Life Books To Read Novels & Stories

Agbai said. "His lifestyle or morals has nothing to do with his economics," I said. "Okay, I agree with you on that one. Um... You said you read Nigerian books, which one have you guys read." "Chimamanda's Purple Hibiscus, Americana, a whole lot," I said. "But I like Wole Soyinka's A Dance In The Forest and..." I paused to think of the other book. "Things Fall Apart," Raymond added. "Yes, that's it. Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart." I said.

I missed my mate, my freedom, my friends, Kailin, and everyone at the vineyards. I watched a series about a group of delinquent kids born in space and dropped to Earth to see if the air was already breathable. I finished Episode twelve, and when a particular character pissed me off, I turned it off and went to read something in the study. There were some fiction books, but primarily old books from Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Herman Melville. There were self-help and meditation books and a book about mystical creatures. I walked out of the study. If she allowed me to read a book about witchcraft, it might interest me, but that would be as dangerous as walking into the darkness without

Looking around, I saw that there's a lot of bookshelves around here, plus a bean bag area for the people who prefer to read their books here. How amazing is this place! So warm and cozy. My mom would be happy to be here. I proceeded to the Fiction Section, it is my favorite genre ever since. While looking for a good book to read, there's this book that caught my attention, it absolutely doesn't belong in this category. It was at the back of all the books in here. Maybe others were just too lazy to put it back on its designated shelf. The book was entitled: How To Save A Life. It was about a girl who had her heart broken by a jerk, started rebuilding herself, but decided to end her life after

When my shift ended, I found myself walking toward the corner table where Kael sat, his laptop closed now, a book in his hands. I stopped short when I saw the cover. ‘Knot We Cannot Untie.’ That was the book he was holding. I can't believe that Kael would be reading one of Linda Lively’s books. “You read… this?” I said, the surprise evidently in my voice. Kael looked up, one brow raised. “Why? You think I only read racing magazines and bank statements?” I gave a small laugh. “Chill bro. It’s just… not what I was expecting ”

I start picking through the small pile of dusty books finding mostly descriptions of executions—infant executions. These aren’t informational books, they’re histories, and our history is darker than I knew. Abominations or not, I don’t think I could kill a child in the crib. Hundreds of stories, hundreds of lives snuffed out, but then how many lives did their sacrifice save? What monsters would these children have become? By the time I’ve finished the third book, I’ve learned nothing, and I’m not sure I can take anymore. I eye the fourth and final book. It’s older than the rest from the look of it. The title scrolled across its cracked leather binding long faded and eligible.

Jane’s POV “The book of life isn't a single book?” I voiced my thoughts, unable to hold it in anymore. With everything they had been saying, it wasn't just the truth anymore, it was layers of truth. Secrets buried beneath secrets. As we uncovered one, we found another. And it made everything more complicated. “The Book of Life isn’t just one,” Liam said, his voice steady but serious. “There are five.” Five? My eyes widened in shock as the number echoed in my head.

They'd read 9 Lives, 10 Circles, and been tested on it. He wished he had a copy right now. It was a fiction book about one tom's attempt to gain an audience with the Black Devil. It read like a tour guide of the Underworld, down to the minutest detail, when it didn't go into the scratchings of the main character's slowly twisting mind.

I need to take time. I remember the small room I entered last time. I slowly opened the door and turned on the lampshade. The books on the table were still scattered. I tried to look and read each one of them. These are all interesting books. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a lot more. I tried to find something that might help me, but I found nothing.

a plain, simple office. Still, I'm curious. I wander over to the bookshelves, surprised to see how many books Rafe has - he never struck me as much of a reader - but his collection is wide and varied. There's an entire shelf full of classic novels. Another of photography and art books. There's a section devoted to mechanical skills, another full of books on fitness, weight-training, and other similar pursuits. The more I look, the more interesting the books become - next to the atlases and travel guides are books on astronomy and space travel. Beside the books on filmmaking are biographies of famous people from all walks of life - not just Hollywood types but also philosophers, scientists, a

But how dare he create a journal when she's not the subject of all his novels. The contents of the journal are surely bothering her. The uneasy feeling of opening the first page of a book that contains secrets to one's life is nerve-wracking. Like unfolding the mysteries of an ancient civilization. 'To the stranger who saved me from drowning in love, Shanta.' Kachina winces at the acknowledgement section. She turns to the next page and finally comes across a chapter where she sees a familiar name that made her jump in joy and curl in sadness. 'Kachina... Kachina left me.'