The 100 Books Original Covers Novels & Stories

She then ran towards another person and after a few minutes, she dropped a notebook in front of me. "Let's copy Hina's assignment now while the teacher is not here yet." She said as she brought her notebook and really just started copying the assignment of others in front of me. 'I'm literary speechless. This girl is unbelievable.' She then paused and looked at me with confusion written all over her face. "I thought you don't have an assignment, this is your chance to have one while the teacher is not yet here." "No. I don't have notebooks and such." I then showed her my bag which only contained books for appearance's sake.

Back to the front cover. Kenneth gave me this book as a present. For drawing purposes, I know it's a sketchpad with white blank papers. Just ordinary... Yet now, I'm witnessing with my own two eyes how the plain abstract cover erased its colors, transforming into something red with cursive design at the center. Written in thick italic letters, THE BOOK OF STRINGS wrote itself as if there's an invisible hand with golden ink writing them. If I'm in my right state of mind, I would have screamed, tuck my tails, and bolt to ask for help. But I did nothing of those...

"You can wait here, I'll come to Mr. Miller." I nodded, and did what I had wanted to do for a long time. I walked over to one of the large shelves as she entered a hallway at the end of this room, and I was surprised because I thought these books were just replicas made of styrofoam. In fact these books are really original, or books that are copies of the original books. Which, of course, is also old. I pulled up a book called Bleak House by Charles Dickens. One of the books was dark blue with an old engraving on its back.

Turning the cover for me to see he said, “So this is your favorite book, huh?” Wondering what had him looking so sly I focused my eyes on the cover and I immediately felt a rush of heat flare through my body. The cover had a picture of the naked anatomy of a man and woman embracing each other sensually and the title read, ‘100 ways to spice up your life.' “If this is what you were here searching for in the library then I don’t think I have any problem,” he laughed patronizingly, and flicking through the pages he stopped at one and reading the words on it he continued, “Try being intimate in random or unfamiliar places-”

I headed toward the back room and started looking for the box she'd mentioned. I was curious why those books weren't allowed to be read freely. Was it because they were old? I opened the box and found several old books with dark brown, tan, reddish, and primarily black leather covers, each with a unique texture. The titles were stamped in faded gold lettering. There were about ten thick books in total. It almost slipped out of my hands when I picked up the last one. It fell to the floor, landing face up to reveal the title: "The Dark History of the Maximillian Kingdom."

Not even slightly. This man, I shook my head slowly, moving further inside with my arms tucked close, not touching anything. This is actually stunning. A desk sat clear in the center — except for a lamp, a pen holder with pens arranged by height, by HEIGHT, and a small neat stack of books to the right side. I drifted toward them naturally. Business. Economics. Architecture. And then— I stopped. Picked it up. A woman on the cover wearing thin panties. Long legs. Strappy bra. The kind of cover that needed absolutely no explanation about what was inside.

Without looking to Owen for confirmation, I say, “We do. Please, explain.” She opens her bag and removes a few tattered paperbacks. The spines are unreadable, they’ve been cracked in so many places. One is missing a cover. All of them have a forest of neon tabs jutting out from their sides. I hear Hannah’s audible gasp of delight and admiration. I’m surprised she doesn’t ask for the brand, style, and inventory number of the tabs. “Our pack is so obsessed with the story of our origins, that we ignore the story of our ending.” She opens one of the books and it lays flat, pages perilously close to falling out. There’s a woodcut illustration of Fenrir devouring Odin.

The book cover was made of thick leather with parchment pages tightly bound together with twine. With trembling hands, Anna opened the cover and began reading the first page, and the next, and the next. She was astonished to see the text was word-for-word the exact same as the manuscript her publishing company was about to release in a few days, plus several thousand years in the future.

he growled and out of nowhere Lilith was in front of me with another book in her hands. It was another big book, its cover was not normal, you can tell it by single glance that it was not written in this era. The pages were golden yellow and the cover was made of skin. Books before sixteenth century were used to have animal skin as their covers. Damien took the book from her hand and started flipping pages. The smell of old book hits my nostrils and it only confirmed my suspicions. He stopped after flipping twenty or so pages and turned the book towards me. There was a sketch, a drawing of a necklace on the right side of the book.

But hope, like magic, has a price, and I am increasingly aware of that price. The book itself is a work of macabre art. The cover, made of dark leather that almost appears black, pulses with a life of its own, as if it were breathing. The leather is stained with deep shades of red, almost as though it has been soaked in blood over the centuries, giving it a sinister and throbbing appearance. Along the edges of the cover, aged silver chains are interwoven in complex patterns, depicting ancient runes and seals of protection, symbols only an enchantress could decipher. The title of the book is carved into the leather in rustic letters, subtly glinting with ruby, as though the words had been wri