The Book Place Novels & Stories

asked Nancy, in a very fake sad voice. At half-past seven, Mrs Smith and Emma went for the grand opening of their neighbour's bookstore. Emma wore a causal t-shirt on her jeans along with her thick jacket and shoes. It was huge compared to the other bookstores in Roseville. This bookstore was a rectangular building with huge glass windows on either side of the wooden door. Their neighbour, Mr Walter, a tall but very lean man, welcomed them inside and guided them. The ground floor was devoted to the children's section and fiction. A small wooden table and a chair were also kept close to the door. Mr Walter told them that it was reserved for a special guest. The first floor was devoted to non

Lucianne’s eyes snapped back to Xandar’s elated lilac ones as she exclaimed in a whisper, “This is La Librairie, isn’t it? The largest bookstore in the Kingdom!” Xandar’s eyes were also shining at the sight of Lucianne’s excitement, “It is. You’ve clearly heard of it.” Her eyes continued to scan the place while she explained, “I’ve read about it and seen pictures of it in the news. But the sight is still breathtaking.” She looked at the ceiling which was said to contain engravings of reputable authors of the past. She then looked at the pillars which had the most famous quotes of each century. She then uttered, “The twenty-eight-floor building which holds every book known to Lycans, werewolv

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I growled under my breath, veering back to look at the strip center. Then I saw it. Betty's Books…24-hr bookstore. A honk sounded from behind me. The light was green. I pulled into the turn lane, whipping a u-turn and pulling into the parking space. I got out, stepping into the empty storefront. It wasn't unusual. Who would go to a bookstore at 9 PM on a weekday? Me. That's who. The shopkeeper popped up behind a stack of books on the front desk. "Hello! Welcome in!"

It took almost a minute until everything sank into the windlet’s head. “Man. Empty stomach makes me stupid,” Darrion commented. “Let’s go to the park!” the windlet grinned, trying to change the subject. Jai chuckled. He really is a bright sun. “Sure. Where’s the turn, though?” “Oh it’s there,” Darrion pointed at the turn. “Oh, there’s also a bookstore there at the corner. We should buy some newspaper and read the news.” Jai and Darrion stopped by the book store at the corner of the road. It was an average sized book store with a pyramid and rows of books displayed on the window. They entered the place and saw there were already several customers inside.

"Bookstore." "That means downstairs." "Not in a mall, but a bookstore on Cempaka Street. Instantly Alsava remembered the cliche reasons number four earlier: I just moved to this city, still foreign! "I know where the bookstore is from the internet." "Okay. After finished eating." Dadang continues to drink his coffee. Meanwhile, Alsava, while rummaging, was busy playing with her smartphone and again got an eye-catch from Dadang. "What?" spat out Alsava, mouth full of cake cream.

Finally. She need not pretend any longer. In William’s arms was where she wanted to be. ~The End~ Look for these books in this series: Let's Fall in Love Again (book 2) Let's Create a Wonderland (book 3) Let's be Together (book 4)

Years of pretending I wasn't awkward had taught me well, one thing I learned the minute I stepped into New Jersey was that a perfect smile to hide whatever broken pieces was buried inside. Number one rule of Zian. Never let the room read you first. Inside, however... I was as usual, already planning my escape. The bookstore occupied the corner of a busy street in downtown Vegas. Floor-to-ceiling window wrapped around the front of the building, allowing sunlight to spill across rows of shelves and displays. Strings of warm lights hung from the ceiling, casting a cozy glow over the polished wooden floors. Banners featuring my books decorated the walls while stacks of signed editions sat neatly

The bookstore was a shrine of silent expectation. It was one of those mythic, independent bookshops in the West Village, with groaning wooden floors and shelves that swept toward a pressed-tin ceiling, heavy with the smell of old paper, new ink, and a hundred years' worth of precious stories. But this evening the usual academic hush was heavy with a sort of reverence unlike any other.

Calla’s Daughter – POV The bookstore smelled like paper and rain. Not a chain store. Not polished shelves or corporate signs. Just an old converted train depot with crooked floorboards and a chalkboard outside that read: “Tonight: The Girl in the Photograph – A Reading.” I almost didn’t show up. Even though I was the girl. Even though I’d written the book. Even though River had flown in, Melinda was already seated in the front row, and Carrie had helped organize the entire thing with a thousand checklists and two backup microphones.