Old Novel Novels & Stories

She closed them for a long moment. "He learned it from Cedric." "Yes." "He has been doing it for twenty-one years without anyone to tell him where it came from." "Yes." She opened her eyes. She set her hand over mine on the cup. "I am going to go find Kade tomorrow. I am going to tell him." "Good, mama." "Good." The fourth night, she told me about the book. My father had a favorite book. It had been on his desk in the Ashvale household. It was a small volume of poems by a writer named Olaren the Younger, who had lived two hundred years ago at the edge of the eastern continent and had written about water and waiting.

She examines the old, leather-bound spines with wide eyes. "This must have been a mistake," she murmurs, running her fingers over the covers. "Wow… these are… incredible." I step closer. "What is it?" Elizabeth slides out a thick, dusty book from one of the upper shelves. "I’ve heard of this one—it’s a book of legends."

I admired some of the old classics and new books as my eyes wandered over every title. I had gathered a stack of books in my hand, picking ones I wanted to read and taking them out. So far, I had five books that I found would pique my interest such as Alice in Wonderland, Pride and Prejudice and the Maze Runner. All of these books were human and I admired the wide selection of books that this room had. I tried to find one that was all about werewolves like the library back at my pack had and only seemed to find one that was labelled 'As Old As Time Will Tell' written by none other than one of the eldest werewolf alive which was 'Herbert Vanderlin'. In the blurb, it states his life as an old

As if some indelible dye had seeped outward from the marrow of his bones. Iron salts and oak gall. The formula for Old Formula Ink. He had used this ink to write the Codex for two hundred years. The ink had seeped into every furrow of his fingerprints. Then been ground down by the ages into a shell that could not be peeled away. Those brown fingers gripped an unlit candle. The wick was newly trimmed. The white wax was newly poured. But the body of the candle was only half of what it had been. He had waited behind this door for too long. The candle had burned down to its end. He had replaced it with a new one. Had not yet had time to light it.

Hades, The scent of baked coffee mixed with something unfamiliar hit my nose the moment I stepped into the old boutique. The dim lighting cast shadows over the wooden furniture, and porcelain dolls lined the shelves, their empty eyes watching in silence. To the untrained eye, this place might seem like nothing more than an antique shop, but I knew better. Something in the air felt ancient. Powerful. As I scanned the room, footsteps approached. An old man… sixty years old, left leg injured.

Before I could respond, the boat hit the shore of our island. ​The next few weeks passed in a beautiful, blurred haze. Luke didn't need his crutches anymore. He started helping my father on the farm, and to everyone's surprise, the "city boy" was actually a hard worker. He was stronger than he looked. ​One afternoon, I found him standing by the old well behind our house, staring at a small piece of metal he’d found in the dirt. ​"Everything okay?" I asked. ​"I keep having these flashes," he whispered, not looking up. "Not memories, exactly. Just sounds. Phones ringing, people arguing about percentages, the sound of a heavy glass door closing. It feels cold, Hannah. Nothing like the warmth he

"Did you have a thought of marrying Myra? Don't tell me yes." "If not marry then for one night at least. She is something of a dad." "You should feel lucky that she didn't end up with you in any situation. Remember one thing, a known monster is better than an unknown devil." "Why do you always make a fuss about that mere girl?" "She might look mere but I am sure she is not." "Why so?"

Pessimism followed in the old man's eyes and he then started to narrate the story. "A very long time ago, Xinjiang province was known to be the land of prosperity and happiness but a single mistake washed it all away. The whole story revolves around the Devil's book. The Devil's book has the world's knowledge of dark arts, cure for every curse and everything a man could ever want to know."

Jeanet It’s easy for us to fight the guards, and most of them end up running when they see us approaching. Hilda’s wolf and I run towards each other the moment our eyes meet. I hold her in a hug. We head to the castle and I look through the closet to find clothes for the wolves. I mostly find old clothes from the 1800s. I am beaming at Hilda and complementing her dress when the entire dining area goes silent, the scents of more wolves filling the area. .

The first time I went to the boutique to try on wedding dresses, I stumbled upon the staff playing their game of “Guess the Bride.” The big screen inside was displaying the package my fiancé had reserved. Eager to snag the commission, the makeup artist spoke up first: “I remember the bride is petite and delicate. She looks absolutely stunning in a mermaid dress.” The photographer chime in: “She has straight bangs and two dimples when she smiles.” “Oh, right—and a red mole on her collarbone. She looks best in an off-shoulder gown.” I froze right on the spot. I had waist-length, voluminous waves, no dimples, and certainly no mole. The person they were describing fit my best friend—Charlotte Ho