Tempest Book Shop Novels & Stories

I brushed off my thoughts and went scanning other books. But before I did, I look on my surroundings. There are a few students who were reading just like me. They are also wearing casual clothes for the meantime. No way, I'm going to stay here alone. Who knows ghosts or that shapeshifter might popped out here? I sighed out of relief and went back reading. "The History of our World," I read the title written in the ash gray book cover. This is the World of Tempest. It is once a dark turbulent, stormy continent everyone might see.

Can he ignore the attraction he felt for her, feelings that resurfaced after ten years? What will Alyssa do when she is stalked by the man who has been invading her dreams since the day she met him? What will she do when she is whisked away to a deserted island by the unpredictable Nicholas Donnelly? Can she tame her heart or surrender to the sinful temptations? Read this third book of the Temptation Series to find out!

Collins stared at Blake suspiciously and questioned, "There was a storm yesterday. How come they were no thunder flashes or rain patters in the audio?" Blake's lips twitched a little while his mother smiled and answered softly, "We didn't experience heavy rainfall yesterday, only a light drizzle and there were no thunderstorms. As you know, we live on the hill and this place is far from the big city, so it's normal that the storm didn't hit us or don't you so think detective?"

a bookshop. No sign. Just books visible through the window. Stacked without system, the specific beautiful chaos of someone who had been accumulating them for years and had stopped pretending organization was possible. Eve looked at it through the windscreen. "She's inside," Vessa said. "Does she know we're coming," Eve said. "No," Vessa said. "If she knew she'd run." Damian looked at Eve. Eve looked at the bookshop. At the warm light through the window. At the chaos of spines visible from the street. At the life a woman had built in a small village four hours from everything she'd once been.

he said. "Call him," she said. "I'm going to Theron." Hart Books was on Victoria Street. Theron had run it for twenty-two years — the kind of Edinburgh bookshop that existed because the owner loved books more than margins, floor-to-ceiling shelves, a specific smell of old paper and radiator heat. Yessica had grown up in the back room doing homework on the counter. Theron was behind the desk when she came in. He looked at her the way he always looked at her when something had happened — steady, no alarm, just fully present.

Calm Before the Storm (Isabella's POV) The library smelled like old paper and cedar polish. Sunlight slanted through tall windows, catching dust motes that floated lazy in the air. I’d slipped away after the snowball fight, cheeks still pink from cold and laughter, needing quiet to sort through the mess inside my head. Shelves stretched high, packed with leather-bound books that looked older than the pack itself. I pulled one down at random, thick, dark cover stamped with a crescent moon. Ancient Mate Bonds: Stories of the Moon Goddess’s Gift and Curse. My fingers traced the title. I sank into a worn armchair, opened it, and started reading.

I guess I have to be nice. I looked around and found a receptionist and then I rushed up to her. "Good day." I greeted but didn't receive a response. "I'm here to see Mr. Jarvis." She nodded before checking her computer "Name please and do you have an appointment?" "Amelia Harper, yes I do." "Top floor, check the elevator." I could still make it. As I turned back to take the elevator, I bumped into a man, looking up to see him, I was completely captivated.

I’ve been a sex therapist for half a decade, specializing in high-conflict intimacy and trauma-informed desire, but nothing in my textbooks prepared me for the way that woman looked at me in the dark of a biker bar. Elena. I’m drying off when my phone buzzes again. This time it’s a FaceTime call from Prez. I sigh and answer, propping the phone against the mirror. The scarred, laughing face of my best friend, also the president of Iron & Ink fills the screen. He’s already at the clubhouse, a mug of engine-sludge coffee in his hand. "Well, well. Look at the Doc. You look like hell, Deluca. Late night?"

<■■■■> KYLIE POV: I DITCH Sam's motorcycle downtown and check into the No–Tell Motel on Miracle Mile, a place where can pay for a room with cash and rent by hour. Porn is showing on the television in the room. Nice. Very nice atmosphere. I switch it off and pull out my laptop. I'm dying to lose myself in code. No, I'm dying in general. I haven't felt this lost, this destroyed since my father's death. Back then, Mémé was the only thing that kept me going. If I don't have her now...

“Life has been pretty good since I met you. - For me too. The champagne arrived and the waitress opened the bottle and poured it with ceremony, a stream of pale gold bubbles, first in Theresa's glass, then in his. “I'll leave you alone for a few minutes, then I'll come back to take your orders. Theresa lifted her glass. "May the book tour be wonderful." Weird hours, horrible beds, lonely nights in hotel rooms. enter the bookstores wondering if they would have their books, if anyone would show up. Slowly, he lifted the glass. "May they all be like tonight," she said. Tonight. Theresa's hand was in his as they entered the store. Your attentive face audience. Your assistance when questions got