Psychology Books Online For Free Novels & Stories

Damn, Freckles. The first book I pulled out was called “Images You Should Not Masturbate To”. I snorted, flipping through a couple of pages and shaking my head. That sarcastic streak of hers ran deep. I grabbed another, the title catching my eye: “How to Traumatize Your Children: 7 Proven Methods to Help You Screw Up Your Kids Deliberately and with Skill.” I let out a short laugh, one that came from somewhere I’d almost forgotten existed. Then there were the others—Fancy Coffins to Make Yourself, Do-It-Yourself Coffins for Pets and People, and, for good measure, How to Raise Your IQ by Eating Gifted Children. I shook my head, glancing back at her still sleeping form.

It was cluttered with books and materials of all sorts. Several opened books were scattered on the computer table, with red marks and notes scrawled across the pages. Someone had been studying very hard there. Nathan slowly walked over and flipped through the books. Psychology? He frowned as he took in the room. He saw a lot of books on the shelf that didn't belong to him. His gaze was locked on the titles. "Best Ways to Handle Toxic People". "The Key to Overcoming Nasty People" "Foundations of Psychology" Nathan's lips curled slightly as a smirk played on his face.

That's all their little chit chats in the kitchen revealed to Sheharzaad. Upon reaching the study, she knocked at the door before entering. She found him sitting on his chair reading a book. His books were mainly related to psychology, criminology, about serial killers and how their mind works. They all were non-fictional. Some books were business related. Some were related to human body as well which covered about the vital organs of human body and the weak points of our body. And many more along these genres which, she thought, helped him in his work.

The Silent Patient, The Art Of Dealing With People, Criminal Psychology, Bad Science, The Power Of Your Conscious Mind, Thinking Fast And Slow, Atomic Habits, Rationality, Talking To Strangers, Righteous Mind, The Theory Of Everything. I suddenly stopped reading the names of the books when my right knee hit the wooden shelf. I bent down and rubbed it, trying to soothe the pain. It's like a thunderbolt fell on my knee. It's a little ache but I react to it a lot for a moment. It's terrible, like a thunderbolt! Once again, I glance up at the shelf. It's filled with books which are related to psychology, human development and universe theories etc. I huff.

And that's enough to make me learn now. What I'm facing is far from romance and more painful. I snorted, looking at the psychology book. I put it back in the row and went back to looking for something interesting. Maybe contemporary novels, but I doubted that Sebastian had those here since most of what I saw were business, psychology, and a few history books. That's boring. I pulled out the back of a black-coloured book with no title. It didn't seem to be fiction or nonfiction—it was like a document book. Curious, I opened it, and there wasn't any title. It just had numbers 12-30. I didn't understand.

I sat on the floor, the wine bottle open and already half-empty, the sharp, acidic sting of the alcohol doing exactly what I wanted it to do—it dulled the sharpest edges of my panic. I started pulling books from the shelves, just looking for something, anything, to keep my mind occupied so I wouldn't have to think about my own life. That’s when I saw the folder. It was tucked between two thick philosophy tomes, unassuming and leather-bound. I pulled it out, expecting a journal or a history book, but the pages were filled with neat, dense handwriting and complicated charts. It was psychological research.

It was like my past was a locked room, and I didn't have the key. Giving up on simply remembering, I scanned the bookshelves. Maybe, just maybe, I could find some answers there. I picked out a few books on psychology, titles that looked promising. I settled back into the armchair and began to read, immersing myself in the world of complexes, traumas, and the intricate workings of the human mind. I read about common psychological complexes, the impact of childhood experiences, and the long-lasting effects of trauma. I devoured the words, searching for clues, for anything that resonated with my own experiences, anything that could shed light on the jumble of emotions and anxieties swirling wit

The room was filled with shelves of books. I hadn’t ever liked to read, but it was better than sitting around doing nothing. I went to the first shelf and frowned at the title. “Financial Analytics… Psychology: A History…” I kept walking. I didn’t know what any of these books were supposed to be about, but I kept looking for something that seem more interesting and something I could understand. I heard people walking down the hall past my room. “She can clean up after herself,” someone said. “What I would give to have a night alone with the alpha… It’s such a waste on that half breed.”

I blushed, shook my head, and cleared my throat. “I mean, I’ve been planning to give you since you solved the assignment. The book is very important, it costs the owner’s life.” “What?” he asked in surprise. He’s too young to know the story of the book. The book isn’t popular because it’s the author’s first book. He was a psychologist and also labelled a psychopath. What he wrote in the book was facts about human nature, how to read people and how to make them respect you at all costs as their boss.

'Mr. Rockwell, are you listening?' I said and stood up from my desk. My cabin was like a medium-sized room with a shelf on the left full of files of my clients. There was another shelf on the right-hand side in the corner which had many books mostly about psychopathy and some books related to calm someone's mind. I mostly recommend that ones to my patients. In the middle of the room was my table, I had one chair on the wall side for me, behind my chair there was a window. A beautiful lawn could be seen from there.