Manacled Book Covers Novels & Stories

He tilts his head with concern when I look back at him. “Just promise me.” I wipe the tears from my face. “Please.” “Okay, I promise won’t get mad.” He shakes his head, not understanding why he would need to promise that. I take the dragon scale gloves from Pan and carefully unwrap the leather strings holding the bag closed. I reach inside and grab the massive book by the spine. I wait a moment to prepare myself before I slide it out onto the crystal stand. I take a sharp breath when it comes into view. It’s just as beautiful as I remember. The cursed black leather cover has a sheen of iridescent purple when it hits the light. Instead of a leather binding on the edge, I sowed it with golden

I pick up my book and look at the cover, holding it open so I don’t lose my page. The man on the cover is wearing a long blue military jacket with red trim and yellow trousers. The woman has on an elaborate gown and is leaning her head against his bare chest, her own gown falling down around her lower arms, her breasts spilling out the top like a melon cart that’s been tipped on its side.

My fingers brushed along the cracked leather as I ran through the lot, stopping at one in particular. It had a jet-black cover. No title. Just the silver crest pressed into the leather, a wolf enveloped by thirteen daggers. I cautiously pulled the book from its place. A cloud of dust billowed up into the air. The weight of it alone reminded me why De Luca only touched this book when no other option remained. I stared at the black cover for a moment. I hated this book. Hated what it represented. The De Lucas of the previous generation ruled in suspicion. Through fear. Through blood. I would never turn into that.

Feeling particularly nosey, I pulled one of the books down and looked it over. It had an olive green-colored cover with gold and black depictions drawn all over it. The edges of the pages were bright red and worn, so I knew it was a book that had been thumbed through frequently. I turned it over to look at the title and snickered at what I read: The Occult Truth of Lycanthropy. "The old man always did have an active imagination," I muttered under my breath, smiling as I put the book back on the shelf. I wiped dust from my hands onto my jeans and turned the attic blight off as I left the room. I could hear the sound of my parent's car driving up the pathand all thought of the book was gone as

Except this one had pictures in it. My fingers grabbed a handful of pages and I flipped open the book. The picture that caught my eye was of what appeared to be a woman lying on the lap of a man, while a man had his head buried in the crook of her neck. Except that her neck was covered in red, which I assumed to be blood. I flipped the page and was met with a picture of a woman and man seeming to be making love. He was above her and she had her legs wide open. Her neck was still bloody and the man's fangs were dripping in her blood.

As he grabs the orange books, he feels the hard cover and runs his hand on the embossed title – The Darkest Minds. He notices a weird symbol on its cover, it doesn’t seem to be out of the ordinary. A book has got to have an interesting cover, hasn’t it? As he opens the cover to explore its pages, something falls out – it was a bookmark. He picks it up from the floor and he presses it at the very back of the book to lessen the chance of it falling again. He feels the pages and one can tell how expensive the printing must be on this book. It doesn’t feel like ordinary paper. It is definitely something a bookworm will appreciate for the rest of their life. It's to bad, he got his hands on the s

“Excuse me?” The woman stared at her for a few more seconds before vanishing inside the store without a word. “Rude,” I muttered under my breath as I leafed through the book again before slamming it close. I was about to place it back on the shelf when I noticed I was holding an old leather-bound volume. The embossed golden letters on the cover read: Grimoire. I let out a little shriek and dropped the item as if it burned me. “Ew, ew, ew!”

, the police officer told me about the condition in which he got Andrew The police officer explained everything because of which I was really unable to understand what is exactly going on with me or with Andrew himself, so I just ended up asking the police officer to show me the cloth which he got from near the place where he got Andrew in suspicious condition So soon I was shown the cloth in which he was wrapped in means his Private parts were covered with it and not to my much amazement I came to know that it's the same cover which the book also have means the book had the cover of red color which was like a skin and same was the cloth with which his private parts were covered which starte

Johnathan asked him. “It’s back at camp. I can go get it.” Owen said. “No, you won’t be able to get out. Spelled. You are just as stuck in here as I am. Describe the book to me.” Johnathan said. “It looked ancient, and it was bound in leather. The pages were charred and there was some kind of beast on the front cover with the words carpe tenebras.” Owen said.

I moved through the restricted aisles with practiced ease — fingers brushing across forbidden bindings made from scaled parchment and memory-locked vellum. Void texts were never shelved directly. You had to know how to find the shadow behind the category. The “gap” in the ledger. The missing fifth book in a series of four. I found the gap. And pulled. The book emerged with a whisper. Bound in black leather that pulsed faintly with a heartbeat that didn’t belong to me. The cover bore no title. Only a version of her mark — the one she bore now — but older. Cruder. And surrounding it, the very same arc of the symbol you uploaded: a thin curve like a sickle, enclosing the elements.