Leather Pocketbook Novels & Stories

It had always been a favorite of mine when I had some extra cash. I walked into the store and the smell of beautifully tanned leather rolled over me. I wandered from display to display, taking my time to look at everything. Unfortunately, it seemed that since my last visit, Coach had moved into the flashy, trendsetting looks of other handbag companies. Not a single piece of English Tan leather anywhere. It irritated me irrationally that I wanted a nice, classic leather bag, and everything they had was silver lamé and patchwork tacky.

"Well...you left in such a hurry earlier that I forgot to give you something important." As he spoke, he carefully took out a rectangular object wrapped in soft cloth from an old fabric bag he carried with him. Unwrapping it revealed a handwritten manuscript bound in worn leather. The pages were yellowed with age, the edges rough with time, and faint traces of faded gold illumination could still be seen on the title page. Liam glanced at it. "A book?"

I stood up, my gaze drifting down to admire the way the heels elongated my legs, creating a stunning line from hip to toe. Next, I reached for my small, sleek clutch bag, its black leather exterior gleaming in the soft light. I opened the delicate silver clasp and slipped my phone, lip balm, and credit cards inside. The clutch was just large enough to hold the essentials, its compact size perfect for a night out.

She slid open the glass door and went into the clothes and accessories room facing different sections of the room with Bran’s wears, Sophia’s wears, another section for Bran’s shoes and Sophia’s shoes, and another section for Sophia’s handbags. Then a glass drawer-like compartment filled with Bran’s wristwatches, rings and neckties, then another section in the compartment was filled with Sophia’s jewelries, wristwatches and silk scarves. She carefully skimmed through the section for the clothes as she hoped to find something and at that moment, she found a brown leather laptop bag. Henna pulled it out and placed it on the compartment for jewelries as a platform to open the bag up and then sh

"Take it off and we'll—" "Mama look at my pockets!" Liam came around the corner of the changing room area at speed, wearing a dark navy coat with his hands shoved into the pockets and his gray eyes bright with the specific triumph of someone who has found exactly what they required, and he stopped in front of her and demonstrated the pockets by producing from one of them a small paperback he had apparently been carrying in his jacket the entire morning. "See?" he said. "It fits." "I see," she said. "That's perfect. Take it off and—"

There are drawings of the house, more of us. In the bottom drawer, buried under a bunch of pencil sharpeners and other tools, there’s a leather bound book. Almost like a journal. There’s a design on the front of it that nearly reminds me of the Midnight Protector’s logo but far more intricate. It’s hand sewn in the same color as the leather.

She wondered if he might have a money belt under his shirt, but his slender form sure didn’t look like it. Dominic stood up and extracted an old brown leather wallet from his back pocket. No, not really a wallet, Leesa thought. It was a little too big to be called a wallet, and it had an inch-wide strap and a brass clasp that kept it closed, like a purse. Yet it was too small to be considered a purse. Whatever it was, it was clearly very old—the leather was dark and lined with age. Surprisingly, the corners showed no wear at all. And though she had just seen Dominic pull it from his pocket, it now looked too large to have fit in there.

But she could not choose that way if Yvette was here. “Actually, in these recent times, wallets have been the best-selling item. It is simple yet presentable. It is definitely an excellent choice.” The salesgirl was enthusiastic as she walked around the counter, took out a wallet, and showed it to Raine. “You may consider this model, young lady.” The luster of the leather was just right. It was not too over-the-top, nor did it look dull. The flower-branch pattern added a noble and elegant touch to the wallet, which was highly presentable.

I took the carry bag, which was the size of a small handbag. “Its royal visage’s latest fit-it-all made of the finest griffin leather. It has unlimited storage capacity, just like your card’s spending limit, dear sir,” the owner addressed Ezra. “It can store everything you put in it while keeping the weight to a constant of half a kilogram. Not to forget how classy and premium it looks when your wife holds it in her hand.” “That will actually come in handy today. We have a lot to buy. Thanks, so thoughtful of you,” Ezra said, and we walked out of the store.

I glance at the first pocket to see everything everywhere. Nope, not it. No, that’s her makeup bag. Is this it? Nope, that’s her notes. “What pocket is it in?” I ask, already done looking at the first one. “I think it’s in the second one. Or was that my hair products pocket? Try checking it just in case.” I unzip it as it unleashes a pack full of hair accessories, combs, and an iron curl. “Amber, I don’t think it’s in this one. It’s too full.”