Maxima Book Center Novels & Stories

—Tucked in the poetry section… was Max— He stood still, surrounded by verse. The poetry wing of the Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale was hushed, quieter even than the rest of the cathedral-like library. Heavy tomes lined each shelf in tall, glass-fronted cases. A chandelier hung overhead like a frozen constellation, casting a soft amber glow over the polished walnut floors. Max Carter’s hands were in his pockets, but his eyes moved like they always did—watchful, analytical, storm-gray with that familiar flicker of fire beneath. He wasn’t here for business. Not today. Not for legacy or leverage or damage control.

"Take all the time you need. Just remember that I'm here for you, and we'll get through this together." I sat at my desk, staring at the computer screen in front of me. Max's first launched book was a huge success after two years, thanks to Mia. The book had been on the New York Times Bestseller list for several weeks, and Max was being invited to do interviews and book signings all over the country. I'm so happy for Max, she deserves all the love and the blessing she's receiving. I know she's very humbled by all of the things that are happening around her.

"I need some fresh air, and you guys are still here, of course." After regaining the nod, Maxine passed towards the glass door with a white wooden frame —towards the balcony, as she had said earlier. Maxine searched for Maxim's name in her phone book list, then called eleven series of numbers until there was a note across, attaching the metal-body object to her right ear. With his head slightly bowed, Maxim still let his body sit upright. Since last night, Jase Stone, his father, has been constantly lecturing and ranting at him about all sorts of things.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ARIA I flipped a page of the old, giant hardcover book I was holding, my fingers skimming across the letters inked on the pages. I had gone exploring in Maximo’s mansion, deciding to take advantage of the little freedom he had given me. I was shocked to find out that he had a library here. Not just any basic library, a large, well-decorated one, with shelves and bookshelves upon bookshelves stacked high with ancient, leatherbound books in pristine condition.

They rampaged through stuff in a different room. Max wanted to find the book that showed every supernatural in town. It was easy for him to convince all the followers behind him to follow him because he could have proof of them living in town. Over a matter of days, Max had gained several people in town, all following his orders

‘This calls for a celebration,’ Max announced as enthusiastically as he could muster while he opened a bottle of champagne. ‘It does, but where did that come from?’ Clara asked. ‘I brought a few bottles. I knew you'd want to celebrate this good news,’ Jeremy replied. -=- The week before the installation, Max had to accompany Clara on a business trip. They’ll be in New York for the next three days to pitch their product to the owner of one of the largest construction companies in Manhattan called Budova. The name alone sounded ominous to Max. He did not tell his sister that he felt the same about it. Like there was something in the air warning him of the impending doom. He was probably projec

Small and bright with good light and walls that needed painting and a kitchen that actually worked. Completely mine. Max helped me move boxes. He was extremely vocal about the weight of every single one. “What is in this?” he said, dropping a box onto the floor. “Books,” I said. “You don’t own this many books.” “Grayson gave me some.” Max looked at the box. Then at me. “He gave you books.” “From the Queens bookshop,” I said. “He went back.” Max was quiet for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “I like him.”

I turn my head around to check what is under my mini drawer, only to see a book with a dominant red on its cover page. “Sometimes you win, Sometimes you Learn…” I read loudly. I tilted my head. “Did I bought one like this before?” I asked myself since I don’t remember reading this book from before. But if it isn’t mine, then why is this here inside my place? Shoving all of my questions, I pulled the chair in front of my vanity mirror and decided to check the content. A little smile showed in my face when I realized something from the title. There is a Lose behind the word Learn and it is written with black ink. I flip on the next pages and it first have notes from the Author named John C. Ma

Maxwell looked around in hurried movements for a pen and a paper to rewrite the numbers upright and forward. 618 338 32437. 8 816 833 73423. 8 BIG BEE PLACE. B Max grabbed his phone instantly to g****e any 'Big Bee Places' in Lake side and a Bee factory since the early 90s came up. "I've got it!." Now it was his turn to scream Eureka. "Steve!." No answer. "Steve!." No answer. "Fucking Steve!." Max pounded on the guest room door.

And in the center of the room. A book sat on a stone pedestal. Black leather. Silver veins pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. The cover was carved with a sigil shaped like a twisted moon. The Luna Maximus. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t dare blink. The stories said the Luna Maximus chose its reader. That it whispered to those with ambition black enough to stain fate. That it could gift a Luna more power than any Alpha alive. It should have chosen me years ago. But the goddess...the bitch...picked Emara instead.