Nathaniel Hawthorne Bibliography Novels & Stories

"It was our code. In case Vivian was watching." She hands me the book. The actual title, stamped in worn gold lettering, reads "Botanical Classifications of North Atlantic Coastal Regions." "Light reading," I mutter. "A perfect disguise," Mrs. Holloway says with a small smile. "No one questions a dull scientific text. But inside..." She opens it to reveal pages where botanical illustrations frame margins filled with tiny, cramped handwriting. "Your parents' and Nathaniel's final research notes. I recovered it from your father's study the night they died, before Vivian could search the house."

‘You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me. The words sent a chill down Roseanne's spine, prompting her to return the book to its place with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "What on earth were you possessed with, Nathan?" She knew that she should not judge him too soon. However, she could not control the urge to. She turned to Wuthering Heights, a book placed on the book shelve over his desk. She flipped through its pages while spotting several highlighted quotes. Each quote held a clue to Nathaniel's inner mind. It was a world she sought to unravel in order to understand him.

I said with a grin. We couldn’t talk much after that because the teacher started class. We were continuing to read The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. It’s a depressing book about a colonial woman who has a child out of wedlock, and is shunned. I don’t know why English teachers insist on having students read such depressing literature. Still, I heard one of the other classes was doing The Crucible by Arthur Miller. Somehow, Scarlet Letter seems less depressing than a bunch of girls faking possession. Maybe.

She decided to relax on her bed a bit, slowly she drifted off to sleep. Nathaniel Hawthorne sat in his office, lost in thought, struggling to come to terms with the mate bond he shared with the Omega. His wolf was restless, and his mind was consumed by thoughts of the Omega, more than he cared to admit. He growled, rubbing his forehead, and removed his glasses, feeling frustrated and out of control.

Amelia glanced at Daniel’s letter. Then at the young cedar tree outside the window. She smiled. “I think that’s exactly what my father wanted.” ⸻ Far to the north, beyond familiar shipping routes, Julian Ashcroft guided his small vessel through dense morning fog. Nathaniel’s journal rested open on the cabin table. He had read it dozens of times. Yet today he noticed something new. A folded page hidden inside the back cover. He carefully removed it. It wasn’t written by Nathaniel. The handwriting was older.

“They’re turning on you. Your name will burn, Nathaniel Hawthorne. And I’ll be the one who lit the match.” — In a sleek office across town, a woman stood beside a wide glass window, staring out at the skyline. Her presence was elegant,powerful. “Ma’am,” her assistant entered. “I have something. It’s about Nathaniel Hawthorne.” She didn’t turn. “Speak.” “There was a scandal. One of the construction workers died. People think his company used fake materials. He’s been arrested.” A long silence. “I want everything,” she said softly. “All the files. Everything tied to the case. The truth, and nothing less.”

I pushed the front door open and led the way inside, the familiar creak of the floorboards underfoot. The study was just as she had left it, papers and books strewn about in chaotic disarray. I moved to the old wooden desk in the corner and began rifling through the drawers, searching for the journal. As I dug through the clutter, a dusty leather-bound book caught my eye. I pulled it out and blew off the dust, revealing the title: *The Hawthorne Chronicles: Folklore and Prophecy.* "This is it," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "My mother’s journal."

Though the discomfort remained, he tried hard to push it aside. “Does Lilly like him? If not, don’t force her to go.” “Lilly really likes Milton. We’ve gone out together before, and it was very enjoyable.” Mr. Hawthorne nodded slowly. “Good.” Natalie took his silence as consent for Lilly to go, and she chose not to say more. However, something else bothered her, so she decided to speak again, “Some women have come to me, asking about our relationship.” Since their marriage ended, Mr. Hawthorne had shown a hidden dark side. Women became pawns in the network he built. It was part of his personal vendetta against the world that had shunned him. Mr. Hawthorne thought the women who approached Nat

--- Blackwood Manor – Nathaniel's Private Study, Early Evening Nathaniel remained motionless, strands of light disintegrating across his desk in shards of glass. The house was quiet, and he preferred it thus. These were the moments when he wore a cloak of focus – and more recently, focus was something he could no longer quite so casually turn his back on. Yellowed stacks of paper to either side. The bound book before him, one he'd taken out from the estate books. Not new. Samuel Blackwood still preferred all books to the family ledger: computer and written.

He didn't know what he wanted to do to the Hart family, he didn't know which punishment should be given to them, but at this moment, he just wanted to sit. Suddenly, Nathan looked at the bed side table, and with a curious expression, he opened the first row, but what laid there were fever pills, he opened the second one, and saw a note book, he looked at the note book for a while, picked it up and check through it, but there were just some drawings of skeletons and some medical terms, Nathan guessed that Evans had used it to study at home. He closed it disinterestedly. There was nothing useful in this room and Evans seems to have packed every important thing from this room, so it was empty a