Literally Dead Book Club Novels & Stories

Pulling out a chair by the table, I press on, “Hey, Tilly. I need to talk to you about Ginger.” Luca tugs a book from the shelf closest to him. On the cover is an illustration of an old man with a bushy beard holding what looks like a spear. The book is titled Death to Those Who Sleep. “Brutal,” Luca murmurs, stuffing it back. “Tilly?” I try again. Luca falls down on a seat across from me, snorting. “What sort of stupid name is Tilly? Kind of reminds me of a—” A sturdy, thick, leather-bound book flies from a shelf and hits Luca on the back of the head. He bolts up from the chair he’s been sitting on, spitting out a slew of a colorful choice of words worthy to land him detention. “What the he

I said. As we start going through the shelves, Nyx starts getting anxious. ‘What’s going on, Nyx?’ ‘We have incoming, Thalia. You better get ahead of it.’ I grabbed abuelo’s arm, ‘what kind of incoming?’ ‘An attack is coming, like right now.’ She said and she is pacing in my head. “Abuelo, Nyx says an attack is coming right now.” I said and we rushed out of the library. ‘Isaiah?!’ I called out in the mind link.

“See… I have good ideas too.” Ivy smiled and elbowed him. ⸻ The library was silent in that thick, sacred way only old libraries could be. Dust floated in shafts of evening sunlight. Rows upon rows of books towered around them, heavy with secrets. Kyle picked up a dusty tome titled “Herbal Remedies and the Curse of the Alder Witches” and flipped it open. “I think this one just tells you how to make soup that kills people slowly,” he muttered. “Useful for finals week,” Ivy said, scanning her own book.

“That’s why the council buried it. Because it’s a suicide pact for anyone dumb enough to try.” Cassie reaches for the book with measured care, turning the pages as if they might combust. “No one ever said the old ways were kind, Lyla. Just that they worked.” She taps a passage written in a different hand—sharper, almost angry. “‘Should the fated succeed, they shall be as one. Should they fail, they are doomed to roam as beasts, unclaimed by moon or pack for all time.’”

I don't know when Elijah will act, especially since he does a lot. I would like to see the room where history repeats itself." I answered him. I wasn't sure if he was getting that or if he understood differently. "Are you referring to the library room?" It asked me. He frowned because of my question. I shook my head. "A room where history is etched," I told him again. Rafi thought before speaking. "Do you mean the grave?" He said as if he remembered something. I wondered, even more, why it was said to be a grave. I'm looking for a room and not a cemetery.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck. The fork wedged itself halfway between the bars and kept Mr. Who hanging impaled. It was a macabre sight that burned into my soul in all its cruel details. I didn't really care that this Proles was dead. It was Nick's behavior that worried me. Sure, this world was completely broken and people had always done strange things, but this one right now ... I just didn't know how to classify it. "Thanks for coming," Nick said quietly.

They couldn't have been more than fifteen years of age and were both intelligent looking. "We are the new fates, brothers Jackson and Nowell and you two are Rai, the Grim Reaper and Sebastian, a Death & Life soul cultivator, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Jackson stated and presented his open hand to us as he stepped closer. Rai shook it first and said we needed to clean up the mess. "We will deal with it, you both enjoy your newly engaged selves," Jackson grinned. We both thanked them profusely and stood back as they waved their hands over the corpses and the bodies and blood all vanished.

The invitation arrives via email. It's from Lisette. The subject line says: "Book Club - You Should Come." And the message is typical Lisette. Direct. No preamble. Just: "I started a book club. First month we're reading your book. You should come read to us." I call her immediately. "You started a book club and didn't tell me?" I ask. "I'm telling you now. It's six women. We meet once a month. This month we're reading your book because it's important and it's brilliant and I want to talk about it with people who will actually understand why it matters."

0, was filled with exchanges between the ladies during the day. I scrolled through it, reading each text. There was no mention of the video of my torture that was sent to the previous group chat, which was a huge relief, but the ladies did talk about me, some of them wondering when I was going to give them the book recommendations I was about to give them that night before disaster struck. They were being sweet, saying they needed the next book to read for their book club, the one I was now a member of, and said I was the one who was going to choose it for them. They were being adorably nice, and I was in for it. But before I could think about giving them a recommendation from the long list

Which in English meant : The story of a dead woman. Dad was never one to read books so why would he keep a book that had a creepy title hidden inside his drawer? Curiosity got the best of me, making me pick up the book and sit down in Dad's office chair as I opened the book where I was immediately met by the first chapter. Chapter One: Le jour de ma première mort It was never easy to make a life changing decision but I never knew how that felt… because I never made my own decisions. Not once.