Self-help Books New Novels & Stories

Thank you so much for your patience and support, during the break. I’m writing a new book called “Stealing the Alpha's Soul. It is for the Spirity Awards. Please check it out and support it. I’ll really appreciate it. Thank you for coming with me so far, I really appreciate it)).

I’m also an author on Plopnow, it’s a kind of interactive app. If you want to read more of my books on this platform, you can search for The CEO’s secret and Beautiful faults. I hope you get to love them. Thank you so much for the support, I’m so grateful. Love always❤️❤️

I said, grinning from teeth to teeth like a child. We walked into the library. It looked like it had been a while, since it was in use. We went through several sections which included, finance, self-improvement, ethics, business amongst all. I caught a glimpse of a book I had been wanting to read, “Atomic Habits” by James Clear. I picked it immediately, and started going through it. After a while, I noticed I wasn't hearing any sound from the cook. I looked around and found her wiping tears off her eyes with the hem of her apron.

I mean, I’m used to my own organized chaos, but this—this feels like I’m trespassing in a space I have no business being in. I throw myself onto the couch—her couch, which, for the record, has zero crumbs on it. It’s like the couch doesn’t even know what a crumb is. I run a hand over the cushions, unsure whether I’m impressed or just slightly intimidated. There’s a stack of books on the coffee table, which is, of course, alphabetized. I grab the one on top and flip through it. It’s one of those self-help books, the kind people like to pretend they don’t need but secretly read every morning before their third cup of coffee.

I felt heat start to pool low and a blush start to crawl up my neck. "About his ability to make himself everyone's problem." "Well, that tracks. At least from the little bit I've known him." She leaned closer to Rowan's section and started reading the titles off like she was browsing a bookstore. The books were a chaotic mix, some genuinely useful, others questionably so, but all jammed together in no particular order. She pointed to the first spine, reading it outloud, her voice dripping with judgement. "How to Win and Argument Without Throwing a Punch."

I did you a favor by using my photo, and you don't even appreciate it! I was at a loss for words. My face might have been plain, but I had been listed among the top ten prettiest girls in middle school on a popular review site before. Sadie had not always been this crazy. Ever since she started streaming to please her oddball viewers, she had been changing her appearance to look more and more outrageous. They all praised her, calling her a beauty in her streams. I needed to figure out how to explain this mess to my boyfriend. Our relationship might have started online, but I knew who he really was.

The PA replied. “Wow!” my adrenaline glands rushed, and I gasped for air. “Interesting, I can help bring out my best here.” I replied with a beautiful smile. “Thanks in anticipation, ma'am.” His face focused. “Which exactly are they interested in, self-driving cars, solar-powered vehicles, or any other one?”His face narrowed. “Wow, ma'am, you have many ideas on this already.” “Yes, I'm a business analyst.” Glancing at him. “Okay, I remember,” he said, nodding his head.

Except for Eli. He was sitting at register three, legs kicked up on the counter, sipping coffee from a thermos shaped like a rocket ship. “Did we swap personalities?” she asked, setting her bag down. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “So I figured I’d alphabetize the self-help books by level of delusion.” Callie arched a brow. “What’s top of the list?” “‘Manifesting for Millionaires.’ Right above ‘Confidence in Six Minutes or Less.’”

he called back, his voice warm as sunlight. The sound of the door clicking shut was the last thing I heard before sleep reclaimed me, pulling me back into its embrace. *** I found myself rummaging through a stack of books that likely belonged to Jacob from his university years. None of them were fiction. These were all about life lessons and self-improvement. Titles like Rich Mindset and Atomic Habits caught my eye, their well-worn spines suggesting they had been thoroughly read. But one title stood out above the rest, stopping me cold:

Rachel nods thoughtfully. “Ah,” she says. “Medical reasons.” “Exactly.” She pushes open the door. She understands. After all, she’s the one who introduced me to the healing power of touching brand-new books. We start in the psychology section, as tradition demands. But we abandon it quickly. The covers are terrible. Way too serious. And most importantly: zero embossed lettering. From there we wander into the self-help aisle. I begin scanning titles desperately, hoping to find something useful.