Novel & Cerita Prologue Books

Sounds on the castle floors. She walked towards the library and picked a book, she kept on the third self, this was usually were she kept all her books, her favorites and the one she was planning to read. "Blood and war, a angel weakness.." Madeline read the title as she turned the cover to read the prologue, the writer didn't have time to right much she thought to herself as she glanced through it. *She had seen fire, she had seen wars,she had seen life to its fullest and death at its worse.But now there was nothing left. Nothing but dust, endless, endless dust and a very broken girl.*

Playing dirty to get what we want. Authors note: This is the end of book one. Book two will continue under the same title. I hope you’ve enjoyed book one. Book two’s title is: The Promised Mate

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I said wondering where this whole conversation was heading, "I want you to protect her," he said turning his phone screen to me, 'her'? my eyes slowly fell on the screen, a girl with her blonde hair packed in a ponytail sat with a pile of books by her side, she is obviously a nerd even her big round glasses say a lot, she looked fixated on whatever information she was getting from the book that even if an attack was to happen in the room right beside her she may not even know, but something about her made me feel there was more than what meets the eyes, "A girl really?" I asked in a bored tone,

Because there was no cover to lift. The book never closed. Because there was no cover to lower. The book was the opening. The book was the closing. The book was the reading. The book was the read. All one. Always one. Without oneness. This. The final chapter is not final. There was no first. There was no sequence. Only this. Appearing as sequence for a while. Appearing as progression. Appearing as development. Appearing as climax. Appearing as resolution. Appearing as dissolution.

When we weren't training, she made us spend all our time in the library. “Is it wrong to read those books?” I asked. “No. It's never wrong to read, sister.” She cupped my cheeks softly. “But the power in reading is knowing which information you can weaponize and which one to ignore. The lies in books are just as much as the truth.” I nodded, already committing her words to memory. She sighed and drew closer to me. “Remember this, Eloise. No one out there is your friend. They're all enemies waiting to strike you the minute you let your guard down. Use every weapon at your disposal to destroy your enemies before they destroy you. Always make the first move.”

The moment she placed it on the table, I felt something respond in my chest—a recognition that went deeper than conscious thought. "That book," Lyra said with awe and terror. "It calls to us. It knows what we are." "This," Elder Morrigan said softly, "is the Chronicle of the Golden Wolves. It contains the complete history of your kind, their abilities, their purposes... and their enemies." I stared at the book, feeling drawn to it and terrified of it in equal measure. "Why are you showing me this now?" "Because," Elder Morrigan said, her voice growing grave, "the Shadow Covenant has not faded into obscurity as we hoped. We have received reports of their activities, their interest in the rece

Lily literally falls for every hot dude she meets either in good circumstances or bad ones. “He is the Bratva’s first son, Vincenzo Salvatore De Luca.” My jaw ticked and my fingers dug into my palms, almost drawing out blood at the mention of his name. “Oh my gosh! He is so hot!” “Let’s go, Lily. I need to speak to Dad.” I walked past the dreamy girl, who wished she could have Vincenzo towering over her while whispering sweet nothings into her ear. But she had no idea that the devil does none of that.

I cough when it raises a puff of dust into the air on its way. “I gave you all the ones with more pictures,” Roger murmurs, closing his book and reaching for his next as well. “Wanted to make it easy on you.” My mouth drops open in a little outrage at his implication there but then I see the upturned corner of his lip. “Liar,” I say, smiling down at my book as I open the cover. The title page reads A Complete History of the Cults of the Dark God, 1862. “You just didn’t want to get your hands and clothes dusty touching all these old ones.” Passively, I gesture to my clothes – which are indeed covered in a light layer of grey library dust.

I tell her, remembering I am now her new tutor. "Okay," she sighs. "What would you like to read?" I ask, and as if I made her day again, she smiles brilliantly and answers: "Ovid's Metamorphosis!" I can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Why that book?" I am intrigued a little girl would be so excited to read a book meant for college students. I should know. I had to read the book as part of my mythology elective. "Because of the gods and goddesses!" She simply answers.