Leather Pocketbook Novels & Stories

“I thought it might help… you know, survive the next adventure in that old jacket of yours.” Dominus didn’t speak, only accepted the bag, his grip tightening slightly as he looked up at me. “Open it,” I prompted, a soft nudge in my tone. He hesitated, then slowly pulled at the handles, revealing the contents. His eyes widened, then softened. Inside lay a brand-new black leather jacket. Sleek, matte-finished, with the multiple pockets he always insisted on. It was perfect—the kind he would’ve chosen for himself, even better than the old one he clung to.

The paper felt fresh and crisp between my fingers, the texture satisfying and tactile. I put the cash in my pockets, carrying a sense of justice, of vindication. The mass of bills flopped comfortably into my pocket, it felt reassuringly weighty as if justifying my actions. I turned to my bag- now slung over my shoulder, where its strap found its way back into a familiar groove. The bag of leather was soft and supple, seeming to mold itself more to my shoulder, which was a more comfortable and familiar presence. I started going out of the office and extending long, empty hallways before me.

Each garment was made from the finest fabrics - silk, cashmere, and buttery soft leather - and meticulously crafted to ensure a perfect fit. The handbags were truly a sight to behold. They were lined up in neat rows on a long shelf underneath the hanging clothes. Priscilla had a bag for every occasion - clutches for elegant evenings out, oversized totes for shopping, and sleek cross-body bags for running errands around town. Each one was a work of art, adorned with gleaming hardware and made from the most supple, luxurious leather.

and bailed out. The pungent scent of pot smoke wafted out of Mike’s truck as Brandt opened the door. A roach clip dangled from the rearview mirror, weighted with feathers and skinny strips of leather. He pushed aside food wrappers and empty beer cans until he found a small bright orange fanny pack. Since he’d forgotten to ask specifics about size and color, he unzipped the main compartment. His hand froze. It wasn’t the unopened package of condoms that snared his interest, but the hand-tooled leather wallet.

To a stranger, it looked like a weathered rock with two small, oval craters—just natural erosion. I opened my locket and pulled out the tiny, intricate key. My hands were trembling so much I almost dropped it. I pressed the key into the center of the craters and turned. Click. A small, perfectly concealed stone flap groaned open. Inside, wrapped in heavy plastic to protect it from the Pennsylvania damp, was a thick, leather-bound book. Carter’s Ledger. I pulled it out, my breath catching in my throat. I opened the first page, the ink faded but legible.

] "Which do you prefer---flat shoes, boots, or heels, Ma'am?" "BOOTS!" She answered in excitement. The clerk smiled at her and guided her to the boots section. She has chosen a white brown laced and high-heeled boots. A clerk suggested a cute, white, leathered backpack to her. And it seems long-lasting. It's kind of heavy maybe because it was leather. It can fit many notebooks there and has pockets for miscellaneous things. She can even put a laptop there. The clerk said that a laptop is often used there. Especially for researching and making reports.