The Notebook Novels & Stories

I know that Shiloh is starting to take action as he was so in range when the last time they attacked the Cravens manor. Well, I know that Shiloh wouldn't care about the attack if they didn't muddle his garden of roses. I picked up the notebook that is placed above the shelves. It looks like this one has been serving its purpose for a long time. I opened it and I can't understand the words that are written in this notebook. There are sketches and explanations, a scientific explanation to be precise and I know that this one is all about the experimentation that they are doing right now. It looks like they are planning this for a long time. One word to describe t

And sitting on the far desk, neatly tucked between two architectural models, is something that definitely doesn’t belong. A small, familiar yellow notebook. My chest tightens. I know this notebook. Because it’s mine. Or at least, it was. I walk toward it slowly, as if approaching too fast will make it disappear. I reach out and carefully pick it up, my fingers brushing the worn edges. I flip it open. My handwriting stares back at me. It’s from three years ago, filled with my old notes—ideas, sketches, random bits of code I had scribbled down. I had thought I lost it when we split up.

She was holding a thick notebook with a cowhide cover in her left hand, and a paint brush in the other -- the broken magic weapon that Winnie gave her, the one with exactly one protection spell left. Well, should I say, supposedly, broken magic weapon. Knock, knock knock. Someone was at the door. Kitty jumped up from the bed and went to the door with the brush in her hand, leaving the notebook behind. The notebook had an ancient look. The edge of some of its pages were even in curl. But while it looked dusty, it was not fragile. It was quite the contrary: it was as if it was JUST right, by itself. No surrounding was going to eff

Chapter 5 Rescue She picked up the notebook, noticing that it was the same as the notebook with the name inside the car. But this one has nothing in it. Irene also picked up the USB and checked it out as well. She unconsciously let go of the two items that she was holding in from shock when she heard a loud rattle in the car and also heard the guy sobbing continuously.

“It’s your second day looking. You almost toured the campus, you even went to the college campus, you still can’t find what you’re looking for?” That d*mn notebook. It was my second day looking around campus for the notebook that I had accidentally lost. I just got curious about what was written in that notebook. I didn’t expect that I didn’t realize I was going to release it while running. And one more thing, why does that four-eyed strawberry still have such a notebook like that?

I know you still do…" Edward shoved her out the door along with all her junk. Just as he was about to turn away, something caught his eye. A pale blue notebook was lying among the scattered bottles and broken jars. He bent down to pick it up, but Sharon saw it too and lunged for it. The notebook, already aged and fragile, tore in half as they pulled at it. "This belonged to Macie. Why is it with you?" He shot her a glare. The notebook was a diary. He still remembered what he'd said back then.

"The fourth notebook is not a continuation of the third. It is a different kind of record. The third notebook documents what was done to people. The fourth notebook documents how people describe what was done to them. Those are not the same document. One is evidence. The other is testimony. Both matter. Only one belongs entirely to the person who gives it." She buys the fourth notebook on a Thursday at the stationery supply on Silver Hollow's commercial street, which is an ordinary shop that sells pens and paper and notebooks to a city that does not officially exist and that consequently produces more handwritten documentation than most cities of comparable size, because the supernatural com

I give him a slow, deliberate smile and a sharp wink. I’ve got this, husband. Konstantin stares at me for a beat, his hands resting flat on the table. A dark amusement flickers in his eyes, though his face remains stone. He leans in just an inch, his voice washing over my ear. “What is the notebook for, zhenshchina?” “Just some notes, Mr. Morozov,” I murmur, keeping my eyes fixed forward as the projector screen flickers to life. “I like to keep track of the details.”

“Every trace.” 😱 “The world forgot she ever existed.” ⸻ 🌙 The Notebook Without warning— One notebook fell from a shelf. 📖 Landing at Ilyaan’s feet. Its cover contained only one word. ✨ LYRA ✨ 😱 Aariz looked horrified. “That notebook shouldn’t exist.” 💀 Slowly… Ilyaan opened it. The pages were blank. Completely blank. 🌙 Then words started appearing by themselves. As if someone invisible was writing.

Just honestly, which I was finding was a different thing entirely from what I used to think honesty between us felt like. He reached into his jacket pocket and put something on the table between us. A small notebook. Slim, good paper, the kind you could feel the quality of just by looking. The cover was a deep blue. I looked at it. "It's not a gesture," he said. "It's just a notebook. You can throw it away if you want." I picked it up. It was exactly the right size. The kind that fits in the pocket of a jacket or a large bag without you having to think about it.