Just Like Home Book Novels & Stories

She looks up at me when I move toward one of the shelves, picking a book at random, and sit down. “What are you doing home so soon?” “Nothing,” I reply, and it’s the honest truth. “I’m doing absolutely nothing.” I open the book, flipping through a few pages while the house whispers around us, sending a soft gust of air skittering around the room. I smooth a page down, but the spirit of the house, in a playful, annoying mood, sprints around me–a phantom of silent chaos. A single page rustles before falling flat, and it’s a picture of a forest, lightning bugs dancing, blinking in the gaps between trees.

Home sweet home. It's just so sad that I only get to spend a week and a few days at home. Phew. Done! Thanks for checking out my book, Please vote/comment if it makes even a little bit of sense. I'd really love to hear your Thoughts and suggestions on this. Xo xo.

I can’t, not if it meant I would walk around in a daze and act unnatural. “That’s fine with me. You can keep me company in the office.” He started towards it, sure I would not make a run for the door. He was by a bookshelf when I joined went to seat. He grabbed a large book and dropped it infront of me. “That’s all the entertainment I have right now. Your phone’s in your room.” “A manual on the inner workings of smart homes?” I read the title. “It’s user friendly, there’s a lot of pictures too.” His pulled his chair back and collapsed in it. I scoffed but flicked through it as he typed away on his laptop.

It had been a long time since we started the tour. I was tired, but also rather thrilled. The estate was beautiful. There were no extra pieces of furniture, only what was necessary. The last place to visit was the library. The library was huge. All the covers of the books were black. They were gorgeous. My hands itched to trace the title of the books. “Do you love books?” Dela asked. I nodded. “Back at home…” Dela held up her hand. “This is your home now. There is no other place in the world that is your home but House Silverclaw.”

“Since I'm new with the book club thing, I feel like staying with you would be of good help.” I rolled my eyes at the excuse he was using. “If the book club is the reason, you won't have to worry. I don't really do book club things in my house.” I said, teasing him. And that made him laugh, and the sound was rich echoing through my ears. He tilted his head toward me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You sound unconvincing. We know your house is like an extension of everything that happens in school. You are a complete nerd.”

We’d planned our next path more wisely and carefully, tracking the path from one town to another so to ensure we had enough time to walk during the day and find somewhere to eat and rest for the nights. We’d ended up staying at The old lantern in for just over a week, more because of the weather forecast, it had said the snow would completely stop and the sun would be out meaning spring was definitely on its way. The day before we leave I remember Flos book in my bag and take the opportunity to have a look through it. It was a book inside a book, it looked as though she’d already filled one so had bought another to carry on her story. The fist part of the book brought me to tears, with the w

Everything looks exactly as it should be. **I promised a gift. Something simple. Meaningful. This book was my favorite as a kid. My mom read it to me every night. It’s the first thing I remember feeling safe with. Loved with. Home with.** **I want Emma to have that. Safety. Love. Home. Things I couldn’t give you. Things Lucian can. Things you both will.** **I’m doing well. Boston’s good. Job’s challenging. Sobriety’s holding. Therapy’s helping. I’m becoming someone I can respect. Finally. After years of being someone I couldn’t stand.**

Hillary Home. I used to think home was like a house where your mom and dad and immediate family lived. I don’t think so anymore. I think home is wherever you want it to be. Wherever you have gotten so used to and comfortable in. And there can be more than one home. Home is not a building; sometimes it’s not even the people—it’s just you.