Novel Cover Page Novels & Stories

Wala kasing pen-name na nakalagay sa cover Pero ang ipinagtataka ko, wala namang ibang feeling na ipinapadama ang nga librong 'to unlike sa libro na nasa akin. I opened a book without the plastic wrap, okay lang naman sigurong basahin 'to, ano? I turned to its 1st page. "What..." I muttered, iba ang contents nito. Hindi siya parang diary, para lang siyang history book. This is weird.

Stepped back folding his arms. "Marcus just brought it from the room where they bind books, " Julian said in a respectful voice. "It is the first real copy of the book with a hard cover." Elena's breath caught in her throat as she unwrapped the paper. Inside she found a beautiful book. The cover was made of a material that felt like old paper. On the front of the book it said "Nora Vale" in a way that made it look nice. She picked up the book. I felt how heavy it was. For a time she had been writing stories that just went away on the internet. People would read them. Then forget.. Holding this book made her feel like her stories were real and would last.

Julie entered the bathroom in a hurry. She didn’t want to miss anything. Julie wanted Hugh Dawson, the artist, to see her as acceptable. Who’d been sweet enough to do her book covers for nothing but only for her mention that he’d created them for her? She mentioned every time he made the covers for her. With three books published, his name appeared on each cover as the cover’s creator, beneath her name as the author. Tonight, Hugh wanted to unveil publicly the cover of her fourth book for her to thank her for the exposure of her books gave his work. Rising Tides and Passions Voyage, was her latest novel, a second chance romance of two single people on a couple’s cruise. Julie was nervous he’

Was she someone I know? “Because I said so. Now answer my question ▇▇▇▇▇. I can’t wait to see what lies you will tell me. It will be so fun!” The scribble figure reaches for the book on the table and opens it. She then turned the open book towards me and instead of seeing anything in the book, I just saw pages that were completely covered in pencil scribblings.

Arash's eyes immediately fell on a novel with a white rose cover that was not as large as most novels. With a slightly damaged cover and a plastic cover on the outside, Arash was even more convinced that the novel must be quite old, for a book. Without realising it, the man blurted out the novel's author's name rather loudly. "A novel by Mira.W ...." Arash said. Upon hearing this, Arash could see that the girl named Zaya immediately shifted her attention to the bag lying on the chair next to where she was sitting. She then turned her gaze to Arash, whose eyes were still fixed on the book without blinking.

You understand, don't you? FunFact: The cover was done by me. I know I know you're probably like "Ok?" but Nah I'm really proud of it and it took days for me to do, so I just had to say it. DISCLAIMER The following story is entirely fictitious (which makes sense given that werewolves are involved). Violence, occasional curse language, and occasionally content for adults only will all be present. I've been writing for years now but got unmotivated and stopped at one point, but I've never actually had any of my writing published. Please don't come after me; I recall authoring this novel in the ninth grade. Some passages could make you cringe, but overall, writing this book was enjoyable.

Giving her aunt a nod as she walked past her. Layla could finally focus on what she came to the library for, although at the back of her mind she wished Nelle could stay longer. She sat down at one of the tables and scanned the books cover. It was covered in worn midnight-blue leather and had no title, though, it was covered in intricate golden designs that glimmered under the light. * buzz – buzz * “Just when I was about to start reading it, great.” Scoffed Layla as she grew weary.

I crouched down and pulled it out halfway to get a better look. On the Matter of Souls: Death, the Afterlife, and Everything Between “Seems useful,” I muttered to myself and pulled it out. It was heavier than it looked. The cover was dark green, the papers gone yellow with age, and when I cracked it open, dust came flying up that made me cough and wave my hand in front of my face. The first page had a beautiful illustration of Death on it, although the ink had browned. I turned carefully to the table of contents and ran my finger down the list.

It hit my shoulder before dropping to the floor. I barely felt the pain. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Perfect,” I muttered. “Just what I needed.” I almost ignored it. But something about that book caught my eye. It wasn’t like the others. The cover was deep red—so dark it looked almost like dried blood in the dim light. The edges were lined with gold that had faded with age. I frowned and bent down to pick it up. It felt heavier than it looked. When I turned it over, I noticed something strange.

is the only word Aminah can think of to alleviate the discomfort; she also does not want to talk with him any longer. She took the clothes, but something abruptly dropped off. When Aminah noticed a perfectly laying lace underwear, her eyes widened. Its hue is red, which makes it stand out. This is the typical design she saw in Helen's room in a seductive magazine. For the second time, she caught Bram's gaze, who only coughed, nodded, and nervously checked the curtain. "I'll change this later." She was too humiliated and just take it immediately and ran to the restroom and slapped her face, hoping to forget her humiliation.