Literary Novels To Read Novels & Stories

Emma said, walking deep into the living room. "Thanks." She walked to a set of shelves on the far side of the room, running her fingers over the spines of his books. A lot of them were classics, novels by Dickens, Voltaire, Dumas, Melville, and Hemingway. She smiled when her fingers ran over the spine of not one, but three copies of Mitchell's Gone with the Wind. There were modern novels, too, including Stephen King and Sidney Sheldon, but they didn't look as well read as some of the others.

" So, let's go. If it's important to you. What are the books? " There are two novels. Sweet Ana and The Prostitute's Secret. " Wow, I thought you were going to say The Great Gatsby or One Hundred Years of Solitude… But that's okay. " Prejudice with contemporary literature, then you? - He jokes, and his sincere smile framed by his perfect features leaves me floored for a few seconds. " That's right. I'll read them then. " Without reading reviews on the internet before. " Promise. " They're at my summer house, here at Metropolity. I can get them or… you can sleep with me tonight.

I must be the only person in my class that will read a classic novel for anything other than requirement. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew that would pick up Jane Eyre, Little Women, or Tess of the D’Urbervilles for pleasure. In fact, they were not even my first choice. Little Women came in a close second, but Pride and Prejudice will always win out. There was something beautiful about a couple from two different backgrounds traveling along the bumpy road of love until it was undeniable, and there was something even more beautiful about watching that journey happen. Flicking through the pages anxiously waiting for that sweet first kiss, the passion filled argument, the final declaration. Th

I was hoping that he didn’t have to go back to work so quickly, but I know his work is important, vital to the man I love and I wouldn’t want to ever change that. So, I settle in to make some coffee and skim my fingers over the bookshelves lining the walls in the spacious living room. I’ve never seen Gavin with a book in his hand and it surprises me that he has such a large collection. Charles Dickens, Ray Donovan, Marie Barnes, Nicholas Sparks, the authors range from one genre to another and somehow I know that most of these couldn’t be Gavin’s. I couldn’t imagine him reading a full length novel like Great Expectations. He thrives on action, solving problems, making strides in whatever he i

There's still long hours till morning. Checking the book in his hand, he discovered it to be a novel. 'The Red and the Black' by Stendhal. After checking the description of the book, he believed it wouldn't be bad to give it a try although he is not fond of reading novels. Leo prefer reading normal books, it doesn't matter which type it is as long as there are not romance books. Most of the romance books he read in the past are rather cliche, untrue and misleading because such love in books doesn't exist in this modern day society.

She asked. Tristan showed her the cover of the book. It was a literature text. Arms and the Man by Bernard Shaw. “You’re eleven.” She chuckled softly in disbelief. Tristan laughed. “It doesn’t matter. I like reading a lot. Mostly literature books.” “You’ve read Romeo and Juliet then?”. She guessed. “Yeah. I’ve read the Alchemist as well and uh pride and prejudice.” He said. “Wow." Ellie said. "I’m impressed.” “Why, thank you Mrs Sandoval.” He sent her a lopsided grin.

He also picked up the two novels of Emily Diamond that his local library had on the shelf— The Kestrel and the Children and The Star of Autumn, though he hadn't got a chance to read a single page from either of them. Not that he expected some sort of answers from this television show and these two “works of urban fantasy and magical realism” (as the publisher described the novels on the dust jacket), but he figured he should still familiarize himself with them. “Leave no stone unturned,” he muttered to himself with a small laugh. Besides, people sometimes fixated on certain works of art for a reason, and maybe he could pick up some of the psychology of the deceased girls if he immersed himse

having to work too much. She wore faded denim blue pants and a tight white t-shirt. “Note her!” Mark, buddy! I was staring at the ideal location at the nape of her neck, Luca pushed. I was unable to achieve it, though. I forced myself not to mark her at this very moment. I got up quickly and went to my office’s minibar. I needed to quench my thirst. “Whiskey?” I inquired, filling my glass with the liquor. As she walked around my office and took in the artwork on the walls, she remarked, “Hmm… Sure.” I filled our mugs, then gave her one. She took a big gulp and coughed, and I watched, laughing. Her gaze lingers on the stacks of books on my upper shelf. Great classics are Pride and Prejudice,

Salvatore asked. Alexa adjusted her napkin in her lap and contemplated her answer. “Well, I know it’s not exciting or adventurous, but I love to read.” “I think reading is quite adventurous. I enjoy it myself sometimes. What types of books do you like reading?” “I like reading all kinds of books, but literary classics are my favorite.” “Ah, Pride and Prejudice and the like?” She laughed, and he leaned closer to her. “Yes, you could say that.” “What’s your favorite book?” His gaze was locked on hers, and he was close enough she could feel the heat of his breath. He was caught up in the wonder of the moment, and she was captivated too.

A reader? I feel drawn to the shelf like a moth to a flame. My fingers trail over the spines — classic literature, philosophy, ancient history. Lost in the titles, my eyes land on a beautiful leather-bound edition of Wuthering Heights. I rise onto my toes, straining, my fingers just brushing its edge. It wobbles and then falls from the shelf with a heavy thud that sends a cloud of dust into the air making me sneeze twice.