Mary Book Novels & Stories

"I haven't read of him in your history." Marcus owned the only known text of beastkind and vampire lore in North America. He brought the heavy volumes with him when he left Europe. Amy was fascinated by the history that humans would find dark but fanciful, similar to Grimm's Fairy Tales. Much of the text was handwritten, which Amy spent hours deciphering. Her journalistic background needed an outlet and the books provided her with the tools to try to understand who and what she really was.

Speaking of which, Mr Bordeaux made his way around her, and started messing with his pots and pans, that was Marias's cue to leave. Whilst Mr Bordeaux was frittering away in the kitchen Maria picked up a book from his collection and sat at the kitchen. The man had an astounding collection of books from Thrillers to books on the economy. He was well versed, and as she turned another page Maria pictured Mr Bordeaux pushing past each page in a methodical way, never skipping to the end to see what happens. Maria respected that but her attention span was grappling with her already despite being a few pages into the book. Once she was done, Maria had a sip of coffee from a cup that was sitting on

Mari’s POV On the drive back, I flip through one of the paperbacks I just got from the bookstore. “There’s a lot of sex,” I comment as I peruse the pages. Hanna chuckles. “I can’t believe you have never read one of those. In high school, at least.” “I wasn’t your normal high school student,” I confess, bittersweet memories flooding my mind. “Between all the days I was missing from class and my poor grades, I barely graduated. I was never much of a bookworm.”

I laugh at the clever word play. "Can we go in there?" I plead. Jack looks to where I'm pointing, "Of course." He smiles at me. I smile super hard and stare at the adventure ahead of me. We walk in and I look at a ton of cooking books, dog calendars and more. There's a book there called, Dear Nobody. It's a true story about a girl named, Mary Rose, who has to deal with her drug addiction and boys. The book interests me. I show Jack. "Out of every book in this store, you choose the one about an addict?" Jack raises his eyebrows. I shrug.

The more he listened, the more confused he was. William's brows knitted at Marcus's puzzled look. He prompted, "Do you remember that you told me Lucian had no female friends when I asked you to investigate her?" "Yes. I've always thought it strange that, other than Miss Garcia, she doesn't have any other female friends," said Marcus. It felt incredulous for him to even spell it out. "Adding on to that, Miss Barnbook is someone brilliant who had been working tirelessly with Miss Garcia. She's attractive and elegant, and she's quite kind-natured too. It really is strange that she doesn't have many close friends."

My steps slowed as I took in the shelves that stretched higher than I could see, a maze of knowledge stacked and bound in leather. I froze in the doorway, clutching the edge of my apron like I had no right to even breathe here. Because I didn’t. I couldn’t even read. I thought Rowe was going to teach me but…well, it was just another disappointment for me to brood over. Marcus had called books “a waste in omega hands.” He’d said our sole purpose was to serve and not to think. Maybe a part of me still believed him, because standing here, staring at the endless shelves, I felt small again….and pathetic.

It's the same handwriting I saw many times when I was still working for Global Media. "Something to brighten your day. Enjoy. MK" I can practically hear Maron's deep, infuriatingly smooth voice murmuring the words into my ears. It’s all it takes to get me ridiculously wet. Seriously, Mindy? You really have to do something about this libido of yours. Tucking the card into my pocket, I gather up the mystery box and march out of the building.

No folders. Just one black binder. The cover carried no title. No date. No label. Only a small handwritten note. For whoever finds this after I fail. Nobody breathed. For several seconds, nobody even moved. Then Vivian sat down abruptly. Mrs. Crawford crossed herself. Lucian stared. Kieran looked away. Only Mara reached for the binder. Carefully. Slowly. As though opening it might change everything. Perhaps it would. She lifted the cover. The first page contained only one sentence.

Both of us were soaked. Seeing that I had also been splashed, the villager hurried forward, intending to apologize. However, the moment he looked at me, he fell silent as he stared in shock. I paused for a moment before realizing something was wrong. My heart sank. Sure enough, Aldric’s gaze shifted back and forth between Rosalind and me. “The Princess’s mark on her forehead washed away with the water, but Lady Leanora’s makeup faded… and revealed a real birthmark! Lady Leanora… She is the true Chosen One!”

CHAPTER 1 — THE LATE RETURN I really shouldn’t have been there after closing time. The sign on the door already read “Closed” in elegant gold letters, and the lights inside Marcus Vale’s bookstore were dimmed to that soft amber glow he always left on for the night. I stood outside for a full minute, debating whether to just slip the book through the mail slot and run. But the book was rare — a 1923 first edition of The Great Gatsby with handwritten notes in the margins, and I couldn’t risk damaging it.