Learned Owl Book Shop Novels & Stories

Opal Saturday afternoon brought a gentle autumn rain to Savannah, turning the cobblestone streets slick and reflective. Seeking refuge from the drizzle, I took the triplets to E. Shaver, Bookseller—a cozy, labyrinthine indie bookstore filled with the comforting aroma of old paper, leather bindings, and dark roast coffee. "Stay together, please," I instructed softly, unwrapping my damp scarf as we navigated the narrow wooden aisles. "Mommy, can I look at the space books with the giant rockets?" Oliver asked, tugging on my sleeve, his dark eyes wide with excitement.

"Do you think the herbal serum that cleared the toxic silver from my father's lungs last month was a hallucination?" Hollis winces. "No, sir. But we've been searching the black markets for over a year..." "Then we will search for another year," Celt says, his voice flat, absolute, and devoid of patience. "Find Clan." Ten minutes later, I stand inside the quiet, cavernous space of Headmistress Birdsong’s Office. A middle-aged wolf scholar named Mr. Booker sits behind a massive oak desk, surrounded by stacks of ancient parchment and glowing aura crystals. He sets down his silver pen, looking up at me with a mixture of sharp surprise and condescending doubt.

Before walking through the door I stop on the step and look up at the sign above the doorway. An old slab of wood hanging on iron chains. Two owls painted in bright green and brown sit side by side on a branch, their eyes huge and looped with crazy Celtic patterns. Swirling purple letters spell out "The Night Owl" against a dark blue backdrop, sprinkled with small golden stars. Even smaller letters in gold below say "Open 12 to 12". And below that, my gran's initials, so tiny you wouldn't notice them unless you looked really close. The bell tinkles as I go through the door. Jade smiles at me from behind the counter.

It slipped off the shelf into her waiting hand, the pages already turning to the very entry her mind was seeking. Strangely, the bird was observing her just as intently, an intelligence in its gaze as it watched the pages of the book open without her hand. She brought the book in front of her and glanced down to look at the photograph of the harpy eagle. The eyes were round and shining with intelligence, but they were not black. The eyes in the picture were a bright amber with a black pupil. She let out her breath slowly. Something was wrong with her bird.

now keep watch on the King and let me know of there are any changes in our favor ) { you mean changes in your favor, this has nothing to do with me, the council or Selene } ( bottom line, keep watch ) A little bird standing on the window sill whose presence went undetected to the two engrossed in conversation flutters it's little wings and takes flight then transforms into a snowy owl that glided through the sky before descending in the Evergreen Forest landing on the arm of her owner to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. *WHAT?!* Kavis POV

It was the only one she ever gave to me. It was a small, cream-coloured hardback book called Tropical Birds by Clive Roots . It was an ex-library book, the official stamp of Hackney Central Library just inside the front cover and a SOLD stamp underneath it in faded red. A clearly unloved book from the very few date stamps on the borrowing record, it had been sold for just twenty pence, whether to Claire or to someone else who then gifted it to her, I never knew. All I knew is that I loved it for two reasons.

It is called “The Two Doves and The Owl.” I walk into the bookstore; I begin to browse. When I cannot find anything, I inquire about the book. The elder lady greeted me warmly. I could tell she was a very sociable person, and loved to chatter with her customers when she was able to. “Oh, Two Doves and The Owl? That is very vintage. I do have a few copies. Not upstairs here but downstairs in my antique section. Let me show you.” I smiled and began to follow her.

I didn’t make it far, just up to an abandoned park, it’s where my car died, it wouldn’t start anymore but it was okay, that’s as far as I’m going from here. Lulu, my stuffed grey wolf with purple eyes was my one and only loyal friend, she was with me when I spent the six dollars, when I was too hungry and was ready to beg for food. She was also hidden in my backpack when I applied for the job in the local library, I always had a weak spot for the books and stories, when they took me I couldn’t be happier.

Trisha heard Mrs Perry complain as she glided through shelves teemed with ages-old books before she could be pulled into hours-long conversation with the old lady. She picked up a book from a dilapidated shelf, blew off the dust that had found solace on it's leather covering over the years, and squinted— because of the poor illumination, to see the books name. ‘Wizards Can Do More’ by one of the greatest wizards ever, LP Travis. It was a book she wanted but not one she needed. Hence, she put it back in its spot among other dusty books and walked to another shelf.

ARDEN “Oh crap,” I muttered under my breath when I noticed a notification from Silver Quill. It appeared that we had an activity scheduled for tomorrow, and I needed to buy a book from the local bookstore. Owen halted in his tracks and turned to me, one eyebrow arched inquisitively. “Do you know where this place is?” I asked, holding up my phone to show him the name of the bookstore. “Haven? It’s that one,” he replied, pointing towards a shop not far from us. It was only a few blocks away, which caused me to sigh in relief. “Why do you ask?”