Novel & Cerita Non-fiction That Reads Like Fiction

Sprinted to the door, I pulled it open, not expecting it to open, but it did, causing my heart to swell in joy. Ambling to the shelf, my eyes darted round the various book covers. Fiction was my favorite book to read because the best thing about reading was to be able to escape from your life, to be able to read hundreds or even thousands of other lives. Non-fiction does not have that power, it does not change you the way fiction does. To me, if you are not affected somehow, even if it is the slightest change, you are not reading the right book. I would love to think that every novel I have read has become a part of me and created who I am in a sense.

he wiggled his brows at me and snorted and I shook my head. "Is it about your author friend?" I asked and he nods. "Yes! There's something intriguing about her story" he said and I raised a brow at him. "Don't tell me you're brooding over a fictional story that someone wrote" I chuckled. "It's not a fictional book. It's non-fiction and the story is quite touching". "Since when did you become a softy over books being read?" I asked still amused. "Is not really the matter of being a softy dumbass. I just find the story similar to what happened to you".

“I prefer reading non-fiction in my free time. Most recently, I read Sapiens, by Yuval Noah Harari, which is a history of humans and their social structures. I intend to read the sequel, Homo Deus, next.” “Sounds enthralling,” Andre muttered, rolling his eyes for my benefit. “I assure you it was.” The bartender smoothly replaced the empty margarita pitcher with a fresh one, placing an empty glass in front of Roman. The Englishman nodded his head in thanks. “We read each other’s favorite books,” I explained. “Andre’s is Red Storm Rising.” “By that military tosser Tom Clancy?” Roman scoffed haughtily. “His books are overly stuffed with bollocks acronyms and officer jargon. It’s the rare case w

The usual genres one would expect to find at a book fair, too: history, fiction, non-fiction, folklore, fantasy, fairytales… everything. I had wondered and hoped that I could find the fiction book about the female alpha, but there was nothing of the sort to be found. I would rummage through the boxes each day, hoping to find something, but nothing. Nothing at all. Picking up a large pile of books from a box, I strolled towards a table that was getting empty to fill it up again.

But the one that caught my attention was The Grim Howl. I reached for it because it was on the second shelf. I could barely grab it. I opened it more out of curiosity. To my great surprise, I discovered it wasn’t fiction but rather nonfiction. It was like a guidebook for a man who turned into a bloodthirsty beast when the moon was full. “You’re curious, aren’t you?” a low, masculine voice said suddenly. I jumped at the sound of his deep tone. I turned around and almost lost my balance.

He hung up his keys and folded his coat over a chair before preparing a frozen dinner, which he ate while reading a science fiction story a friend had recommended. There were plenty of books in his apartment, but he’d read very few of them. Mostly, they were books his sister picked out for him; detective novels. He’d liked them as a child and she failed to notice he no longer read them since he actually became an officer. Now, they seemed too unrealistic. Everything was exciting in the books. They always managed to leave out the hours of meticulous planning, days of stakeouts and piles of paperwork, all bound by a ton of red tape. Detective novels were unrealistic and, if he was going to rea

His books were mostly nonfiction and finance books. As Sierra heard the water in the shower, it was a signal for her that Alek was already inside and waiting for her. Every inch of her skin was filled with excitement. The butterflies on her stomach couldn't stay still. But as she was ready to take off her clothes, there was something that caught her attention. In his sea of books, there was something different. It has a fantasy-like cover. The vintage appearance made it blend in among the rest. Yet, the vines on the corner were unusual. There was no discoloration on the edges though it seemed old. Something new pretending to be old.

If I played my cards right, I could get out of here with another clue. "You don't say." Noah rolled his eyes, scoffing underneath. " Bailey…" "But I'm all alone, there's only so much I can endure before I go mad." "And books will help you how?" "Delving into a fictionous world to live out the character's fantasies and adventures is amazing isn't it?" I put on my best smile, hoping it would work. " Don't you agree Noah? It feels…." "Since when did you pick up an interest in reading. " He wasn't buying it, at all. He tightened his grip on me and I yelped. " What are you up to, Bailey? Reading is my thing."

She put into words all she saw from the moving picture. But she did something else other than tell the truth. She wrote a character that resembled her in those stories. At least, even just in her novels, she would create friends that wanted her. At least, even just in her novels, she would be able to live the life she could never have lived in reality. At least, even if it's just in her novels, she wouldn't be alone. Day and night she wrote and wrote until she filled pages and pages with words of truth. She wrote until there wasn't a fairy tale lie she couldn't expose anymore.

“I hope so. Maybe a good book, too.” “Nonfiction or fiction?” He turned and faced her. “On vacation? Fiction. Before bed, non-fiction.” “Why non-fiction before bed?” “I like the fiction books too much. I won’t sleep. I have to know what the next chapter is. Does the dragon devour the town? Do the aliens win? How does the pauper become a prince? What about you?” the man asked. “Fiction or non-fiction?” “Fiction. I am a sucker for a good romance. And Dr. Seuss, of course, but that’s more on a professional level.”