Maxwell's House Of Books Novels & Stories

“Irish, you can go around seeing the various facilities in this mansion, don't be shy to do anything you want.” “Yes I do, thank you so much madam, but I think, I want to visit the library first because I love reading books and studying.” “Oh, okay, That's good for you.” I went to the library and saw many very interesting and rare books in this mansion, which I had wanted to read for a long time. “Wow, this is so complete, the Maxwell boys must be thrilled to be in this library, if only they had the same hobbies as I do.”

She knew that she had to tell him. She didn't want this to go any further until he knew all about her. She needed him to know and was hopeful that he would be accepting. She was determined to speak with him about it later tonight. Right now, she didn't want to come down from the high she was on. They drove the ten minutes from the jewellery store to Maxwell's house. It was about four in the afternoon. His house was a nice three-bed, two-bath in a suburb of Springdale. When Dakota walked into the house, having known Emma, Maxwell's deceased wife, even she could sense her presence. It was not in any supernatural or ghostly manner, but the house had her signature on it. It was not the house of

The pleasant scent of old, crisp book pages was calming and relaxing. I had always loved reading, and that made me wonder why a man like Maximo had a well-maintained library in his home. With his dark tattoos, wild eyes, scars and scruffy ways, he definitely didn’t seem to be the type who would have much interest in spending his leisure time reading old books. And yet, he had a rather fine collection of books with a well-maintained library.

CHAPTER 31 MICHELSON POV “That was a very stupid move Maxwell .” I sat on my office couch with an arm resting on the back. The day had been not so well so far and I was starting to feel the tension, I wouldn't deny the fact that it had a lot to do about the trouble he had at home. "Things would have been better if we didn't cancel that deal." Maxwell said agitating me further. I was angry about the situation, and Maxwell saying something as spiteful as that.

"James built this company on steel and silence. He didn't build it for Cole to turn it into a soap opera. Rescue Romance? It’s vulgar." "It’s a good spin, Mother," a voice drawled from the corner. I turned to glare at my son. Maxwell was sprawled on a leather armchair, nursing a tumbler of scotch. It was 2:00 PM on a Tuesday. He was wearing a silk dressing gown over his trousers, his shirt unbuttoned, looking every bit the entitled, lazy spare he was. "You have to admit," Maxwell continued, swirling the amber liquid. "It plays better than “I Knocked Up My Cousin's Wife.” Cole’s PR team earns their keep."

the young girl whispered. "The archives are open to everyone here. That's why we came here," Mrs Maxwell said as she led them through the rows of shelves. They got to a particular shelf that was a different color from all the others. It was a very bright shade of pink. "We should find it here," Mrs Maxwell said as she halted. Cassarina quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. She began to pay attention to the titles of the books on that particular shelf. They were all pointing towards children's stories. She wondered how such an important document would be among a shelf filled with books for kids.

Maxwell’s home, saying he’d come back to get me in exactly one hour. The butler let me in, taking my coat before leading me to a lovely bedroom with Persian rugs and a bed fit for royalty. Dozens of pillows adorned the velvet bedspread, and I felt like the lucky one to have been chosen for such lavish accommodations. I hadn’t been inside the room for more than 30 seconds before Mr. Maxwell made his appearance. He was wearing a dark silk robe and holding a glass of dark liquor. His smile was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was how my body responded to his presence.

Maxwell’s office is a small thing attached to a coffee house. The front door has a faded high school theater poster, with his name in bold letters, peeling at the edges, like it’s begging Maxwell to let it go. Asher pushes the door open, and we’re immediately greeted with a prom crown sitting on the shelf, he still thinks of it as a trophy. To the right, a framed photo from that night, it’s a really old photo but Maxwell looks so much better in it. My eyes land on the multiple audition scripts that lay discarded in a box.

~FIORELLA~ Finding Mr. Maxwell's house takes longer than expected. It's tucked away in one of the more exclusive parts of the city, behind a tall stone wall and enormous iron gates. When the gates open, I stare through the window. The property is breathtaking. The house itself looks more like a historic estate than an ordinary residence. Warm lights glow through the windows. A long driveway leads toward the entrance. Lucas whistles softly. "This is a house?"

I can sit and work until I get reminded that it's time to call it a day. Maxwell had paid attention to everything, the bathroom was a his and hers bathroom, so was the closet . He had even stocked up on the range of products I use for my hair , face and body. The bedding had its own cabinet and laundry basket; there was a laundry room by the kitchen and he also had a nursery decorated. As if he couldn't be more perfect , he also stocked up the pantry and fridge with what was needed. Max had told me that he wanted to continue working with the club's PR team and he wanted to spend more time with me at home. As happy as I was I needed to get my business up and running ; I needed to take time of