The Men Who Stare At Goats Book Novels & Stories

"It’s a goat, you coward. If you can't handle a beast, that's your failing." The man with the scarred lip looked at me, then back at the goat. "It isn't a beast. We didn't find it. It found us in the mountains of Anatolia. We’ve been trying to drown it, burn it, bury it... but it keeps coming back. We keep it in the circus because the crowds keep it distracted. Without the noise, without the eyes of a thousand people... it starts to look at one person. And that's when the dying starts." Grandpa pointed the shotgun at the men. "Off my land. Now."

This is some serious shit, I scolded myself, while Frost kept keen eyes on the rogues. "Wo wo, what do we have here?" One of the men, a tall one with a long goatee, and an appearance like he hasn't washed for days,---judging from how bad he reeked hasn't ---said through a sly smirk, the look in his eyes making me shudder in revulsion. He was staring at me wolf like he wanted to gulp her up. Ew! dude, she is an animal, I made a face while Frost growled again, neither appreciating the dude taking liberties with his stare.

Chapter 24 I stared at the men before, what deal could they be here to offer me? Judging a book by its cover was indeed a clear representation to the way I felt at the moment. Even the hobo on the street looks far more responsible than these ones. I could smell the stench of poverty and lower class on them. It seemed like they were messing around with me. I could tell it from their reactions and words. They could barely compose themselves, no value, and no ethics. I raised my eyelids and stared right at their faces, it better be something good. “What deal?” I inquired.

James sat in his cane chair with his eyes closed and feet resting on the table as he listened to the sound of two goats in his backyard, bleating. The goats were gifts from Osinala which arrived very early in the morning before he could say the Lord's Prayer and brush his teeth. He looked forward to another meeting in the village square when he had regained his confidence and was strong enough to defend his cause. He stood up now and walked to the small pile of books he had arranged last night in search of an exemplary text that would fascinate his mind and set him in the right mood. Some weeks ago, he had considered writing a book about his trip to Africa. Unlike all the books he had read,

but it's fine they changed their minds faster than I thought. "So this is the section." My eyes widened when I saw a book. “What kind of book is this?” I almost let out a curse when I saw the cover of one book in that section. On the cover there was two men almost hugging each other only wearing their underwears. “Secret to longer homosexual relationships, Male edition,” I read the title out loud. I can't believe with my two eyes that there was a section like this in a bookstore. Am I that innocent to know about what is this?

Chapter 2: Exposed My fingers hovered at the zipper like they had forgotten how to work. Dante’s command still echoed in my ears. Take it off. Three men stood around me, tall and unyielding, their eyes burning with something I had never seen directed at me before. Not shame. Not pity. Pure, hungry need mixed with a strange kind of reverence.

The gray-coated man quietly whispered, "It remembers you." Adrian stopped. "I've never seen this book." The stranger looked into his eyes. "No." "But it has seen you." A low hum filled the island. The first page slowly turned by itself. The second page... was completely blank. Not a single word. Not a single mark. Only a tiny sentence appeared at the bottom. Place your hand here. The First Reader immediately raised his voice. "Don't." "If the book accepts you..." "...there will be no turning back."

He said confidently and the others started nodding in approval. I leaned back on my seat, sipping the last of my water, watching them with a detached, weary sort of pity. They looked like cornered rats, snapping at the air now that the predator had left the room. These were the men who ruled territories, yet they were trembling in the wake of a man who hadn't even raised his voice.

Adam glanced back down at the page, a faint smirk returning. “Man handled it though,” he murmured. “Didn’t panic, didn’t fumble it… just stayed in it.” He closed the book halfway again, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “Still… that’s not for everybody,” he added. “Takes a certain kind of mindset to even step into something like that.” He looked at the cover for a second, then back at the pages. “This book really doesn’t miss,” he said under his breath. Then, without hesitation—

There is no mate bond, but having him close makes me feel more secure. “I can’t wait for you to see this.” He rubs his thumb on the top of my hand as he leads me to a store. It’s rare Bronx gets so excited about surprising me. We approach a bookstore with a dusty, old window display. In gold paint, there is a picture of a pan flute and a goat. The images are peeling and sundried as if they’ve been there forever. Over the pictures are the words ‘The Barded Goat Used & Collectible Books’.