Mouse And Strawberry Book Novels & Stories

She came closer to me slowly, swaying her hips from one side to another, I wondered why she walked that way, she was always rigid with her movement, she bit her lower lip, while I stood frozen before her, she leaned in until her breath tickled my ear. “Marcella Solis… I want you,” she whispered. She pulled back just enough for me to see her face, though she remained dangerously close. From behind her back, she brought out a strawberry she hid behind her. She took a slow, deliberate bite. There was something consuming about the way she bit the strawberry, taking every bite slowly while I could hear the crunchy sound, it made me want some but not from the one she held in her hand, from where I

He kept his eyes on me as he bit into the strawberry again. Lucas straddled my hips and leaned down. His breath fanned against my lips, making me smell the strawberry off his breath. He pressed his lips to mine and I moaned at the sweet taste in my mouth. I moaned when his hand went to my breast which he cupped hard.

“Macey doesn’t like strawberries. She’s allergic and breaks out when she eats them.” Paul fell silent as he and March both looked at Julius in surprise, but he wasn’t done speaking his mind. Julius had listened to the other’s rant, and now it was time for Paul to listen to his. “Macey’s favorite fruit is watermelon because it reminds her of summer, and she prefers it with a dash of salt. Her favorite food is honey and everything made with it or slathered in it, including pancakes. Her favorite color is green, which is fitting since she was born in May. Her favorite book is a Picture of Dorian Gray because it is all about how artwork reveals the truth. Her favorite movie is The Princess

There were neat, small sticky notes poking out from almost every single chapter. I opened to the first marked page. In Maverick’s handwriting, there was a note that read: “Does page 14 mean the data moves faster if you shorten the string? Let me know if I got that right.” I stared at the note, my heart feeling so light that I felt like a teenager again. I looked up at him, completely stunned. "Maverick... did you buy a coding textbook?"

Ivy doesn't need anyone. She's got three jobs, a sharp tongue, and zero patience for men who think muscle solves everything. Then a bar fight goes wrong, an infuriatingly gorgeous stranger clears her debt, and suddenly she's stuck working for a hockey player who smells like moonlight and looks at her like she's the answer to a question he never asked. She should have known "assistant" was too good to be true. She definitely shouldn't have missed the part where he's a werewolf. Or that she might be one too. Alex has spent three years running from an arranged marriage, an Alpha title he doesn't want, and a fate he can't outskate. The night he finds his fated mate slinging drinks at a dive

I’d have gladly walked into its yawning gullet at that moment. “It’s a very interesting book, Doon,” continued Maurice. “It’s the story of Muad’Dib, the mouse that hides from the sun and travels in the cool night.” “Sounds a bit boring,” said Flossie. “Do you think we could delay this week’s Book Club until we get out of this mess?” I requested in my most reasonable voice. Stay calm, wait for first light, and then make our way back to the lake, possibly to drown myself and get it all over with. “Just keep quiet and don’t make any sudden movements.”

I responded, snuggling into his arms. Goosebumps exploded on my skin from the touch of his fingers gently caressing my arm. My eyes caught sight of the bowl of strawberries on the table behind him. Just then, my stomach rumbled, reminding me that I needed to eat something. I lay back into the crook of Cyril’s right elbow and reached over to pick one. I brought the fruit to my lips and bit into the berry. I sucked its juice, savouring the sweet taste, knowing very well that Cyril was watching my every move.

Sincerely, Cornelius Cane Serendipity was quite puzzled. Very little of the letter made any sense to her at all. She simply could not decipher what Mr. Cane was trying to tell her. It didn’t seem as if he were asking her to return to the North Pole with him again. She read the words again and again, trying different sounds for the vowels, a strategy both her father and Maevis had taught her, but nothing seemed to make any sense. She crossed over to her table where the lamp sat, lit it, and took a seat in her chair, hoping the stronger light might help her a bit. Just then, she heard a loud squeaking sound from atop the table, and she turned her attention that direction, hoping it was Pozzlet

Walking home with that book felt like stealing light from the sky. In my room, I opened it slowly. The pages smelled like dust and ink. I didn’t understand most of the first chapter. But I didn’t close it. Every night after work, I read one page. Then another. Then another. At the restaurant, Jenna started calling me “Book Mouse.” Leo noticed too. “You falling asleep on your feet,” he grunted one night. “What’re you reading?” “Math,” I said. He blinked. Then shook his head. “Nuts.”

He rushed downstairs and suddenly threw himself toward Amanda, who was holding the long straw, pretending to fall. And in that instant, the straw snapped completely in half.