Solid Wood Rotating Bookshelf Novels & Stories

The smells that filled my nose were heavenly all these old paper pages packed in the room permeated of leather and ink hints of oak lingered from the massive wooden shelves. I scanned my eyes above me along the perfectly carved shelving that housed them so many different shades of colors were on the spines none had names probably rubbed off over the years of use. Large solid wood tables with comfortable looking chairs were strategically placed throughout the main open area it was like a whole library was picked up and placed 900ft in the sky. As my eyes surveyed the section of the room I was approaching I could see open books on two of the large tables I watched them in fascination as I pass

In his collection he had vintage books, possibly even a few first editions of some classics, along with more modern titles. The floors were made of wood and a large, dark Greek-patterned rug was laid out on the floor. Tucked into one corner was a small round table, with the refreshments, and two wooden chairs. In the middle of the right wall was a grand fireplace. Sitting before it were two cushioned rocking chairs. I was just starting to daydream about all of the different adventures I could lose myself to in the pages of these books while tucked away in this little nook when a shadow filled the doorway.

A floating shelf beneath it holds exactly one book, a remote, and what I think is a small sculpture made of obsidian. The couch is a giant L-shape in matte charcoal leather, low to the ground and way too masculine for throw pillows. Of course there are no pillows. Or blankets. Or warmth. It’s kind of couch you sit on only after being invited, and even then, you sit up straight. The coffee table is a black slab of stone, no coasters, no magazines, no half-finished cups of coffee. There’s a fireplace, but it’s more like a design element than a source of comfort. Gas, of course, with sharp glass stones instead of logs. And even the air smells clean. Like cedarwood and expensive control issues.

Intrigued by the situation, I start picking up the books near me, heading towards the man I imagine to be the librarian. The library floor is made of dark wood, with wide planks that fit together perfectly, forming a harmonious pattern that seems to whisper ancient stories with each step taken. The corridors are wide, allowing one to walk comfortably among the many bookshelves made of wood, two shades lighter than the floor, filled with books that carry centuries of knowledge, even though many now lie on the floor. The library exudes a sense of order, as if the books have chosen to scatter on the floor deliberately, in a momentary act of rebellion.

This room was anything but humble, just like the rest of the place. The study was massive, taller than it was wide, with bookshelves climbing all the way to the arched ceiling. Dark mahogany wood glistened with polish, every edge and angle carved with detail. An entire wall was made of glass panels, currently frosted to block the harsh sunlight, casting a soft silver glow across the space.

It’s not too bad for a career plan if you don’t have an ounce of humanity. My eyes wandered around the living room. It was... beautiful. Not my father's definition of beautiful. There were no crystal chandeliers screaming for attention. No gold statues. No oversized portraits of dead men trying to look important. Everything here was quiet. Dark walnut floors stretched across the room, polished enough to reflect the warm amber lights hidden in the ceiling. A charcoal sofa large enough to fit six people sat in the centre, facing a long black fireplace built into a stone wall. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves climbed all the way to the second floor, interrupted only by a floating staircase that loo

Behind the huge table was an equally huge rotating chair. To her right, she observed a huge shelf that held the amount of books fit for a mini sized library that it made her wonder if he'd read all of them. The shelf was designed so beautifully that it had a smaller compartment for smaller items like pictures and small trophies. There were about three windows which were all tight shut but the room was still freezing cold. Her eyes darted to the corners of the ceiling and she noticed two large Air Conditioning planted at opposite sides of the ceiling which was covered with Plaster of Paris.

His amber eyes travelled upward through the towering shelves before a familiar softness settled across his expression. "It never gets any smaller," he murmured quietly. Arkael's smile deepened. "No." His gaze drifted affectionately across the endless shelves. "It doesn't." As Adelaide's eyes adjusted to the immensity of the room, another detail slowly began to separate itself from the wonder. Not every shelf gleamed with polished cedar. Here and there, entire sections bore unmistakable scars. Some shelving remained blackened, the timber scorched almost to charcoal before careful hands had sanded and sealed it to prevent further decay. Other shelves had been rebuilt entirely, their newer wood

There was also a ladder leaned against one of the furthest walls to allow access to even the highest shelves of the library. The floors were cherry oak hardwood with a cra**ling fireplace in it in a warm mocha colour and the lightning was a bit dim, the type of lightning you would expect from an assortment of candles and not electricity. I also noticed in the far end of the library there was a large table with four big chairs all around it, looking excellent to do homework on.

The shelves, which were works of art, crafted from rich mahogany with their surfaces polished to a gleaming shine, were reaching towards the high ceiling that seemed endless in a beautiful arrangement. Ethan suddenly seemed interested in searching for some books that he didn't even know where they were, as Jesse watched him from where he was standing without saying a word. He had offered to help the suddenly curious billionaire find what he was looking for, but he politely rejected the offer and continued to look through the unending lists of books.