Keeper Of The Lost Cities Book Covers นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"Let's see what was worth hiding." He pulled the first book over. It was a ledger of some sort, boring and financial. He set it aside. He reached for the second book. It was smaller, bound in cracked red leather. There was no title on the spine, but the cover... Jael went still. "Amalia," he said softly. "Look at this." Amalia leaned in, swallowing a bite of her sandwich. Burned into the leather cover was a drawing. It was stylized, ancient, but the subject was unmistakable. A wolf. A wolf with fur depicted by jagged, flame-like strokes.

Only a steady presence, like the second beat of a quiet drum. The clerk returned with an armful of volumes and a few rolled maps. “These are from the old catalogs. The Church sealed many of the oldest records, but these were permitted for scholars.” “Thank you.” He laid out a book bound in dark hide. The cover had no title. Inside, an engraving showed scales crossed by a circle. Her breath caught. The caption read: Equinox, She Who Measures.

Every story has a beginning, some good, some bad, mine has never been a happy one, no matter who, or how I tell it, nobody will believe me. I can't rely on the people in my life, My parents ignore me, or are cruel to me, my friends are unreliable, and aren't trustworthy either. So what happens when I turn 16 years old, and run away from my problems to another world, only to find myself in the same magical world I played make belief in as a kid? With heartbreak at every turn, and a possible new relationship on the horizon, what could possibly go wrong in this world that hasn't happened to me on Earth?!

Just a crescent white moon etched in the center of the cover. My fingers close around it. It’s cold. I glance back at Alex and Ava. They’re speaking in low voices, Alex watching her like a hawk. Good. I open the book, flipping through pages quickly. Hand written text in cursive with black and white pictures of symbols, and unknown diagrams fills the worn page. I squint my eyes and look through the small text until I find what I'm looking for. Mana Wolves. The words almost glow on the page. My heart skips a beat. This is it.

And I hated just how natural command looked on him, and how much I understood why they obeyed. My hand found a spine I had not meant to touch. The Lunar Trials: Forgotten Queens of the Northern Packs. I read the title twice before my fingers closed around the book. Forgotten queens. The word lodged in my throat like a promise. The cover was heavy, dark blue leather, silver faded to pewter. When I opened it the scent of old paper rose up, dust and ink and something older. I found myself getting lost as I stared at the page for a second, and it was then that I genuinely forgot that I was in the Alpha’s office at all.

“Just somewhere else.” Walking across the room, the Luna Queen Mother pulls a large book from a shelf and brings it back to set down on the table before us. Inside is a collection of oversized maps, each one with a thin sheet of overlay. Familiar names like Phoenix, Sacramento, Moon River City, Crescent City, Boston and others appear on the headers, each page showing a detailed aerial view of the outlined cities and areas.

The city beyond the alley was waking: sirens dopplering closer, helicopters thudding overhead, but here, in this crater of our making, time was a held breath, a heartbeat skipped, a promise broken. I reached for the book. The cover bit me. Not metaphor. Teeth: tiny, needle-sharp, made of red thread, sank into my fingertips, drawing blood that the leather drank like a sponge. The title flared, the letters rearranging into a new line: ALEXANDER KANE: THE FIRST BET. Elena’s gasp was a knife to my gut. “Alexander, don’t…”

I returned a favoring smile to her by doing it genuinely before I took the book on her soft palm, an almost thick book with a blue cover. The book is heavy. On the front cover, there is a closed eye with long black thick lashes in a form of feathers placed inside a pentagon. Outside the badge has a wonderful abstract ocean and sunrise. Below it, golden embossed letters are shining to make its cover spectacular: BOOK OF A ZONER "Begin reading from page two to page five," Psyche said to me, stopping me in amazement. So I did what she wanted me to do. I flipped the pages until I reached the second page of the book. I started reading what's on it.

Stamped into the cover was a symbol: an eye inside a triangle, surrounded by curling, intricate lines that almost seemed alive. “What is this?” Leila asked, keeping her voice steady. Christina gave her a look that said she was either testing her or trying to decide how much to say. “This,” she said at last, “is why you’ve been dodging mustard jackets and cleaning up after dead archaeologists.” Leila’s heart skipped a beat. She sat down, sliding the book toward her. It was heavier than it looked, its weight a promise of bad news. “Oh my! Explain,” she said, flipping it open.