Short Novel To Read Novels & Stories

To her dismay, Jane found herself walking down the hall to English with Lucy by her side, still talking, talking, talking. "I didn't know you were such a big reader, Jane," Lucy said, smiling at her. "I guess because your book-report books are always so short. But length isn't what matters in a book. I love a lot of short books, too. Just look at poetry. A poem can be any length. There are millions of wonderful poems that are only a few lines long. Like Emily Dickinson's poems. She can say more in two lines than most people can say in a hundred pages. What part are you up to in A Tale of Two Cities?"

she says, already reaching for my dad’s platinum card. When we’re back home, I grab my bags and rush to my room. Shutting the door, I sprawl on my bed and grab my e-reader. Plenty of time for me to read a couple of smutty shorts before I have to get ready. These stories are what keep me going, and they’re certainly the only sex I’ve been getting. Okay, okay, the only sex I’ve ever gotten.

The old castle stood high on the rocky hill where the forest met the mountains. Its stone walls were cracked and covered with thick vines. No one had lived there for hundreds of years. People in the nearby village whispered that the place held something dangerous. Something that burned hotter than any flame. Elias had heard all the stories but he still came anyway. At twenty six years old he felt stuck in his small quiet life. He worked in the village bakery during the day and spent his nights reading old books about forgotten magic. One book spoke of a fire demon who once ruled these lands. The words pulled at him until he could not stay away.

Only Randell closed his eyes. “You know you want me,” I whispered, wiggling out of my shorts. Now I was only clad in matching bra and panties. I slowly drew the lacy scraps of my thong down my ass and stepped out. Then, I unclasped my bra and let it drop to the floor. I stepped out of the tiny little puddle of lingerie and cupped both breasts. “Look at these tits…have you ever seen such ripe, pretty and perfect titties?” I pinched both nipples and gasped as they pebbled. “And how about this pussy? Sweet and tight, I promise. You know you want to taste. Why fight it?”

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.

We never got to see how they lived happily though, but the smile in the last scene after which the The End, flew or swivelled or zoomed in, made it obvious. Nisim did tell me later that The Thief was a short story and short stories ended that way! It was five pages long, much longer than the stories in the book Deuta had gifted me on my eleventh Birthday – Aesop’s Fables – the stories in this book were never more than two pages. And always with a moral at the end. The Thief didn’t have a moral – that was the best part though – I never liked memorizing morals. But the thing was, my brother was calling the longest story I had read till then, a short story! By then, though, I had some idea of a

she says, excited. “What do you have me reading,” I say, stunned. I mean after the times I’ve had with both Parker and Rafe nothing should shock me. But she’s 14! They actually put this stuff in books?? At 14 I was nowhere close to having extremely intimate thoughts about males! “I told you! It's called, “Love Under The Moon.” I’ve read it like four times, soo soo good,” she swoons. I gape at her, not sure what to think.

"That's up to you, Melanie. If you're comfortable with it. "Let me think about it, but I want to get there. Definitely yes to the rest." We reluctantly got dressed, and I walked Sandy out, kissing her goodbye on the patio. I told her I'd see her at the game tonight, and she drove away. I was still working through that anthology of short stories, definitely a step up from the technical stuff I had been doing. Normally I liked to do a non-intensive, casual reading of a short story before I dove into it, giving me a feel for the author's style and letting me enjoy the story, so I didn't get caught up too much while reading for mistakes.

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Allan picked up the only novel there which was in the far right corner almost covered by Allan's other tomes. Allan wasn't used to reading novels, just looking at the title made him lazy. 'Journey of Love?' Allan frowned. "Aish! What is this book? Never mind, it's better than nothing! Who knows, it might help me fall asleep!" Allan took the book which wasn't thick and returned to his recliner and started reading. At first he was lazy to read it but over time Allan was immersed in his new book, because the novel book was thin enough that Allan, who was used to reading thick Business and Management books, was able to finish it in a short time. Allan closed it. And looked towards the book.