The Arrangement: A Novel Novels & Stories

The photograph that is the first thing you see when you enter the room, that is positioned at eye level, that catches the light in the afternoon. The books in Vivienne's arrangement. Vivienne had been Alexander's assistant, had known Dom, had understood something about the way grief needed to be organized. She had arranged the books not by author or title but by association—the books Dom had loved on one shelf, the books that had been important to Alexander during the years of his brother's illness on another, the books that had arrived in the years since, sent by people who didn't know what else to send. The arrangement had not been touched since Vivienne had made it. It was not a museum di

I just wanted something to read until he got back. The office was warm, sunlight spilling through the tall windows onto the heavy desk in the center. It smelled faintly of leather and cedar, Aaron’s scent, lingering even in the air. I drifted toward the shelves. The books were arranged in that way only he would bother with: grouped by topic, then by size. My fingers skimmed over spines—business strategy, political biographies, a surprising amount of poetry. I smiled faintly. I plucked a slim hardcover from the third shelf, but as I pulled it free, something shifted. A thick manila folder, wedged sideways behind the books, tipped forward and hit the floor. Papers spilled in a loose fan across

I was certain I would find mine before him, though, because it looked like I was on the right track to finding it. There was a problem with this particular library, though. This library didn't have its books arranged in the proper order. The books were arranged haphazardly, with no care for order or easy location. Most libraries either had their books arranged in alphabetical order or according to author's names or according to the genres but this particular one didn't have any of that. Everything was joined together with everything and it made finding a book so difficult. I wonder why the Alpha had it like that, though.

The entire hall smells of old books and bleach. Row after row of neatly lined books with their spines facing outward, colour-coded with dots, fiction section arranged in alphabetical order. She scanned slowly until her eyes met Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's "Half of a yellow sun". She took it out, and then went behind in search of a place to sit and devour the book.

I packed my hair up in a high pony tail, put on little makeup and wore my favourite power heels. I didn't bother with breakfast just coffee, I'm usually not a breakfast kind of person. Just black dark coffee and I'm good to go, the drive to the Alvarado manor was short. I arrived just in time a little after 7, I had been to the manor like a million times the staff know me so I went right in. I packed my car and walked inside before asking Andrew the butler where to find Lucas, the place is huge and I don't know which wing Lucas is staying.

Sleep would be hard tonight. The next morning Mia slipped out early. She texted Chelsea to meet for lunch. By the time she got to the small café near the park, Chelsea was already waiting at an outdoor table, blonde hair catching the light. They ordered sandwiches and settled in. Mia picked at her food for a minute before speaking. “So… the roommate thing happened.” Chelsea leaned in. “Yeah? Tell me everything. Is she nice? Did she move in already?” Mia took a breath. “It’s Callum.”

I had just finished mopping the kitchen floor, when my cell phone rang. Trying to swipe the answer button with wet hands, I then kept it on speaker and spoke," hello?" Honestly at first I didn't know whose number it was. Cause I didn't had anyone's number. Our marriage was arranged indeed, and it was also all of a sudden marriage. Like one day Tariq's parents came to see me and the next day it was my nikkah. I did knew Tariq as Akka's friend from college but other than that I didn't know anything.

“I’m coming. Keep your pants on…” She heard the door open, and then a muffled thud, before it closed again. There was a long pause. “Who was it?” She called out. There was no reply. “Tyler?” She heard footsteps down the hall. “Is everything okay, Tyler? Who was at the door…?” She turned and froze. Chris Arren stood, blocking her into the u formation of the kitchen. He held an odd looking gun in his hand. “Hello Aislen.” The End of Book One. Stay tuned for Book Two, The Pack’s Triquetra!

Camella simply flipped through the pages of the novel without actually reading it. "Argh! Why am I nervous?" Camella said frustrated. Again and again, her mind fell on the message. Why was he upset to see the sender's name? A woman? Who exactly is she? Trencher The door to the room opened, Camella saw Alland standing there with a confused look. "Why are you so messed up?" Alland asked approaching Camella. Because the girl was very messy, and the surrounding bed was a little messy, the blankets were not arranged, the pillows were scattered, and her novel was already on the bed.

added the Yakuza called Hito, a man who struggled with languages and couldn't process English very well. "It's not necessary; there's just a little bit left..." I arranged the books to place them on the final shelves while Kendra closed the system. Since these new copies had already been cataloged, I just walked to the end to put them on the large shelf, picking up the books one by one with patience. When I had my arm extended to place a book, I felt a body approach me from behind, taking the book from me to put it where he wanted. "That's better there," the man said, and I turned to look at him.