, the ones that enhanced her fox-like face more than detracting from it. 'I never read anything by her.' I remarked. 'She's a bit like Kelly Link, or Caitlin R Kiernan.' Lacey answered, turning back to look at me. 'Just as weird, but not quite as good.' Julia said, from where she was sitting beside me. Julia was the punk/artsy friend, and, unlike Lacey, she looked exactly like you'd expect. Right down to the dyed pixie cut. 'I never read them either.' I admitted. Though I did read some Caitlin Kiernan later on, something about messed up kids in Alabama and angels and spider creatures. It was good, but Julia was right, it was weird as hell.

"I don't want him to hate me again... " "This will be the last time we'll see each other. I hope to see you finally at home, sister." Julia felt hands that caress her face before it turned into a white butterfly. She opened her eyes and saw the butterfly leaving through her half-open window. She stood up and saw that a locket dropped on the floor. "What is this?" She saw a small book that contains a spell for various sorceries. She almost dropped the book when someone knocked on her door. "I am not even drinking coffee these days, yet I get easily startled," says Julia while heading towards the door to see who's knocking.

Julia gasped slightly before her eyes focused on Lila, widening in amazement. "Lila! "I wasn't expecting you here," Julia said cautiously. Lila reached into her bag and pulled out a worn notebook, quickly scrawling a response. “I got your letter. Even after Trent crumpled it, I read every word.” Julia's expression crumpled with remorse and anger as she took in the implication of Lila's words. "That vile piece of trash dared defile my letter?" she said through gritted teeth. "Lila, I am so sorry. But please know I meant every sentiment wholeheartedly."

Her wedding ring was gone, replaced by a cheap silver band she’d bought at a gas station. "You’re staring at the wall again, Claire." Elena jumped, her hand instinctively flying to her stomach. Julian stood by the history stacks, looking entirely out of place in his tailored wool coat. "You shouldn't come here," Elena whispered, her voice trembling. "People talk in this town. A man like you—you look like trouble." Julian pulled a book from the shelf—The History of Maritime Disasters—and flipped through it without looking at her. "I am trouble. But I’m also the only reason you aren't a headline in the city. How is the head?"

~ Lily ~ I couldn’t stop trembling. It had been two hours since Julian left my office, and each time my shaky hands reached for my coffee, panic grips me. His words kept repeating in my head: “I saw them, Lily. At the mall.” He said. How did he find them so quickly? He was Julian Stone, so why wouldn't he? He owns the city. I had taken every precaution over the last six years. I chose London to be far from the Stone family. I changed my name, created a new life, and built walls I thought were high enough to keep Julian and his world out.

There was no chaos, no gossip, no shadows of the past, just him, me, and the kind of quiet that felt like peace. On Sunday, I visited Julien with Oliver. The morning light was soft. Oliver ran off almost immediately to play with the little model jets Julien kept on a shelf, while Julien stood waiting with a mysterious bag in his hand. “It was delivered this morning,” he said, eyes glinting with that boyish secret he could barely hide. “What is it?” I asked, taking the bag. “Open it.” I lifted out a stack of seven hardcover books, sleek, matte, and beautifully bound. Each had a country’s name embossed on the front in gold letters: Tokyo. Italy. Egypt. Cape Town. Dubai. Maldives. Paris.

door at the back of the library. ​She threw the door open. ​Julian and Leo were there, but they weren't sitting on the floor anymore. They were standing in front of a massive, glass window that looked out onto a London that was Vanishing. ​Buildings were being replaced by "Error 404" blocks. The sky was turning into a "Blue Screen of Death." ​"Nora!" Julian turned, his eyes full of the 180 volumes of history. He looked at her, and the recognition was so deep it felt like a physical blow. "You're here. But the world... the world is closing."

But she… didn’t flinch. Lena walked over to a little table display and picked up a thin, cloth-bound book. She walked over to him, holding it out like an offering. *The Quiet Between Lightning Strikes.* A poetry book. The cover was old and nubbly, the title scribbled in fine silver ink. Julian stared at it like it was an alien thing. "What's this?" "A book," she said, smiling. "I told you. I don't—"