Mary Book Novels & Stories

He sank down into the chair while she perched on the arm like some sort of strange, exotic bird. Internally, I sighed. I really wanted to be alone with my books, but I also didn’t want to be rude to any members of the pack after they had been so welcoming. “Are you here to read?” I inquired, drawing on the years of manners that had been beaten into me at the Silver Crescent. Mary let out a high, girlish laugh. “Read? Goddess, no!” She shot Bryan a conspiratorial glance, not bothering to hide the mischief in her eyes. “We want your help.”

Marilyn’s POV The library smelled like dust and old pages, a scent I secretly enjoyed even though I never admitted that to Caroline. She was already stacking books in her arms, her blonde curls bouncing as she moved shelf by shelf. I laughed knowing she would never be able to finish reading all those books today. “Take a look at this one, are you sure you don’t want it?” She called out, waving a massive hardcover book titled “ lunar legends and lore” I raised an eyebrow. “ Come on Caroline, you know I don’t go for such.”

The moment Mara watched someone walk into the barrier and choose their own end. Lines about the monster’s hands shaking as he reached for her. When the ache got too tight in her chest, she printed the pages and carried them to the couch. “Reader intermission?” she said. Corvin took the stack, marking his place in his book with a finger. He read quickly when he wanted to. His eyes tracked the lines, brow furrowing and smoothing in shifts. At a line where Mara described the monster’s eyes as “red enough to burn, but not as bright as the guilt clawing his insides,” he huffed.

Mary looked around at the colorful flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. “Wow. It’s beautiful.” A thought suddenly crossed her mind. “Aren't Grandpa and Dad around?” Barbra smiled calmly. “No, they both went out. I am currently the only one in the mansion.” Mary nodded in understanding. “Aren’t you bored, though? I mean, you are the only one here in this huge mansion. Don’t you ever feel like leaving the house sometimes?” Barbra gave a small chuckle. “I do, my dear. But that was when I was younger.”

Mara said. The room went very quiet. Not outside quiet, inside quiet, the kind that happens when something in your chest stops moving for a second before it remembers how. "That's not a first name," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt. "No. She never gave me a first name. Just Venn, like it was the only piece of herself she was willing to hand over." Mara reached into the pocket of her cardigan and produced a small book, worn soft at the corners, the kind of book that had been carried a long time. She opened it to a page near the middle and slid it across the table.

"Oh, you noticed. But it isn't something you should worry about, you know. Your dad just needs some time. He'll come around." It was something she was telling herself too. Something she wished would happen soon. "Okay, mommy." Maryam picked up her book. "What are you reading?" asked May, trying to start up a new conversation. She didn't see the book's title because half of the purple cover was peeled off. "Purple Hibiscus," Maryam replied excitedly. "Written by Chimamanda Adichie, my favorite author," she added. "Isn't that too much for you? Do you even understand a word?" May thoughtfully asked.

“Whoosh!” The objects jiggled a little at the swift jounce of sea wind blowing in constantly through her window. “Sigh!” She receded to snuggle again amongst her two fat kapok pillows after the diffusing sunlight struck her flushed cheeks and humid forehead. “I can’t get up!” It was so bright outside her windows and she stared inanely at the bare ceiling but moped when she cast her eye over a potbellied piggy-bank glistening amidst the first level of a three-rowed bookshelf, “I love you, my Precious Piggy-bank. The grocery store attendant is a liar and my mother and Celeste believed her because she is pretty...They haven't found anything in my hand,” said Maria dramatically for her

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.

I remember how amazed she looked as she stared out the window of my office, admiring the view. Mark's office was the complete polar opposite of mine. It was located centrally in the building, meaning that there were no city views. Not only that, but his walls were void of any emotion, not that my office had any either. But his were worse. He had floor-to-ceiling whiteboards used to keep track of all the marketing projects on the go. His office was also quite noisy since it was in the middle of the hub of the marketing department. It was like trying to work in the middle of an airport as opposed to in a secluded office space. I knew she had to be lying when she said she liked working there mo

I grumbled to myself as I slumped on a rock, giving up on moving any further in the dark. There were plenty of branches around that had fallen from the trees, and I thought for a moment about making a fire and possibly cooking something over it. "Oh, get real, Mara!" I snapped as I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to hold on to what little heat I had left. "You are not a girl scout and wouldn't know how to hunt unless it was on a good bargain for the meat you cook on your stovetop."