V C Andrews Books Novels & Stories

The bookshelf was just as tall as Andrew so he could easily access the books there. The bookshelf had all sorts of books, ranging from fictional novels to nonfictional novels, to educational novels and textbooks. Her eyes caught titles like; The Redwall series by Brian Jacques, Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros and a lot more. Even the Encyclopedia was in his bookshelf. And there was also some novels on the basis of business and finance. The book the lad was currently reading was The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

Her urge to comfort to me immediately makes me feel better, "The good stuff." "Andrew is super smart," I start, unable to stop my sad smile as I think about him, "He knows everything about everything, he loves to read things just to learn, but his favorite hobby is reading romance books, human nonsense. When we ran away from Reynard we couldn't take luggage with us, but Andrew brought his favorite book and all the time he made his wolf carry it on his muzzle. He had it all the time... he only lost it when we were arrested."

Andy was surprised to hear those words from her, at first he wanted to keep this a secret but was discovered by Celica, so Andy had to tell her everything: "I had a terrible nightmare, I saw a demon thirty times bigger than myself and he killed me in my dream." Celica showed a thoughtful expression and started taking out a book from her blue backpack, the book seemed quite old and the cover contained eight different colored stones red, yellow, blue, green, jade green, indigo, brown, white and black. But the only two gems that light up are blue and black, but that black glow more intensely when near Andy. Celica made a serious face and began to explain everything, she said:

Montero sneered, showing himself out. With long strides, Andrew crossed the room to the window behind his desk. Unlocking it, he pushed up the polished sash to its fullest open position, hoping to draw the reek of cigarette smoke out. Turning, he stared at the reconciliation papers he’d been reviewing on his desk, and, tipping his head, rubbed his eyes with one hand.