The Book Guy Novels & Stories

Chapter 16 - blacklisted "Ah! A classic. The green book written by Henry Welsh? Ah, I remember that guy, I still feel sad about what happened to him." The old janitor sighed as if he was at a loss. He was talking about the book as if it was a golden classic. "Wait, you know the book?" I was shocked momentarily, I searched for the title for hours without finding anything. Who would've thought that I could just ask an old man?

There wasn’t much furniture around, which made the room look even bigger. I walked toward the recliner near the window and stared at the magazines lying on the stool. They were all business magazines, different publishers, but with the same man on the cover. An old man with a tall and broad frame, which sort of reminded me of— “You?” Adonis’s voice made me jerk, and I whirled around to face him.

I was fiddling in my purse for my card. “They’re already paid for,” the bookkeeper said casually. I looked up at her and stopped the movement in my purse. “What?” I asked. “They’re already paid for,” she repeated. I was confused. Did he already know what I was going to get? “This bookstore belongs to Mr. Vasillios over there.” I glanced at Adrian. “Oh.” Did he buy the store because of me?

I was elated, I guess Lizzy's dream was coming true, just in a different form and place. The owner, Mr. Henry Potter (funny as that sounds) was a jolly old man who had the bookshop overflowing and had no help around the place because people thought the bookshop creeped them out. For some reason it looked just fine to me, I loved the smell of the old books and I think it was perfect for a bookshop, no need to look all pristine and spacious like a library on campus, I liked it cramped with books and looking like something straight out of the Hobbit. I loved it.

I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, turning back for my book on the kitchen counter; reading books will forever be my first love. At The Tasty Place Diner I found what might be my new inspiration. He was tall, almost roughed, not too soft. I don’t know what to make of what happened. “Mr. Blackwood,” he had signed my book; who was he? He was light skinned. I usually like men a shade closer to purple. His chest was broad, too broad. Usually my men are slimmer. He had lazy eyes that looked intense just when he needed them to be. Bedroom McDreamy eyes... And he smiled like a humming bird, glorious and slick.

He has a business that specializes in antique books, and he sells his products to other businesses that specialize in antique books as well as his own. He imports books from a range of sources, and he is one of the non-resellers who has benefited from his services. "Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience." I added as I began to walk away from the room. We should be grateful that Mr. Villanueva is polite rather than resentful of our success. Permit them to get in, and they will have the opportunity to return later. "Please accept my heartfelt apologies for any inconvenience." As long as you remember to check in on yourself the next time, everything is perfect with you, Yhra. I gave

His hair was short with a little curl in it. "You got my book yet?" He asked very eagerly. His book order was late for the third time. But finally, it arrived. "Actually yes it is. It came in this morning. Let me go grab it." I walked to the storage room that I had them build in while I was renovating the place. Once I grabbed his book called The Host. I walked back in to see him aiming a gun at me. The book dropped out of my hands and I slowly put my hands up in the air.

I blushed, shook my head, and cleared my throat. “I mean, I’ve been planning to give you since you solved the assignment. The book is very important, it costs the owner’s life.” “What?” he asked in surprise. He’s too young to know the story of the book. The book isn’t popular because it’s the author’s first book. He was a psychologist and also labelled a psychopath. What he wrote in the book was facts about human nature, how to read people and how to make them respect you at all costs as their boss.

He had one eye and a slash mark running over the part of his face where an eye was supposed to be. A smile that looked entirely too pleased to see me. Wonderful. Exactly the sort of person I expected to find running this place. "What can I get for you, miss?" he asked cheerfully. His voice sounded surprisingly normal. I walked toward the counter. "I need a book." The old man chuckled. "You're in luck." He spread both arms dramatically. "I happen to have several." I stared at him. He stared back. Then his grin widened. "Which particular book are you looking for?"

Small and careful, the kind you protect with both hands. I found a bookshop by accident, looking for somewhere warm to sit. It sat between a dry cleaner and a chip shop, easy to walk past if you were not looking. The owner was an old man named Douglas. He wore the same burgundy jumper every day and never asked me what I wanted. He just let me sit. There was a worn velvet armchair in the back with a small heater pointed at it, and I sat there for hours some days, reading whatever he handed me. Nobody was watching me to see if I was doing it right. Nobody needed anything from me at all.