Mary Book Novels & Stories

“Peace is a living thing. It needs tending.” ~ The house glowed with the last breath of night. The embers in the hearth pulsed red, their light crawling across the stone floor in slow, flickering ribbons. I entered the great room to find Mara sitting near the fire, her shoulders wrapped in a wool blanket, her hair loose and shadowed by the soft flame. A half-finished stack of council notes sat beside her, ink smudged where her hand had dragged across the parchment. She rubbed her temple with two fingers, lost in thought.

"I'm just like you. This is my first time in this way." Now Manuela was really confused. "But, jeez," she gushed. "You know all the right things to do to get me hot. And that dildo in your purse? Where did you learn it all if you're just a virgin and with other chicks as I am?" "I read about it.... a lot," Marika said. "You can get more out of books than just good grades, you know. Like shaving your pussy to make it more sensitive. Or that weird stuff I pulled on Jerry or here with you. It's all in books. If anybody ever did it, somebody wrote about it. You just have to know where to look."

“I’ll ring these up and bill Master McCabe.” “Oh, that’s not necessary. I can afford a couple of books myself.” Hana tried to stop Finch, following him to the register. “So…did we stop here for Hana to get her ancient book fix? And oo those look interesting. You’re sharing.” Pam asked, leaning on the counter to see what books Hana was getting. “This book itself is two hundred dollars.” Finch held up the first edition of Jannot: A French Rabbit by Mireille Marokvia. “And this one is five hundred twenty-five.” He held up the copy of The Birth, life, and Acts of King Arthur by Thomas Malory.

It took me a moment to place the unfamiliar voice, but it hit me just as the doorknob began to turn. Mara. My new “handmaid.” The door slowly opened, and I sat up quickly, hurrying to hide the book. The last thing I wanted right now was for nayone to question why I was reading an ancient book on reincarnation, so I quickly grabbed it and looked around, then shoved it under the mattress just as the bedroom door fully opened. Mara stepped in. She was already fully dressed in her crisp uniform, her hair pulled back into a neat bun, with the same overly pleasant expression on her face as yesterday.

Hey beautiful people, Just a warning. This book is an erotica, which means 18+, so if you are uncomfortable with sex and adult stuff, please don’t read my books. But if you are a nymphomaniac like me, go ahead ;) Also guys, for the better understanding of the stories, I’d also like to give you the order in which the books should be read: 1)Nathaniel Lachlan 2)Aaron Riverwood 3)Landon Chambers 4)Danika Williams 5)Mary Redferne PS this book is set up in the 1960s Mary Redferne I was in the car, tapping my foot restlessly as the driver drove inside the gates of a mansion of the guy I was about to marry in a few months. Yeah I know, crazy! I never thought that I’d settle for an arrange marriage

She turned around but she couldn't see anyone. But when she turned again to continue her journey two men ambushed her, grabbing her by the leg which was a very wrong move because she kept on kicking. One of them dipped his hand in his pocket and brought out a white handkerchief for some reason, he kept on trying to get it close to Mara's face but she kept on rotating her head like a standing fan and she slowly reached into her pocket to bring out a small, flat perfume bottle only to spray both of them in the face.

(3rd POV) Marley Brown sat at the edge of a worn, wooden bench in the park, her slender frame silhouetted against the vibrant autumn leaves. At twenty-five, she had learned to appreciate the simple joys of life like the rustle of leaves underfoot and the crispness of the air. Today, however, was not as simple as it appeared. Marley’s mission loomed before her like the clouds gathering for a storm.

It was just the shadow of an animal or something. Walking to the cherry bookcases, she allowed her fingers to trace over all the beautiful book covers, surprised at the wide range of genres on display--mysteries, classics, even a romance or two. Her lips quirked up at that. She did not see Nicolai as a romance reader. Plucking one of these romances off the shelf, she retired to the incredibly comfy looking double armchair in front of the fire, intending to read for a few minutes before Nickolai got there and they could explore the promised bath together.

She pressed her ear to the hidden panel as Marcella’s voice slithered through the crack: “Lock this wing. Replace the books with crystal sculptures. And burn that Shakespeare volume—it reeks of failure.” This was were Amara always crept in after midnight, flashlight beam trembling. The shelves were already half-empty, gaps like missing teeth. Mama’s desk was stripped bare except for the wedged Peter Rabbit. The floor was scattered with torn pages—her translations of Machiavelli, her notes on The Inferno. She gathered the fragments, stuffing them into her cotton dress. Kneeling in the dust, she pressed her scarred wrist to the oak desk, leaving her own mark in the wood grain.