Quiet Book Novels & Stories

"The one at the central medical center. I have always been in contact with him." The Guard checked his records. "The primary healer for your younger daughter at the central medical center is Healer Rourke. His signature is on this evaluation report. The healer listed in your older daughter Nova's file is Elder Morwen. What is the name of the healer you have been in contact with?"

The scent of expensive cologne and the lingering heat of his touch clung to Quinn’s skin like a second silk robe. She sat tucked into a armchair in the corner of her room, a heavy book resting in her lap, but she hadn't turned a page in over twenty minutes. Her eyes were fixed on the same sentence, yet the words were nothing but blurred ink.

•|•|• "A keffer? Do not speak of those curses unless you wished to be cursed yourself." •|•|• [Kayos] Peace and Quiet. The darkness was my home and I reveled in the quietness that accompanied the midnight as I casually flipped through the book I was reading in the dark. Despite having no candle light to see, I was quite able to read the words as clear as if it where day, only looking up when the door suddenly opened.

he whispered, “Classic literature, today?” The white polyhedron, suspended in liquid turned murky with age, jiggled as it revealed: Future is Hazy. John chuckled as he returned his attention to the books before him. “Story of my life,” he whispered. “Story of my . . . ” Something whisked along the floor outside his office.

“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” He didn’t move, his gaze lingering. “You’ve been up here all day.” “I needed some quiet,” I replied, keeping my tone light. Jake tilted his head, studying me. “Quiet’s overrated.” I rolled my eyes, grabbing the book from the bed and placing it on the nightstand. “Not everything has to be loud and chaotic, Jake.” “True,” he said, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. “But sometimes, quiet’s just an excuse to avoid what’s really bothering you.”

I’d been through seven foster homes. Before each one sent me away, they stopped answering my questions, stopped looking at me, and let the house grow silent. I couldn’t stand that kind of silence. So I became someone who talked too much. When my biological mother finally brought me into the powerful Moretti family at seventeen, I tried even harder to make people like me. Within one day, I knew the guards’ birthdays, the school nurse’s favorite podcast, and where my classmates kept their emergency medication. My stepsister Bianca called it manipulation. My stepbrother Luca called it an addiction to attention. To cure me, he ordered my entire school and family not to speak to me for seventy-tw

" Shiloh paused. She looked Manuel straight in the eyes, a faint smile on her lips. "Want me to keep going?" Manuel went pale, but he still tried to defend himself. "It's not what you think. Rainee's always been timid. She's scared of the dark. Thunder terrifies her. Whenever there was a storm, she'd grab her stuffed bunny and come to my room. "After all these years, sleeping next to her on rainy nights just became a habit. That doesn't mean I loved her..."

Kieran's POV The sun was already creeping through the curtains, and Elara was curled beside me, still asleep. She looked soft. Peaceful, even. I stayed still, not wanting to ruin the moment. Everything was quiet, just the sound of her breathing and the occasional sound of birds chirping outside. It was the kind of quiet that felt rare, like the kind that only showed up when the world finally decided to slow down. My arm had gone numb under her weight, but I didn’t mind. There was something grounding about having her here. After everything, the chaos, the fights, the moments I wasn’t sure I’d earned her trust, this felt... good.

It was enough to make me question my sanity. Sitting under the oak tree, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil within me. Monica had spent countless hours with me here, sharing stories about the tree's ancient wisdom that flowed through the land. Monica had believed in things that others dismissed as fairy tales, and though I had always been skeptical, there was something comforting in those old legends. “ Meara!”

Alfred mistook my silence for embarrassment and pitifully offered me a glass of red wine. "Nelson, you've got to get out more. Stop obsessing over women all the time. Check this out. This bottle's on the house. Thirty thousand dollars a pop, reserved only for the big shots like us. This one bottle could easily pay your rent for the next few years. Here, try some," he said, handing me a glass.