More The Book Novels & Stories

The book fell twice. “You move like someone used to being overlooked,” she said. “A wife of Vale does not slouch for pity. Nor stiffen for defense. She exists as if the world was always watching, and always will.” I picked up the book. Walked again. Kept going until my neck ached and my pride with it. Speech. She handed me a folded page of newsprint. “Read. As if you’ve known these words all your life.” I began: “Global markets fluctuated amid rising concerns over inflation—”

She always brought her contagious energy, and whenever she was with us, it felt like the group was finally complete. One afternoon at the plaza, we hung out after class. RJ was buying kwek-kwek, Lianne held a bottle of soda, and Sofia sat on a bench beside Paolo, talking about one of his books. “You read so much,” Sofia said with a playful laugh. Her tone caught me off guard, but Paolo just smiled shyly. “Books are easier than people.” Sofia laughed again, and that’s when I noticed the way she looked at him. It wasn’t obvious to everyone. But to me, sitting quietly at the side, it was crystal clear.

Helen’s POV They say that when you finally get what you’ve been fantasizing about, you’ll soon be contented. But why do I feel different? I want more. I want it even better. What happened was the best. But I crave for something more. Something hot and illicit. A smirk formed in my lips as I stared at President Roscoe’s body laying beside me. “Are you tired, Mr. President?” I asked with my seductive voice. He sighed then closed his eyes. I thought he won’t answer but…

“You’re being paranoid. Or maybe you’re just not attracted to me anymore. Which is it?” I opened my mouth, but how could I explain it? The sensation wasn’t fear exactly. It was warmer. Deeper. Like invisible fingers trailing down my spine, teasing the sensitive spot just above my ass. My clit gave a faint, traitorous throb. I pressed my thighs together, mortified. “Stan, please. I’m not crazy. It’s this new book I got today. Something about it—”

He didn’t reply right away but enclosed me in his arms. “Can we now start all over again?” he asked, smiling through his tears. I nodded and smiled. And at that moment, I also sent a quick prayer for Zed that he could also move on and start over. THE END Author's note: Thank you so much for reading Book 1 and 2. Book 3 will follow and it will be a standalone story of Zed. We also want him to be happy, right? And if you like the story, please reward this author with a review. I wish to know your thoughts on the characters' journey. See you on their next journey.

She mumbled to herself. Out of nowhere, a girl tripped and fell her thick books on the ground. It caught his attention. He immediately crouched to help her like a perfect gentleman he embodied. Talking about real cliché! Right, she almost forgot the fact that he is naturally drawn to people who need help. And she realized she was just one of those not somebody special her delusions led her to believe.

Rosemary’s Pov “I will eat later…” I say softly , offering him a smile. He exchanges a look with Xavier , but I do not stay for the lectures that I know is coming. Instead I walk to the entrance and sit on the floor in a crossed legged position – my eyes fixated on the fiery red flames that almost touches the sky. I sit out there for a while , enjoying the peace of being alone. At this moment , all I ever want is to be alone. I would often feel my stomach kick me with hunger , as my nose smelt the food that was cooking but I easily turned my attention back to the burning kingdom.

- I told him. He nodded and pulled several books out from one of the stacks and set them in front of me. I opened the top book and ran my fingers over the runes in the title. It was beautifully written as if each word was drawn with love and attention to detail. Now that I looked at it, it reminded me of a combination of Norse and Old English. Nerrian pulled his chair closer and pointed to the first word, speaking it in my mind than out loud in Draygonian. With his help, I repeated the word over and over again until I perfected it.

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Trisha heard Mrs Perry complain as she glided through shelves teemed with ages-old books before she could be pulled into hours-long conversation with the old lady. She picked up a book from a dilapidated shelf, blew off the dust that had found solace on it's leather covering over the years, and squinted— because of the poor illumination, to see the books name. ‘Wizards Can Do More’ by one of the greatest wizards ever, LP Travis. It was a book she wanted but not one she needed. Hence, she put it back in its spot among other dusty books and walked to another shelf.