Masterpiece The Book Novels & Stories

His mother was too ambitious, wanting her son to become a smart and intelligent person and then work for a well-known company, without realizing that life is not as easy as it seems in her head. "Then tomorrow I will be there." "What?! N--no need, Ma. This grand opening is not open to the public, only a few people are allowed to attend." "How strange, then your boss's cafe is only known by certain people?" "Y--yes, the problem is that later the cafe will become a VIP cafe with five stars." "The concept is really weird, where is the cafe?" Chris tapped his forehead lightly, he really couldn't answer his mother's question this time. The questions were many times more difficult than the previou

He bowed and walked away. "Why is my life so complicated?" She sighed and looked around, hoping to find something that would distract her from her wild thoughts. Her eyes caught the sight of a long book shelf at the far end of the lounge. She carefully walked toward it, admiring the beauty of the many books that sat in the shelf. "Woah..." She mouthed. She picked one of the books and sat down close to the window. "The history of werewolves..." She whispered as she ran her fingers over the book. She opened the book and in less than an hour, she fell asleep.

She said, "Then let's start, Master Noah and Master Kaal." As she took her first step something inside her said 'There's a new gossip for the school... -------------------------------- Know that any picture used in the book is not owned by me. I am, like any other author use Pinterest. So Stars, if you like the do VOTE! And make sure to tell me what do you want to see for the next chapter!?

he had said to her without looking back". His eyes were still fixed outside the window with his pipe in his left hand and a cup in the other hand. Lydia felt chills on her skin as soon as she heard the master's voice and she immediately took off her robe and climbed onto the bed spreading her legs wide enough to accommodate him. Her soul was bubbling with happiness and desires, she closed her eyes and awaited the Master. Master Damien took one more sip from his drink and turned, dropping the cup on the table and facing the naked maiden laying on his bed. He got closer to her staring at her womanhood which was opened wide for him. He suddenly does not feel the urge to lay her, he was looking

"It is something Marcus used to say. He even wrote it in a book he published. I think it was called 'Meditations'. Now answer my question." Ray nodded and didn't say anything else. He didn't know why his master was suddenly talking about these people. He was sure that it had something to do with the screening spell earlier. If he wasn't wrong, the spell had caused his master to relive those moments when he was with these people. So in other words, they had this stranger to thank for his master's strange state. He was also just going to breeze past his master's eagerness to receive his reply when the old man hadn't even answered his question. However he knew they were getting there.

Most books were those of witch craft which leads me to believe that Master was a warlock unless he just found the books fascinating. I stopped when a book caught my eye and it looked more like a journal then an actual published book. Gently I removed the book from the shelf and I read the inscription on it. “Red Moon Covent Grimoire.” As I opened the book the name inside stood out like a torn “Alexandra Bishop.” The book had belonged to my mother but how did the Master get ahold of this book? Did my mother give it to him? From behind me I heard someone clearing their throat and I turned to look who it was. The man in the red clock stood only a few feet away from me. “Of all the books in this

I tossed the card to the ground and said indifferently, “The payment for this banquet is nine hundred thousand dollars. Please remember to pay what you owe me.” Carlson looked up and said mockingly, “Professor Taylor, aren’t you poor? Five years ago, you were barking like a dog for just a thousand dollars.”

“Your name?” I composed myself and gripped my skirt, trying not to run to the door. “I’m…” I trailed off and glanced at the folders on the floor before looking at him again. “Amity Escobar.” He turned his eyes to his desk before spinning himself around to face the floor-to-ceiling window. “The famous teacher,” he stated. “I was thinking of you, Ms. Escobar.” My hands started to get sweaty. “What you look like…and how beautiful you are to be the talk of the town,” he continued.

“Just as you wish for it.” The Mistress smile that is equally threatening and hiding something that she prefers to keep like a souvenir. With the grand clock ticking and finally to its very last seconds. A bit of a change from the past are corrected. Now presenting it in the way that is better than before and too perfect to be told to be a fault. Then. “Here I thought that you wouldn’t came.” “Tsk! I’ve been thinking about it and I realize that I couldn’t miss this for the world and books.”

A thick carpet spread across the floor, so soft and heavy that my footsteps sank into it. Three leather couches formed a neat square around a shining glass coffee table. The cushions were fat and plush, begging to be touched. On the table sat a silver bowl filled with shiny apples so perfect they looked like they’d been painted. Against one wall stood a tall bookshelf stacked with hardcovers rows and rows of them, like they had never been touched by dust or by children’s hands. Above the fireplace hung a painting with bold strokes of gold, red, and deep blue, colors melting into one another in a dance that made me dizzy just looking at it. Everywhere my eyes landed, I saw wealth, care, order