The Diary Novel Novels & Stories

Sweat gathered at my temples and Cobwebs clung to my sleeves. The air smelled of cardboard and time. I pushed aside old picture frames, college notebooks, and broken electronics. “Where is it?” I whispered to myself. Box after box, I searched. My fingers were sore and my back ached but then I found it. A navy-blue leather cover…Worn at the corners. The pages sticking out a little from the sides. My diary. I sat on the cold floor, back against the wall, and opened the first page. It was mostly silly things at first.

Cassie - After reading the first couple of sentences, I have to stop, go back and reread it carefully. I am incredibly surprised by what I am seeing written on the page. I carefully close the book, Using my finger as a bookmark so as not to lose the page Alpha wants me to read from, so that I can look at the front cover and I see it is a relatively standard, plain black-leather covered book with no image or writing on the front, but when I decide to check the spine, which is also blank, I see it is well worn, which means it has been opened and closed many times in the past. I open the book again and flip back to the first page of the book deciding to read the inscription handwritten there in

There was nothing much, except books. Textbooks, novels, exercise books and manuscript. He briefly went through some of Pearl's unfinished works and smiled. Pearl was the real talent here. He reached for another note book and the first page was boldly written on it, 'THEY MURDERED HER (True life story)'. It was a novel Pearl was writing. Without hesitation, Detective Flynn also took the old diary he found in the last wardrobe. He heard footsteps, someone was climbing the staircase. He knew it was neither the twins nor their father. So he concluded it was a neighbor and continued snooping around.

Also, the names of the characters are randomly selected and is entirely out of the blues. Welcome to Dynamic Diary of Tee. Enjoy the bumpy ride ahead!

With trembling hands, I approached it, my fingers brushing against the rough wood. With a creak, I lifted the lid, revealing a treasure trove of forgotten memories. Among the yellowed pages and faded photographs, my gaze landed on a leather-bound diary. It was weathered with time, its once vibrant cover now worn and aged. I knew instinctively that this diary held the answers we had been searching for.

Qayah, the most beautiful woman in the world. Of course, when I laid my eyes on her I was blown away, and I immediately felt something I had not felt in a very long time, rushing back at me overwhelmingly. A feeling I am well familiar with but had become lost to me for a lifetime. My feelings for Qayah were older than she could understand, and as I was blown away by her beauty just like the first time I saw her all those long years ago, I was also troubled by the question of how she could be alive. Because the Qayah I knew... She died the same night my mother died and my family left Feverton.

and I can't help myself. **** We read through his diary or whatever he called it. And learnt some shocking details. Russell was sick and the entries that he had written down were all about me and those killed. Where he made it seem as if we were dating, and part take in some very detailed activities. He went as far as making it out as if I was the one that was crazy and stalking him. "We should get rid of these." Felix said. "Wait." I took the book from him and read something that caught my eye, then laughed.

He found it hard to explain it to her or to anyone out loud, so he simply handed the book to her. "What is it?" She glanced uncertainly at the notebook in his hand. "My mother's diary." She was puzzled, but she took the notebook anyway. Somehow she understood that it was too difficult for him to tell the tale in his own words. Once she opened the first page, a neat, feminine script greeted her, and she was drawn in from the first sentence. Soon she was absorbed in the innermost thoughts of the former duchess, growing more and more curious about the little secret she'd mentioned repeatedly in the first few pages, until she encountered a passage that contained a graphic, explicit description o

"I understand, Perer. We are good friends. Aren't we?" "Yes, we are." "Good!" Henry acknowledged. "Now, tell me about this diary of yours you have been writing for almost a year now." “You want to hear all about it?” “Yeah! Tell me all about it.” "Well," I started, trying to bring my diary/book/memoir into a positive limelight, "the book I am writing is basically a diary. Inside it, are events of my life that I have recorded. Though, there are times I would like to see it as my memoir but I can't due to the nature of it. My book is not something you will see on every regular bookstore in the market. It is unique and addresses the reader in a way you have never seen before. I know you know it

Dear Diary; What a ridiculous thing to do! I have never kept a diary in my entire life. Why now? I will tell you why… I have too much to say and no one to say it to… so here it goes. My name is Zinnia, full name… that I will keep to myself. Thank you very much! I am still in bed, whilst writing in this stupid diary, I am worried about the day ahead. Dawn has not broken yet, and I wish it would never break.