Pocket Novels Novels & Stories

The skinny man opened a gap in his clothes and showed it to Caspian, but he quickly covered it again. In that instant, Caspian saw no less than fifty pockets sewn into the man's clothes. Each pocket contained a picture book. Caspian never encountered such a thing before, so he was dumbfounded. Seeing his stupefied expression, the skinny man thought that Caspian was not interested in the picture books, so he pondered for a while and inched closer to Caspian again. "Master, if you don't like picture books, then what about novels? I have many novels of various themes that will surely satisfy you."

“Of course not. It’s just a house . . . my house, as you said.” “I can’t believe it. You’re Mr. Horror, and you don’t believe in ghosts? How is that even possible?” “Okay, Bias, I’m going to blow your mind with one hell of a revelation about writers and their stories. I’m pretty sure Lewis Carroll never fell down a rabbit hole into a magical Wonderland; it doesn’t seem likely that Anne Rice believes in vampires; and I highly doubt J.K. Rowling has met any real wizards. That’s what makes it fiction and not nonfiction.”

The silence was punctuated only by our quiet murmurs, our shared yearning for a past we never knew, a future we desperately wished for. Later, amidst the twisted metal and rubble, James stumbled upon a tattered book, its cover mostly torn away, revealing only a few words—'The Chronicles of Atheria'. The title alone conjured images of a world far removed from our own, a place of magic and wonder, of brave knights and epic quests. The pages, brittle with age and decay, contained fragmented stories, glimpses of a civilization that had flourished before the catastrophe. It spoke of vibrant cities, of advanced technology, and of a society that lived in harmony with its environment.

he says, his tone serious. "I think I know what this is." His brow furrows. "I read about this in one of the books in the school's library. I think it's a pocket dimension." "A pocket dimension?" I shake my head. "What does that mean?" "It's an intentionally—magically—constructed space. One with limits. Boundaries. Usually, they're set up to trap someone or protect something." "Like an all-powerful relic." I exhale all the air in my chest.

And also, I need to focus on helping my mother be treated. I get my laptop and my paperwork in the living room, where I put them last night and place it on my table so that I start working while eating. These novels that we will publish are just pocket novels, and it's our first batch of releasing this project. We usually don't intend to publish these types of novels because they are short. Then, however, it became a trend.

But I haven't been able to make up my mind about it yet, so I'm still on the fence. "Web novels?" Miranda repeated in surprise. "What kind of web novels?" Mindy smiled awkwardly. "Urban romance." Miranda was speechless for a while. Mindy was a published mystery novelist. Back when mystery novels had been all the craze, Mindy made her grand debut with "Murder Weapon" and sold half a million copies. Later in the same year, her follow-up thriller novel, "The Deserted School", broke her personal sales record in a very short time as well.