Sidebars In A Book Novels & Stories

“Yes. I did.” “What does that mean?” Gavin sits back in the booth, for the first time looking as unsure as I feel. “I’m not certain. Do you remember those middle grade books we read as kids, the ones with two sides? You read a story through one side, it ended in the middle, then you flipped the book and read a different story from the other side?”

I flipped it in the next page but I only saw a blank page, all of the pages were now pure white like nothing is really written in there. "What are you doing?" I almost jumped in surprise after hearing a voice beside me. "Nothing," I answered and closed the book. His eyes widen just by looking at the cover of it. "Have you seen something in that book?" "Just the first page" I answered but he seemed so shocked by my answer. "First page?" He asked like I just did the most imposable thing in the world. "Yeah, this one." I flipped the book to the first page but it became blank suddenly. I just saw it a while ago! How did it happen? I checked all of the pages thinking that it must be in somewhere

We will send the demons back to where they belong, but first we will make them live in the torture we create for them. *** This is the end 😭 but there is more in Book 2, My Devil's side, which is seven years in the future and is the last and final book to this story. I will load it in this book as the next chapter so it all together. Thank you for taking this journey with my characters and I hope you enjoyed. I love all the comments and gems. I truly appreciate the support. I hope to see you in my next book 😚

The closer I peek at the book, the more I see the bold title. “The tighter the pussy, the greater the bliss: a dick’s way to wet land.” It has the drawing of a monster cock in front of it, curved in the shape of a banana. My body’s already hot as I reach for the book. However, the moment my hand lands on it, something like a machine chimes. It's only then that I realize this isn’t a book. It’s a panel designed as a book. My heart thumps as a distinct groan echoes in the study, startling me.

Or someone else? I rise slowly, the book still pressed to my chest. My legs feel shaky, like they’ve been asked to hold more weight than they can bear. I place the book back on the table, trying not to let it slip again, and look at the pile she kept beside her bed again. I turn them one by one, checking the covers, flipping the insides. All of them are the same. Read properly. Marked in the margins. Notes in the corners. These weren’t trophies or distractions.

She pulled it out, sneezed once as dust motes tickled her nostrils, and lowered the book on the coffee table. The title was written in cursive gold letters, 'The Art Of The Body'. Clearly out of curiosity, she opened to the middle of the book, and her eyes nearly popped out in pure mortification. The book contained explicit diagrams of men and women in different, erotic, sexual poses.

Then he kissed her. Goosebumps appeared on Adler’s skin as he closed the book while gritting his teeth. ‘This is too cheesy!’ he shouted inwardly. "Nothing to see here besides comics," he sighed. Planning to stride out, his feet halted upon looking at the bookshelves again. He noticed that the books were put in a pattern. Three horizontal and three vertical. But at the center, the pattern was broken. One book was placed wrong. Then next, the pattern repeated again.

The binding looked older than the other textbooks, and something about its placement on the shelf struck me as odd. As I strained my eyes to get a better look at it, I noticed a small part torn on the ridge side of the book, a tiny imperfection that caught my attention. The tear was subtle, barely visible unless you were looking closely, but it seemed deliberate somehow, like it had been created to mark something specific.

Yam sliced it open slowly, hands trembling. Inside was their book. “The Art of Staying.” Cover: a sunflower. A crooked shelf. Two mugs—one chipped. And behind it all, the suggestion of a fan, mid-spin. Franc stared at it like it might whisper back. “Feels unreal,” Yam said. Franc flipped through pages. Some with artwork. Others with Yam’s poetry. Their story—wired beginnings and all—now bound in matte finish. “I think this book breathes,” Franc said.

Melinda's and Kieran's sharp, piercing eyes, scanned the endless rows of books. Zora led them around the library, pointing out the different sections and genres. There were books on philosophy, science, art, and history, each one meticulously cataloged and arranged on the shelves. The titles were written in elegant calligraphy, and the bindings were richly adorned with gold leaf and embossed lettering. Kieran and Melinda were overwhelmed by the sheer size of the collection, and they couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer amount of knowledge that was contained within these walls.