The Book House Long Branch Novels & Stories

m. Jax, Oliver, and I went back to the packhouse while Matt stayed in his office. The Library is on the left side and extends from the first floor up to the second. Light wood bookshelves were strategically placed close to the walls to create space for sitting areas. The light grey carpet muffled the footsteps, providing the readers with a quiet environment.

The library was a third illustrious and recognizable library in Wicklow for encompassing historical quixotic and idealistic fictions. They pushed the heavy doors open and entered into the reception area inhaling the smell of old books. "Hello, Ms Kate!" Louisa and Sheila greeted a middle-aged woman, sitting behind her desk reading a book. Ms Kate Long was a frumpy woman, and she was fanatical about books, and had always said; 'There's no-one like her who adored books like a possessive demon.' She was divorced without having children, and she thought of books as her family.

Alex became red in the face and scratched his nape as he trailed behind me, when the book assistant silenced him with a ‘‘Ssshhh’’ command, because some people were reading silently at the far corner. ‘‘No need…’’ I whispered, waving my hand. ‘‘I’ve been to this place before…’’ This bookstore wasn’t that big and not crowded. There’s actually another one down the street which was so much bigger and looked like the headquarters, while this one was most likely a branch office for the bookstore. But I liked it here more. I tapped my finger on my chin, looking up at the titles of the biography books that were arranged alphabetically on the upper shelf.

Kennedy POV. The weather was bad, but I needed to get that new book, it's Robert birthday gift, who'd knew a grown up man would kill for the newest werewolf love book. I got into my car, drove carefully toward the local book store, they had the new book reserved for me. It was supposed to one quick drive, until I walked into the library. A girl was sitting on a bean bag, her blond hair was covering her eyes with overgrown bangs, she tried to huff them away from her face but to no use. She looked young, maybe she's just here with her parents, looking down at the book she had in her hands it was a kids story. Does she read for the local kids? Or is it just for her?

[Maria] Auntie Imani’s house was just a tiny little home behind the bookstore, accessible only through an alleyway. At first glance from the outside, it even looked smaller than the bookstore itself. Auntie Imani opened the door and invited me inside. The moment I stepped in, I was immediately greeted by a familiar feeling. In that modestly sized room, I could almost hear the footsteps of little children running around, pressing their hands against walls where the paint had begun to peel away.

The river beyond town moved steadily, deceptively calm. She wrapped her arms around herself. The storm had brought more than rain. It had brought him. Alex. The man who spoke like memory itself. The man whose eyes seemed to recognize something she had not yet remembered. By eight-thirty she was downstairs, unlocking the bookstore. The bell above the door jingled faintly as she stepped inside. Paper. Lavender. Wood polish. Safety. Or the illusion of it. She moved through the aisles, adjusting displays, straightening chairs. She paused at the fiction table and stared at a worn copy of The House on Briar Hill. The book felt heavier than paper should.

He gave me the book beforehand to get in and open the door for the shelf which I can picture clearly in my mind. The voice of Branson talking with Alex start fading away which means that they are walking away from the library. I take the opportunity and step inside the library. It's very quiet and there are no people around. We chose this time because it's the time the library opens, so no one would be around. Not yet. As per his plan, I have thirty minutes in my hand to do the job. I look around the library to search for the shelf that has one book missing in a row. A few minutes pass and I still can't find the shelf. Bloody hell! Where is it?

"I'll order someone to pick them up here." "I can do that." But he shook his head. "No. You're not going anywhere." Of course. Eliot would prohibit me from leaving the pack house. "The library is in the old pack house on the east side. Someone will deliver to you tomorrow." "Is it abandoned?" I had never heard of the old pack house before, even in my previous life. "No, but not a house anymore. We use it as a school now." I nodded in understanding. If it was a school, I knew one in the eastern. It might be what Eliot meant.

“Do you think the bookstore next to Wixon still has it?” Valencia leaned on the kitchen counter near the sink, tapping her fingers on the ceramic surface. “Yeah, trust me the last time I visited that bookstore down on 2nd street was 2 days ago. it was a recent visit so I’m sure they still have a few left in the Non-fiction section.” The voice on the phone said.

“What could you possibly have to do that’s so time consuming?” “Are you kidding?” I folded my arms. “Look at this place. I bet you wouldn’t last one hour running a facility as large as this.” Jake sighed and nodded as he looked around. The Greenbrooke Library was huge. It was two stories high with a coffee shop on the second floor, and there was even a garden out back where people could sit and read as they enjoyed the nature around them. I only had one assistant but she was hardly ever in because of her many doctor’s appointments.