My Booktok Journal Novels & Stories

thank you so much. I planning on writing BOOK 2. but with a different characters found in this book. can't decide which among them. I already talked to much. hahhaha.. thank you once again.. Sincerely, RJ Cross

“And here I thought the night couldn’t get more dramatic.” Cheyenne didn’t laugh. She was already turning toward the bookshelf. Tora let out a breath and looked to Jax. “I’m gunna need a notebook.” Cheyenne moved toward her bookshelf with purpose, brushing her fingers along the spines until she found the one she was looking for. It was a thick, weathered journal bound in soft brown leather. The edges were frayed, the cover scored with claw marks and burn lines. A faint glimmer of old magic clung to it.

When my shift ended, I found myself walking toward the corner table where Kael sat, his laptop closed now, a book in his hands. I stopped short when I saw the cover. ‘Knot We Cannot Untie.’ That was the book he was holding. I can't believe that Kael would be reading one of Linda Lively’s books. “You read… this?” I said, the surprise evidently in my voice. Kael looked up, one brow raised. “Why? You think I only read racing magazines and bank statements?” I gave a small laugh. “Chill bro. It’s just… not what I was expecting ”

Dora smiled warmly and handed me the old book, saying, "Your mother would have wanted you to have it. It's time for you to know the truth about your past." Different emotions ran through my blood as I looked at the journal, belonging to a woman I barely knew. I opened the worn pages of the journal. Inside, I found detailed accounts of her life, spells, and magical discoveries. The pages were filled with sketches, incantations, and notes. “Thank you,” I said as I put it into my bag. I stepped out of my chamber and was relieved to see Troy and Antonio waiting for me just as they had promised. Troy pulled him into his arms and hugged me tightly

Thursday, 13 February 2014 11:00pm Dear Jennifer, I have decided to write a personal journal to help me cool off my head over the tough times I face with my family. Should anything weird happen to me one day, I hope this book will find its way to you and help solve the riddles around my situation. I am not predicting something bad to happen to me or my family any soon; however, the future, and all its occurrences, is inevitable.

Hello 🤗 I'm truly sorry for the recent inconsistency. I've been experiencing significant creative burnout and fatigue lately, which has made it challenging to update. I'm working on getting my creative energy back, and I appreciate your patience. This book will be completed soon, so please know it won't be abandoned. Thank you for your understanding! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Feel welcomed to check out my other book. Much love❤

Looking around the room, I gently drag myself out of bed and walk towards the wooden shelves that contain books. Grabbing onto an old ancient book, I walk back to the bed and make myself comfortable on it before throwing the book open but from the first page, I am stunned. It is not a book but a journal, Derrick’s personal journal. I know I am not supposed to read it but something in it keeps drawing my attention and bracing myself, I turn to another page. ********** “As the moonlight bathed the forest in its beautiful glow, I felt an inexplicable restlessness surrounding me. My senses heightened, and an untamed power surged through my veins. It was as if a dormant beast had awakened, cravin

I stepped back before my shoes could creak on the polished floor. My throat was tight. I didn’t need to hear more. She wasn’t here for me. She was here for something else. I sat in my room that night, Saint already asleep with his favorite dragon book curled on his chest. My hands trembled as I lit a candle on the nightstand, then opened the small leather-bound journal I hadn’t touched in weeks. The pages still smelled faintly of sandalwood and ink. I wrote slowly. Carefully.

It pricks my interest and I wonder why I didn’t see it before. Guess I was too cut up trying to find a way and escape the suffocating smoke in the space. Scooting over, I grab the book. It’s an old leather-bound journal with several drawings and writings. I sit back down on the creaky floor, folding my legs together and then I flip through the first page that has a written sentence. “The world is dark. Full of myths. But how much do humans know?” That statement alone stirs my nerve and my curiosity flares to the nth degree. I turn the next page and surprisingly a picture falls off.