Page Size Of A Book Novels & Stories

"Anyway, let's find The Yearling." Jane had to make herself follow Lucy. Her feet felt heavy with guilt. There it was. The book looked long, all right, longer than A Tale of Two Cities. It was definitely a thicker book, but maybe it was just printed on thicker paper. Jane made herself flip to the last page to check the page number: 400. Twenty-two pages shorter than A Tale of Two Cities. Jane grinned like a fool. Caroline had read a shorter book than her.

In addition, she had filled the basket with plenty of tasty drinks that tasted like fruit juice. It was everything one could possibly want if they were going to lie on a blanket in the beautiful summer sun and read a book about elven history. I lay down on my stomach, placing the book in front of me. It was large and heavy. Just for fun, I flipped to the back—there were no fewer than four hundred and forty-nine pages in the book. And that was only volume one! I wondered how many volumes there were in total. I opened the big book and could smell the traces of time in it. All I hoped for was that it wouldn’t be too dry to read.

Satisfied, I was about to close it when something caught my attention. The page numbers. I frowned. Page forty-three... Followed by... Forty-six. I turned back. Then forward again. Forty-three. Forty-six. The pages hadn't fallen out. They had been cut out. Cleanly. Almost professionally. I ran my fingertips lightly along the inner binding. There was no mistaking it. Several sheets had once been there. Now... They weren't. I sat back slowly. Perhaps... It had simply been damaged. Books this old were bound to lose pages eventually.

I flipped it in the next page but I only saw a blank page, all of the pages were now pure white like nothing is really written in there. "What are you doing?" I almost jumped in surprise after hearing a voice beside me. "Nothing," I answered and closed the book. His eyes widen just by looking at the cover of it. "Have you seen something in that book?" "Just the first page" I answered but he seemed so shocked by my answer. "First page?" He asked like I just did the most imposable thing in the world. "Yeah, this one." I flipped the book to the first page but it became blank suddenly. I just saw it a while ago! How did it happen? I checked all of the pages thinking that it must be in somewhere

“How much of it is about the portal?” Cassidy asked, jumping right in. Ward carefully opened the book to a point about three-fourths of the way into the volume, which looked to be about three hundred pages long. The sheets were a discolored yellow, and the ink, had clearly changed colors in several places, varying from a dark black to a lighter gray. It was clear the entire tome had been handwritten. Cadence envisioned an ancient Vampire sitting down with squid’s ink or the blood of a freshly beheaded chicken to dip his crooked talon in a well and scratch each letter out on the page.

The first page that he saw was a blank page which had a brown and old look on it, like it was published years ago 'Okay, so the book was unique after all. It gets me excited and eager to start reading it' After flipping the first page he went to flip the second page when he saw the title of the book and he knew from that moment that it was not a common story at all. He knew this after looking at the written title of the book on the second page below. There were words that shook him as shivers run down his spine making him have goosebumps nearly throwing the book away from him

Set it on the table and opened to the section where pages had been torn out. Four pages. Gone. Removed with surgical precision. I ran my fingers along the ragged edges still clinging to the binding. The paper was not yellowed like the rest of the book. Not aged. The tears were clean. Recent. Very recent. I pulled the lamp closer. Examined the binding. There. At the base of the torn section. A fragment. So small I had missed it the first time. A corner of a page that had not completely pulled free. I used my fingernail to carefully extract it. The fragment was maybe an inch square. Most of it blank. But in the corner. A few words visible in that same ancient script.

With deft movements, my hands grabbed all the books that could most likely answer the questions that felt odd in my heart. Unexpectedly, the books I took amounted to dozens that were close to a hundred, plus the books had the thickness of a ten-language dictionary. Very thick books with some of them having slightly worn pages, the writing was a little blurry because of time. Someone who wanted to read it had to be careful if they didn't want to make a mistake.

That I could handle. “Of course,” I answer, forcing a steady calm into my voice, even as I swallow down frustration. I turn back into the room, stepping carefully over Selene, who lies curled up in sleep on the trundle bed. Kael, with a triumphant little grin, lifts a book that could crush my soul. Its sheer bulk makes my heart falter—it is enormous, heavy, endless. It might as well be The Never-ending Story, because the sight of it alone is enough to make me want to collapse. Five hundred pages, at least. Please, I beg silently, let there be giant lettering on every page. One word. Big and bold.

" The ones I mentioned are these here. - He points on the shelf and then hands it to me. I do the whole ritual whenever I pick up a new book, or at least new to me. I leaf through it, breathe in the aroma of the paper, read the back cover and the flaps. They are medium-volume books, less than two hundred pages long. The synopses captivate me. I try not to be swayed by the information that they are Max's favorites. I realize I'm deep in reading when Max takes them from my hands. "Not to read now.