Original Burn Book Cover Novels & Stories

Feeling particularly nosey, I pulled one of the books down and looked it over. It had an olive green-colored cover with gold and black depictions drawn all over it. The edges of the pages were bright red and worn, so I knew it was a book that had been thumbed through frequently. I turned it over to look at the title and snickered at what I read: The Occult Truth of Lycanthropy. "The old man always did have an active imagination," I muttered under my breath, smiling as I put the book back on the shelf. I wiped dust from my hands onto my jeans and turned the attic blight off as I left the room. I could hear the sound of my parent's car driving up the pathand all thought of the book was gone as

If it wasn't pilfering documents to burn or alter, it was mapping something. Bridie, crouched near the lowest shelf, went suddenly still. "Cormac. Look at this." She held up a slim, ancient volume, its spine cracked from repeated handling that shouldn't have been possible on a sealed wing nobody had entered. The cover was bare of gold leaf or heraldry, bound in rough, unbleached calfskin that had darkened with age to the color of wet pine. She held it carefully by the edges, her breath catching as she stared down at the handwritten script illuminated by our single lantern.

I whispered. I stepped closer, the herb’s sting already making my skin prickle even through the cloak. My hand shook as I pulled the book down. The cloth burned my palm, but I didn’t let go. “Shit,” I hissed, clenching my teeth against the pain. I ripped the cloth off, throwing it aside. The sting didn’t stop, but when I looked down, my heart stopped altogether. The leather cover was old. Dark. Stained. And burned into it was one word.

The one she swore she’d never open unless she had to. It wasn’t really a book anymore at all. It used to be, once — long ago, before water and smoke and teeth and panic had worked on it. Now it was a block. Thick and lopsided, bound in mismatched leather, edges burned and split. Half the pages were gone, charred to curls. The writing that remained had bled in places, ink like old blood, symbols Baylee didn’t recognize, stuttering between languages that shouldn’t have sat together.

"Sure. I'll give it a try." Her eyes lit up. Soon, she pressed her lips together, nodded, and stepped back to the counter. I took a sip, and it felt like warmth had finally settled into a part of me that had stayed cold for a very long time. Just then, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it; the publisher's editor had sent over a draft cover for my new book. The cover featured a gradually brightening deep blue expanse, with the title "Crossing" printed across it.

Just as I was at the brink of despair, Jared rushed through the fire like a hero and saved me. After I was rescued, I sat in the fire truck, trembling in fear. Jared came and draped a blanket over my shoulders, calming me down with his gentle gesture and warm smile. I had never felt so safe. After that, I bought a lot of fruits and went to the fire department to thank him. That was how we got acquainted with each other. At first, he gave me mixed messages. It was hard to get him to reply, no matter how many messages I sent him.

she said, reaching for the ledger. The moment her fingers touched the cover, pain lanced through her hand. She gasped, jerking back, but it was too late. Blood welled from a tiny cut on her palm, a cut that hadn't been there before, and dripped onto the ledger's cover. The book absorbed the blood like parched earth drinking rain, then it began to glow. Silvercrest runes materialized across the cover, shifting and rearranging themselves. With a soft click, the book fell open to the first page.

Rowyn POV “This one looks ancient as fuck,” I muttered, dragging a dusty, leather bound beast of a book towards me. The cover had a silver sigil that pulsed faintly, like it was breathing. Kyren leaned over. “It’s humming.” “No shit,” I said, flipping it open. Aster whistled low. “Uh… Rowyn? That page is glowing.” Yeah. No kidding. The script wrote itself as we watched, ink blooming across the yellowed parchment like spilled wine.

The cherry finish caught the light in such a way that it highlighted the etched designs. I flipped the lid open to see the primary focus of the gift. The book’s rose-colored cover was embossed with silver designs. Its title ‘A Warrior’s Heart: Avalynn’s Fight for Justice’ stood out. A sword covered in flames pierced through the title. It looked really fucking cool. Ava had developed a love of reading, not that any of us were surprised about it. She certainly took after her mother in that regard. Our daughter could go through books faster than anyone that I personally knew, which was saying something.

But one particular book caught his attention. It was larger than the others, and was just sitting on top of the pile of scrolls. This particular book didn't look like it had aged a bit. Its pure leather cover shone brightly almost as if it was just polished. It had an engraved symbol that looked really ancient on it. It was just the pages that were a little yellow as a result of age. The pull he felt towards the book was so strong that Lyon picked it up and immediately tmhe felt a spark of energy that made his heart skip. The book seemed to have come alive under his touch.