Never Touch A Books Novels & Stories

That way, she packed his lunch almost every day, neatly arranging what he liked best inside, in the hope that he would really acknowledge her efforts. He loves to read books, she mused as she cleaned his study room, dusting the shelves filled with novels and business tomes. She took pride in keeping the space immaculate, but there was an unspoken rule: she couldn’t touch his things. The thought of moving a single book or shifting a paper felt like a betrayal. It was a reminder of the boundaries he had set, a line she dared not cross.

"You are the 'Rot' in the library. You must be 'Excised' so that the Great Record can remain pure." Audrey stood on the bridge of her half-faded ship, her eyes burning with a silver-and-gold fire. "The library is 'Dead', Librarian. A book that is never read is just a stack of paper. A world that never changes is just a tomb. We didn't come to excise you. We came to 'Open-the-Windows'."

Keeping it pressed against my chest, I started walking in the direction of the librarian. "Can I borrow this book?" I asked her, and I placed the book on the table in front of her. She looked shocked. "Why did you touch the book?" the librarian asked, snatching the book from my side. "Why can't I?" She raised her head to look at me. She stood up from her chair and declared, "Touching the bookshelves in the last corner is forbidden. Don't you know that?" That came as a complete surprise to me. It was the first time I had ever heard of any rules pertaining to these books.

not images, videos or screen shots are to be taken out of this book unless authorised otherwise. Its atotal Lgbt relation and if you find yourself uncomfortable reading it. Then please just dismiss. Little erotic and little romance to it.

Don't just skip this book again; add to library. Enjoy! Your loving author; Natasha Gwen

Telling me not to continue anymore. "Don't, never say whatever you saw in that book, not to me, not to Richard, not to my brothers, not even to your son, asbosulutely no one. Except you plan to endanger your life. Mere humans who are not related or of the Ego blood are not allowed to touch that book. It's a miracle you survived. Just how many times did you touch the book." I had no idea how to respond, I couldn't even give an answer as I held my fingers out to count but could not. "A lot." I told him. Malicay was speechless. But that was it.

there was…' An image flashes in my mind, so brief, I almost cannot comprehend it. I close my eyes and it comes again, clearer this time; a large book, back as hard as stone, among the various ones on the top shelf. "You must never touch it. Ever again", father had snapped at me when he found me balancing precariously on the ladder, the leather-bound pages in my hands. The thrill that ran through my fingers, my very bones. The light that flashed in father's eyes as he ripped it from my hands. The elders' talk about sacred objects…

Books are meant to be read, not sit in a shiny glass case for the rest of its life. I still lay there staring blankly at nothing while tracing the beautiful design of the book with my finger, as it lays closely to my face. There is no rhyme or reason to this situation, little did I know the night I was almost raped, I would meet an even bigger obstacle than that.

“This is the narrowed selection?” The librarian nods at me, giving us both an eager smile. “Thank you,” Roger says, smiling back at her warmly. “I’ll be here if you need me,” the librarian says, gesturing towards the desk at the head of the room. “But please, make yourself at home. Just…” she hesitates, looking between us. “Please no…food or drink…around the books.” “We promise,” Roger says, giving her the most charming smile I’ve ever seen from him. “We’ll protect the books at all costs. No sticky fingers here.” The librarian blushes, then giggles, and scurries away.

I never did. The book slips from my fingers and lands on the floor with a soft thud. I don’t pick it up.