Personalized Leather Bible Niv Novels & Stories

"That's a Bible." "Ooooh! So this is the 'baibo' they use to ruin our men and women! Ha! Who said I wanted to be a sorcerer? Anyway, take it back to them. Tell them we've heard of it and do not need it for even a second." He dropped the Bible at the man's feet. "And this - what is it?" "That's a letter." "Mmh! 'Aleta'? What's 'aleta'? Is it another talisman?"

Inside, the silence was warm, sacred and soothing to the soul. Auther sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the worn leather-bound Bible in his lap—the same Bible he had left behind the night he walked away from everything he knew. Michael had delivered it that morning, a quiet but monumental gesture. No sermon. No guilt. Just a nod, and the words, “It’s yours. Still.”

Columns of faint silver light rose from the floor, rearranging the void until the space resembled something between a courtroom and a cathedral. At the center, a plinth formed. On it rested a book. It wasn’t the Great Ledger. It was a derivative. Smaller. Thinner. Personalized. My name wasn't written on the cover; it was embedded into the leather, as if the book had grown around the letters. I approached without hesitation. Each step felt lighter than the last, as if gravity were a luxury the system was slowly taking back. When I placed my palm against the cover, the sensation was immediate.

“Winked at me, the son of a bitch.” Richard looked down at what he’d been given. It was a Bible, the object the admiral had been holding in his lap—removed from its lectern not twenty-four hours prior when Lawrie had hugged himself and ran out of the church with it beneath his jacket. Leather-bound and tattered, really, really old. Rich lifted the worn cover and saw it was printed in a foreign language, glimpsed D. Martin Luthers on a crumbling inner page, 1670 below that. German. Over three hundred years worth of old. But why—

But at the front door, he said something, words leaving his tongue laboriously. "The Bible," he whimpered to me. Immediately, I ran back into his office, rummaging through the mess. It was in the most obvious place I didn't think to look in - on the last standing bookshelf, as the last standing book - the Hebrew Bible. And the irony was piercing - Abraham looked through every book that Ben owned except for the holy book itself. A book that would most like burn Abraham or his minion's hands if he were to touch it. Purposefully ignored, this sacred book had the parchments tucked throughout the pages of the 18th chapter of "2 Kings." My hands graced the leather cover, gliding over the "Holy Bib

Richard said as he looked at me and back at the fire, sucking on his pipe. “Are you ready?” Ben sat on the sofa beside me, and the cushions threatened to swallow us both into its comfort. Was I ready? Ready for what? He reached to pick up the King James Bible. Beneath it was various other books, none that I recognized except a translation of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

I said confidently, as I wiped off my tears, “Anne please bring my Bible. I will like to offer a prayer" ‎"Right away Porsha" She agreed rushing out of the room, and a few seconds later she ran back in but not with the Bible I requested for but with a covered basket. ‎ ‎"Porsha there's a problem" She voiced with urgency plaguing my intrigues. ‎"What's wrong?" I asked in a whisper, my voice shaking. ‎"This is a gift for you, from Leviathan" She informed, pointing at the basket in her hand and I froze.

He said, tightening my arm around his, his Rigid posture The priest stood at the end of the aisle with the holy bible in his hand, his eyes darting left and right through the tiny eyeglasses that hung on the bridge of nose, The poor man looked just as terrified as I felt, his fingers nervously flipping through the gold-edged pages of the scripture, trying to buy time as the clock ticked past the scheduled hour. In the next second, a little smile of relief stretched on his lips. I spun my head around, And there was Lucas,

Boaz declares, flipping through the pages of the Bible. Tbc.

“Ermm…what choice do I have? This house isn't mine. You don't have to thank me.” “Oh! I insist.” She pushes the bag into my arms. “Come on, open it.” “O-kay…” Reluctantly, I slip my hand into the bag. I take out the object. It’s a huge book with a hard leather back. I flip it over, only to see three words embossed in gold. Wait, it is not just any book. A Bible! She got me a Bible? My head snaps up. “You got me a Bible?” “Yes!”