The Catholic Book Club Novels & Stories

Francine says in a grumble. Who she’s referring to is Maricar Sto. Domingo, secretary of the Journalism Club, editor-in-chief of the school paper The Unicorn, and president of the Christ Cross Club (pronounced kris-kros); a youth group as Protestant as CITS school itself, though both maintain to be non-sectarian. Kate doesn’t know why but Protestantism, at least in CITS High, seems to equate to wealth. CC members address one another as “brod” and “sis” and sometimes do the same to the school president and some CITS teachers like Mr. Romero, Personal Development instructor and the discipline coordinator of the whole senior high department.

He shifts back; putting a seat between us and truly looking horrified. Bibah simply shakes her head at our childish shenanigans and takes a sip of her iced latte, metal straw clinking in the Hydro Flask. “The Awoo Book Club’s pick for this week is H.P Lovecraft.” She pats the voluminous book atop the pile and I notice it’s the library copy of H.P Lovecraft’s Omnibus 3. “I’m so excited to roast his ass.”

Catherine stepped beside her. "You don’t have to let him go, you know." "I do," Isabella said softly. "Because this isn’t goodbye. It’s a beginning." As evening neared and the bells rang once more, people began filling the cathedral square, gathering for the first council. Music and laughter floated through the air like incense. And beneath it all, the foundation of something unshakable took root—not a kingdom of gold and rules, but a family of the faithful. A rebirth

The book club ladies were in fine form this afternoon. Margaret Thompson sat primly on the floral couch in a rented out space close to the library, a half-empty teacup balanced on her knee, her Bible study notes open on the coffee table. The conversation had started with the latest Christian fiction novel — something about redemption and resisting temptation — but it had drifted, as it always did, into more personal territory. Gossip dressed up as prayer requests. “Speaking of temptation,” one of the women said, lowering her voice with dramatic concern, “have you heard what’s going around about that poor Thompson boy?”

I called again, moving toward the door but I got no answer. This guy is not only a nerd, he is also weird and somehow crazy. I wonder how I was going to cope with him when I joined his book club. I grabbed my phone off the table and unlocked it. As the screen popped on, messages flooded in. Group chats messages , especially the ones I've muted for a while now. ‘Arian Smith, Orleans College Book Club President, Accused of Misusing Club Funds.’ I blinked, trying to wake myself from the dream. I scrolled down, read it again and it was still the same.

Our counseling sessions had continued, not because there was anything wrong going on between Damien and I but because I needed answers for future issues. "We're both growing and sometimes I fear us backsliding and giving up on Christianity because of how clueless we are." I opened up to her. "The solution to this is to commit to growing. Through more time spent fellowshipping with the brethren and giving yourself to study. There are several Christian books that can guide you on your journey and the Bible is the number one book to look to. It is God's Word." She said. I nodded, "Book recommendations?" "Sure." I took out my journal and jotted down a list of books as she mentioned the names and

He lets out a frustrated sound and tips his head back, his lips moving dramatically as he silently prays for strength to deal with me. I've seen that look enough to know what it is. "Only the first night of book club is at the store. We take turns rotating every week to people's houses. They took pity on us and let us do it together." He says, showing me his sheet of paper showing what week people signed up for. I have one as well, but I just folded it and shoved it into my book not realizing what it was. "Shit, so what does that even mean?" I ask and Everett shrugs.

echoed through the room, and then, and only then, did we begin our breakfast. You see, in our little Church, everyone has a purpose, a vital role to play in the grand tapestry of our community. Head Nun isn't just our spiritual guide; she's also an incredibly skilled surgeon. Our Church even has its own medical room, and she's in charge of everything, from making sure we're stocked with every medicine imaginable to stepping in with her expert hands whenever an emergency strikes. And the best part? She opens her arms, and our doors, to anyone in need, offering treatment completely free of charge. It's truly a blessing to witness her compassion.

Another XY chromosome in attendance was a young lad that looked like he'd been forced to be here. Three men among six women, discussing an erotica book. At the risk of sounding like Sawyer, this really did look like one of those cults that adjourned with an orgy. "Shall we start?" My god mother broke the tension almost as if she could read my thoughts aloud. "I'm just going to start by thanking Zade Cutler for showing up to our book club. I didn't know a man of your...ehm..caliber was interested in books" I smiled. A smile that had the Smith women swooning and had Claire rolling her eyes with disinterest.