Kindred Bookstore Novels & Stories

But cross her, hurt someone she loves, and the toy poodle turns into Cerberus. “I’m going shopping later today,” she says, coming back behind the counter and pulling a notebook out of the drawer under the register so she can start making a list. “Shopping” is code for she’s traveling to another coven to purchase magical supplies. “Do you need anything?” “Black salt and mandrake root,” I tell her quietly, eyeing the couple who went right to the romance section. We’re the only independent bookstore in the area, and after the last big chain retailer went out of business, things really picked up for us.

I found him so cool whenever he shared his faith with the whole family. I marched right up to the bays and handed my card to a teenager cashier at the counter to make a purchase. She was wearing a cute and tiny hairpin on the left side of her ear, her above shoulder-length black hair made her even more gorgeous. "Hello, Miss Astrid! It is good to see you here again." She cheerfully greeted me while placing my books on a paper bag printed with the name of the shop. "Hello, Marianne! Are you done with your class already?" She is the daughter of Mrs. Williams, who owned this bookstore.

He hangs up, and I look at the dead man on the floor. I turn my back and get into the car. - To the headquarters. The car stops on a busy street full of Macdonals and Starbucks stores, but I enter the old bookstore that no one gives a fuck about. The last book that the bookstore sold must have been in 1990, but all the shelves were full of old books without a speck of dust. I look at the man behind the counter, who greets me with a nod. Moving between the shelves, I reach the end of the hall. A bookshelf slides out of its place as if by magic, and I open the steel door that becomes visible using a retina reader and a code.

He considered that for a second, then said, “I’ll take you after school. There’s a bookstore downtown that should have it.” Hare and Fox Books took up the bottom floor of an old building on the corner, the air smelling like paper and coffee the moment we walked in the door. Damon peeled off toward the reference section. Grateful for the peace and quiet, I wandered toward the science and medical section on my own. I was flipping through a useless-for-my-needs but very pretty book with illustrations on various rare genetic disorders when Ronan Thorne’s voice said my name. “Mira Hale.” I turned. Ronan was leaning against the end of a shelf with a paperback already tucked under one arm, grinning

Nina was already at the bookstore when Liora arrived for her afternoon shift, sitting cross-legged on the counter eating a granola bar and wearing the expression of a woman who had been waiting to have a conversation for approximately fourteen hours. "Don't," Liora said. "I haven't said anything." "You have a face." "I always have a face." Nina hopped off the counter. "New development. The gossip page updated." Liora's hands stilled on her jacket zipper. "They still don't have a name," Nina said quickly. "But they have a description now. Someone talked. *Young woman, early twenties, works evenings, picked up nightly from an independent bookstore on the east side.*" She paused. "There are exa

"THANK you and have a nice day!" I smiled at the two high schoolers as I handed them the bag of comics they'd purchased in the bookstore. It was already my third day at work. Edward's Bookshop was a five-year-old bookstore located at Conrad Blvd. Aside from different types of books, the bookstore also sells comics, magazines, stationers, CDs, souvenirs, and collection items. Today, I was assigned behind the cash register. "Those teens looked smitten by you."

The cake is divine and the coffee nice and strong just as I like it. Henri tells me how they’ve got four indies signed up to come talk about their journey and has over fifty people turning up so far, with more people signing to attend ever day. That makes me smile, she is adamant to support smaller authors, I am wondering if my kid sister is writing a book and just hasn’t told anyone yet. The hour flies by way too quickly and I have no idea when I’ll next be able to see my folks. Alex’s schedule is manic to say the least but perhaps I can squeeze some time in around Thanksgiving.

I growled under my breath, veering back to look at the strip center. Then I saw it. Betty's Books…24-hr bookstore. A honk sounded from behind me. The light was green. I pulled into the turn lane, whipping a u-turn and pulling into the parking space. I got out, stepping into the empty storefront. It wasn't unusual. Who would go to a bookstore at 9 PM on a weekday? Me. That's who. The shopkeeper popped up behind a stack of books on the front desk. "Hello! Welcome in!"

With that conviction buoying her stride, Megan rounded the next corner only to pull up short at the sight of the modest storefront just ahead - Quintessential Books & More emblazoned cheerfully across its weathered exterior. Perfect timing. Shifting her sundry parcels once more, she surged forward with a determined gait, bound and determined to accomplish friend's silly errand with peak efficiency. ... I entered the quaint bookstore, the little bell over the door announcing my arrival. My eyes scanned the neatly arranged shelves, searching for Lilly's ridiculous romance novel. A kindly older woman emerged from the back room, smiling at me. "Hello dear, can I help you find anything?" "Yes, ac

It felt good to imagine being one of them again. I pulled up a list of nearby shops that were hiring. Nothing fancy. A bookstore. A small bakery. A florist. I decided to start with the bookstore. It was tucked between a laundromat and a pawn shop, the kind of place where time moved slowly. The sign read HARROW & SONS BOOKS, letters fading at the edges. I pushed open the door, and a bell chimed softly above me. Inside, it smelled of dust and old paper. A man behind the counter looked up, his glasses sliding down his nose.