Short Story Books Novels & Stories

Iman's eyes widened at this new information. Dabir loves to read? She was the one who used to encourage him to read more, and sometimes she suggested herfavouritee books, but he never read them. "And this is my room..." Madiha was about to take Iman to her room when Zamin entered and called them for dinner. After dinner, everyone sat in the living room with cups of tea. Kashif and Kamraan discussed politics and business, in which Zamin also participated, sharing his opinion.

he says and I shake my head, refusing his threats. “Or…” he says and takes his hands completely off of me. He opens the book and flip through slowly, his fingers teasing the edge of the white pages the way I wish he would tease my hard nipples. I press my legs together, looking for a way to keep down my lust and the crazy thoughts as a drop of juice slides out of my pussy lips into the lady panties I have on. “Or…” he says again and runs his finger down the page of my last writing. Tomorrow morning is Christmas morning.

I walked over to the children's books area, I was thankful no one was around as I sat down in a beanbag after grabbing a few books to read. "Ella, stop slouching around and get to work" my manager yells at me, there was no one in the shop while I was sitting around here. I looked up to see a woman standing next to the register, I huffed angrily and put the book away before walking over to the nice looking lady. "Hi ma'am, how may I help you?" I ask the woman, she was only about five feet tall, with brown long hair and brown eyes. "Hello, I'm here for the new werewolf story" she says looking at me, I tried my best to hide under my own overgrown bangs.

I smiled. Alright, let's stop at the bookstore over there. They'd surely have those categories. We reached the bookstore and the driver stopped. Jessie asked, "Would you like to help me choose the books, Chase?" "Of course, let's go," I replied. We got into the store and made our way to the section for children and Jessie picked out a love story between a rich princess and a poor man. I was sure that Crystal hadn't read the story before. "Do you think Crystal would like this? It's a long read, about two hundred plus pages," Jessie asked.

She handed the bag of books. "What is this?" "Free books." "Huh?" "Uhmm, it has been like a month since you've came to the store so I've been wondering." She was avoiding Alkhun's Gazes. He opened the bag and it is full of fiction books. "Thanks." "Don't worry those are my books, collections of interesting myths in the West." "West..?" He remembered his mother on those 4 letters. He sighs and reaches for his bag to drink water.

Shelves sagged with forgotten stories and whispered secrets. A small bell tinkled as I entered, and an elderly man looked up from behind the counter. “Looking for anything special?” he asked with a gentle smile. “Something to help me find myself,” I joked, but there was truth beneath the words. He nodded knowingly. “Sometimes, the right story finds us when we need it most.” I browsed through the shelves, fingers trailing over worn spines until a slim volume caught my eye — *The Folklore of Lost Hearts*. I pulled it down and flipped through the pages filled with tales of love, loss, and the strange magic that binds us all.

I can tell Uncle Leo we aren't ready yet. 'I'm sure. I don't think it will help us, but it won't hurt either.' She said. I picked up the book. It was an old, deep brown, leatherbound book with the title in gold leaf. 'Tales of Olde'. It was heavier than I expected. Uncle Leo hadn't told me the title of the story so I skimmed the contents page. None of the titles mentioned an unnamed wolf. I sighed.

She poured herself another glass of cheap red, already on her third, and dropped onto the couch in her pencil skirt and blouse, buttons half undone. The city lights through the rain-streaked windows. Her laptop was still open on the coffee table, case files glowing like accusatory little rectangles. She should sleep. Instead she reached for the dusty old book she’d bought on a drunken whim two years ago at that weird occult shop downtown. *Daemonologie for the Modern Woman.* Stupid. But tonight it felt like the right kind of stupid. She flipped it open, scanned a page at random, and slurred the words under her breath. Latin? Probably, didn’t matter.

For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes. The w******l policy does not allow me to remove or delete those books, so they will remain there but as a "paused" book. You can find only the introduction of those books on w******l and no else more. But there you can find some covers I made for those stories and that I can not upload here. The stories of a single chapter will continue to be published, of course. Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories.