People Of The Book Synopsis Novels & Stories

“You'll have to prepare a tissue for that. It's so good that it made me cry at the end." "So you findished this already?” She was somewhat surprised because Xiana wasn't the type to finished a book in one sitting. “Yeah. It made me cry because it is so relatable. The plot revolves around two close friends who are stranded in a foreign country after being kidnapped and must make sacrifices in order to survive." "Aww, I can't wait to read this," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable. The book's nostalgic scent wafted from the pages, and she smiled to herself, thinking she'd read it tonight.

"Hidden love is better than open hate." - Matshona Dhliwayo Arthur's POV After a quiet night infront of the television forced to watch Ryan Gosling desperately trying to love some rich girl who's parents doesn't approve of them, but unlike real life things seem to work out for them. I peek over Lilith to find her fast asleep. People who tend to live separate lives should probably continue doing so. If someone writes a book about how a woman's mind works the first chapter should state why woman believe that love from two different worlds could actually work.

I finished eating the food then I dumped the pack in the dustbin and continued watched the movie on my phone. Brandon's Publishing Limited Cynthia's Pov I finished writing the last chapter of the book boss asked me to write. I arranged the books in my office and I carried my bag. My phone ringed and it was James calling. "Hi James" "I am waiting for you outside the company" he said. "Alright" I replied as I got inside the elevator. I reached the last floor and the elevator opened. "Goodbye Cynthia" "Bye Victoria" I got outside the company and I saw James waving at the car park. I walked towards him and he smiled.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh my god, I can't believe the gods gave you a great title. The world is doomed, I tell you, the world is doooomeed!!!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “So, the prophecy is about me?” I asked, finally grasping the concept. “Yes, it is about you,” the man nodded his head. “Wow, you wrote a poem about me? That's so sweet of you,” I exclaimed.

After I got it I pulled out a chair and sat in front of the table near it by the window. "Deceptive," I read in the written title of the book, I opened it in turn and what popped up to me was a picture of a large creature that was half human and wolf, its body full of feathers. “He has no death, to this day he is still alive, trying to save the woman he first loved and wants to be with for life,” I read here. There was some spark that flowed through my being. I wasted no more time and I opened the book, but my torn eyebrows met its pages, even if I looked over and over I could not read anything, until I got to the back of the book and there was I noticed a very small letter.

Feeling better, I put a cigarette between the bulbous lips and lighted it with trembling hands. “We must walk now,” she said while supervising the unloading. The two men emptied the trunk, threw the contents on to their back, and waited for her instructions without any apparent discomfort. An average idiot would have waited for her instructions without the load on the back. Some people get kicks out of strange ways! Shaking the head, I took three more mouthfuls. As I watched them standing there with all that weight, a deep sense of sorrow was felt in the heart, so took one more swipe before breaking into a loud laughter.

The shelter on 9th and Crenshaw looked smaller than Meekey expected. Just a square of brick and peeling paint, wedged between an auto shop and a boarded-up deli. But when she stepped inside, warmth radiated from every corner—blankets stacked neatly in bins, laughter drifting from the kitchen, volunteers handing out hot bowls of soup to people who hadn’t eaten since yesterday. It was the kind of place Meekey never would’ve stepped foot in before prison. Back then, her pride was too sharp. She used to think places like this were for the weak.