Shakespeare Book Nook Novels & Stories

Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, full of antiquarian leather bound volumes. “I’ve always been a collector. Currently I’m building a collection from the Civil War era. I’ve now got a substantial number of volumes of Byron, Shakespeare. This one,” he moved to a shelf and pulled out a book, “Is a rare first edition of Othello. Have you read Shakespeare?” “A little.” “Baudelaire?” He moved to another shelf. “I’m not familiar with.” She felt conspicuously illiterate in his presence.

I said, genuinely impressed. “I always know the best places,” he replied cockily. We talked about everything and nothing, work, random childhood memories, the worst movies we’d ever seen. At some point, the conversation drifted. “I saw a copy of Macbeth on your shelf,” I said. “I’m fine with some of the books you gave me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? I’m going to get you more.” I smiled. “Thank you. What’s your favorite Shakespeare book??”

“The Book of Spells, preferably dark witches’ Book of Spells.” “Come again, My Lady?” “You heard her, Hudson. Bring us the book of spells. Your library has everything, correct?” Noah stepped in, intimidating Hudson with his intense gaze. What a bad beast. “I have it. However, it’s prohibited to let outsiders see it.” Noah snorted loudly. He took something out of his pocket and threw it to Hudson. “Is that enough?” “Honored Lord,” Hudson said, almost like he was pleading.

As she’s about to leave the room, someone called. “Hey, I’m leaving the hotel. My car service is waiting,” she talked to the person on the other line. “I can’t wait to see you here. We’ve so much to see and talk about,” Noah said. Cela gave her room one final look. This is the place where she leaves her old self. “We wanted to go to a specific place and it didn’t matter if the road was rough and the journey was long. In the end, we found different places for ourselves but these places were the destinations where we were truly meant to go,” she said to herself. The fourth book begins at chapter 1 in Paris. The End.

It was truly a sacred place. I plopped myself down on the wooden chair and buried my head on the burrow I made with my arms on the table. I sighed deeply, not understanding the pain and supreme tiredness I was feeling. Pain and tiredness wasn't new to me but this was particularly different. I grabbed my favourite book, Othello by Shakespeare and sat, running my hand along the spine of the book. I opened the book and it landed on a page that I had a left a note in. I skimmed the page, reading the parts I had highlighted with a light blue highlighter. I took the note and read it:

And there, off to the side, set apart from these two, was another large circular structure—although this one looked different from the others, classier. "Come see the new Will Shakespeare play in the new Globe Theatre!" yelled out a passing boy, holding a stack of pamphlets. He walked right up to Caitlin, and shoved a pamphlet into her hands. She looked down and it read: “the new play by William Shakespeare: The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.” "Will you come, Miss?" the boy asked. "It's his new play, and it's going to be performed for the first time in this brand-new theater: the Globe.”

After the dishes were cleared, Shannon disappeared to retrieve something important from her room and returned with a large hardcover book that she placed on the table between Aurora and Caspian with a decisive thud. "This is my picture book," she said. "From my competitions. Uncle Caspian, you have to sit next to Aurora so you can both see." Caspian raised an eyebrow at his niece. Shannon looked back at him with the perfectly composed expression of someone who had already thought several moves ahead and was waiting patiently for everyone else to catch up. Caspian moved his chair.

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It was only five short, trembling, pain-fuelled steps, but it felt like I had run a marathon and I was light-headed. I clung to the frame of the bed, steadying myself and catching my breath for a moment before pulling myself upright and reaching for the shelf for stability. My eyes scanned the spines. A bible, obviously, made sense and I had predicted as much. The English Pilot, Fourth Book, Treatise of the Sphere and of the Art of Navigation, A Mariner’s Guide to the Coasts of the Spanish Main, De Iure Praedae, and something that looked totally out of place, Clarissa’s Folly: Or, The Wager of Hearts. There were also a number of books that were blank on the spines, which was interesting.

HIS DARKEST SHADE BOOK-THREE ~Prologue~ “Even if you end up hating me for it.” His tone was vicious. “I might scare you,” he continued, his gaze roaming over her trembling form, “but they are far worse—formidable, vicious… and willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.” He gestured toward her. “Including you.” “Never.” She shook her head, her voice trembling but firm. “I’m not scared of your words. You’re just trying to scare me so I’ll listen to you!”