Mao Mao Apothecary Diaries Novels & Stories

MADDIE May 9th 2018 The potent aroma of sex fills my airways. The need to get up and walk out is paralyzing. There's a strong, stinging sensation simmering in the back of my throat and my poor stomach demands to rid itself of this morning's contents. My eyes threaten to leak tears of torture and the desire to throw up prevails. I clamp my hand over the bottom half of my face, trying to block the musky odour from punishing my senses any further.

Those thoughts filled her mind. So today, she would finally do something about it. She had bought a brand new diary from the store. It was a special one. With leather on it and a strange P monogrammed on the cover. It was far fancier than anything the Dollar Tree should be selling. Finding it was a score that had Kristen grinning. She was enamored with her new diary. She was eager to get started on it. The diary was thick, too. She could write so many of her naughty ideas in them.

I didn’t pull away. Inside, the space was part café, part apothecary. Soft harp played from somewhere overhead, and the space smelled like cloves, orange zest, and warm bread. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above mismatched tables, hovering in the air, the crystals changing colors every time it moved. Wooden shelves were lined with dried herbs, spellbooks, and little cauldrons painted in pastels. The little jars were labeled things like moonlace powder and dragon’s breath salt. The tables were hand-carved and mismatched, each one paired with two plush chairs.

“Really?” “Yes. And I just told Juste about it a while ago. Now, for the next ingredient…” Maxill closed his eyes and mentally envisioned the look and shape of the diary of Juste’s mother. He then imagined it to flip through the mental pages to look into its contents. Lo and behold, Maxill had quite an accurate depiction of the diary. He recited the poem to Juste and Chastine, all from memory: “root of red, drool of flesh, tall as pillar

He three his phone on her lap. His hand roamed around the car as his eyes were carefully focused on the wall. They were not so wide and it was a town people did not visit often so crashing into something in that place was definitely not going to help. He opened a box he found besides him and searched if there was any Advil. To his dismay, it was full of things that felt like napkins. ‘Sh*t, it’s the tissue box.’ He thought to himself. “What’s the p-password?” She breathed out forcefully as she shifted in her seat.

"Yes?" "I am sleepy" Aldrich rubs his eyes. Aubrey takes that diary. "Let's go" Aubrey put Aldrich to sleep and come into the room. [I have to hide this] She hides the diary in the wardrobe. She plopped on the sofa. What she read roamed in her mind. [He hates grandma? Is he talking about me? I never know he pays attention to me. Did he always do that? Did he---]

With a total of 100 mage coins at hand, Audrey started on her shopping spree. She and Niccoli visited different emporiums. 'Magus Athenaeum' was written majestically at the entrance of the first shop that they visited. As a new student, obviously they have to buy the book for their studies. So it is normal that their first stop will be a book store. There are a total of six books listed on the paper given to them and they look around the library for these specific books. Meanwhile, the library was divided into different sections and they were neatly separated by subject. The bookshelves for Herbology and Beasticology for the study of mystical plants and magical beast respectively were placed

{Dominic} Doctor Maek’s office always smelled like copper and cold incense. I stepped inside, my boots thudding against the checkered stone tiles as the door swung shut behind me. The old mage sat in his chair and began scribbling something on a parchment and muttering inaudibly. “I’m pretty sure you already know why I want to see you.” I said as calmly as I could. His pen stopped, and he sighed, letting it go, but it remained upright. He folded his fingers in between each other and placed them on top of the desk before him. “I’m aware, Alpha Bloodhound.”

The key opens a secret door in the basement which depends on you; are you going to allow humans to enter? The diary, you need it to trace the day, month or year, it is a mysterious diary only given to generations. There is a bunch of it in the secret door. They’ll appear to you if you plan to have a family. Lastly this pocket watch, it will let you travel anytime. Literally, any TIME. Sam we’re immortals... There are a few of us living in this planet. At his first day during 1940, he noticed that the fields were no longer emerald. Houses and establishments were built all over.

He shoves the heavy thing inward, steps back, nods toward the dark within. A space like this isn’t some dark chamber underground. This place holds books, yes - but nothing like the quiet halls I know. Different somehow, right from the first step inside. A circle of walls holds shelf after shelf, rising from floor to ceiling, made of deep-toned timber. Not filled with old poems or dusty histories wrapped in leather. These are diaries. Row upon row, possibly endless, uniform in shape, covered in dull gray fabric. In the middle stands one massive table - carved from ancient black wood - bathed in a pale green shine cast by glowing spheres sealed in glass boxes. Scattered throughout: diagrams of