Take My Hand Book Novels & Stories

I quickly texted back a thank you and clicked the file again. I read through the introduction. It was more of a personal diary than a handbook but the writing was precise and straight to the point. It got me hooked and I found my sense flipping pages and consuming every knowledge. I saw some things that I have already experienced, like the reading people's minds while healing and I also saw some that I haven’t experienced yet. My visions were still just limited to when I heal people but according to the handbook, I will also be able to read minds by just touching someone. Oh, I think I will like that a lot.

I hadn’t even noticed it the whole time he was attacking me for being loud. He extended it to me. I took it gingerly, as if the electricity that came from when we touched might transfer through the paper. I turned it over in my hands. “Student Handbook” was written across the front of it.

He moved as he opened the cup board down at his left and brought out a paper that contained a timetable and he gave it to her. ‘Jacob also has a copy and he knows what I am doing. Lessons have to begin tomorrow after breakfast at the greenhouse.’ She picked up the timetable, not meeting his eyes and glanced at it in her hand for a few seconds. When she didn't have any more thing to say, she stood up taking the CV with her. ‘Excuse me, I will like to go and prepare my notes for tomorrow.’ Before she was able to turn around, he called her. ‘Mrs Jackson?’

The only person that could ever shake my heart would remain Sally, except Sally, no other person, nor any situation would be capable of making my heart beat, or skip. "Hold", one of then said pointing to the paper. "I have seen it, it corresponds", another replied. They were studying the paper keenly and nodding their head. It was as if they haven't found any fault in the paper yet. "Have this", one of them said bringing me back to reality forcefully. He stretched his hand towards me, handing me the three books. I took them from him and passed them unto my accountant.

Then slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward and picked it up. No return address. No markings. Just her name. Ava Sinclair. Written like it meant something to whoever left it. She opened it. Inside: one photo. A blurry surveillance shot of her walking into Hart & Co. headquarters. On the back, a handwritten note. “You’re already in too deep. Walk away.” A chill crawled up her spine. She dropped the envelope, reached for her phone and cursed. No signal. Ava spun toward the windows. Someone had cut the Wi-Fi. Why the hell would they

“There you go. Our policy states that every borrowed book must be returned in three days.” “You have nothing to worry about,” I replied and tried to lay my hands on the book but he pulled it away from my grasp. He turned to Miles. “You’re the one whose details were captured. You should take it.” Miles nodded and grabbed the book. I frowned. “One more thing!” The bookkeeper called our attention just when we turned around to leave. "The heart must choose. The hands must heal. Or the curse will seal." He said.

“Bring it to me.” “Uh… okay. Okay, sir.” When she returns, she hands me a small, leather-bound book. The cover is worn soft, the pages faintly warped from being handled so often. I open it, and her handwriting spills across the pages—small, neat, and impossibly full of a tenderness I never let myself see.

I looked at his hand on mine and my heart was going and I could feel the warmth of his fingers spreading up my wrist and I did not understand why such a small thing was making me feel like the room just tilted. His hand was not special. It was just a hand. Fingers and knuckles and skin. But it was his hand. It was the hand that had caught my highlighter without looking. It was the hand that had pulled me to my feet in the stairwell. It was the hand that turned pages in his textbook and pointed at sections of the case study and reached for his coffee without looking because he already knew where it was. His hand was on mine and I did not want him to move it.

“Here,” Ezra said, sliding something soft and familiar into my hands. My cheeks were flushed, and I forced myself to look at what he handed me. It was a dark leather book that was titled ‘The History of The Betas of Black River.” I recognized this book from the library; it never seemed important enough to even skim through, though. I raised a brow at him, waiting for him to explain.

talking to him in the middle of the street so that she becomes the next topic of gossip in the entire town. Her journey towards inside was interrupted when he held her hand touching her for the first time as the sparks flew throughout her entire body and her tummy felt weird with all the butterflies flying around. He forcefully turned her around pulling her close. "I wouldn't! Would I? I think I will if you try to explain sweetheart" he said, But the smiling and cheerful aura left his face and everything that was left was darkness and anger in his grey orbs. Before she could say anything or try to pull her hand away from him his phone rang and he himself left her hand. Picking up his phone h