Vanishing Half Book Novels & Stories

A way for you to fight back. The formula is split, my love. I gave them half. A useless half, a key to a door with no lock. The other half is not in this box. It is in the book. Not on the pages, but in the structure itself. In the story. A literary cryptography that only you would understand. You were always the clever one.

It was nice to have someone to talk about his romantic life with –semi pseudo paraplegic romance –even though it wasn't for free. It felt regular and archaic and old and a total cliché when he took his first step towards the man. He expected to feel something new, but it was still the same. From the ground floor elevator to the third floor where Hamilton's office was; the purple orchid that hung to right side of the door; the room thirty seven copper plated office number with Dr H. E. Greenfield boldly inscribed beneath, everything up unto this moment felt too predictable and strangely insipid.

Sylvain interjected with a shrug, "it's all good. At the time, Tania didn't fully trust me. I couldn't expect you to." Zora offered Sylvain an appreciative smile, "I then told you that the second half was sent somewhere and I wasn't sure where, that magic would protect it until it needed to be found. That was an untruth. The second half of the book had chosen me as its keeper. I could not hand the book over to you until the time was right. Have you gone through the first half?"

Without my knowledge, the book slipped out of my hand and I looked down at the book like I'm facing the real ghost and the sentence read, "...eyes, pale skin human." I desperately need to find the missing 30 pages. Damn!! Those 30 pages could have everything about the Heil!!!! *

"Veronica Leech once came to my office with a very old book that had several torn pages. While she discussed with me about the contract, I noticed the book and asked her about it because it looked very old and ratty. She simply shrugged me off and said it was a family cooking recipe book that her grandmother had passed on to her. You see, I wasn't convinced but I let it slide anyway" Liam said, running his fingers through his hair. "What was the name of the book?" I asked. "The twin moons" ********

Amber said before she could complete what she was saying. “That’s right,” Hazel didn’t deny it and she went ahead to say, “Aiden came to see me with this book. It is the book of prophecy.” Amber looked down on the book and leaned forward before opening the pages but all she saw was blankness. Raising her eyes up to look at Hazel, she asked with a frown, “Why doesn’t it have any words? Or is it that I can’t read it because I am mortal?” “Anyone can read it,” Hazel replied, “but the words disappeared immediately after the last war.”

That's in the past. But she couldn't help picking a book that dealt with finance. She touched the thick cover and breathed in its fragrance. She longed to to read the book, at least to kill time. She helped herself to one of the chairs and placed the thick book on the table. Soon she got so immersed in the book that she didn't even notice that Jack had been standing beside her for 3 minutes. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and cleared his throat. There was no reaction from Vanessa as she was in deep thoughts. 'This book is really good. It's a pity... a pity that I...' she was dragged back to reality when Jack knocked on the table twice.

Dust motes floated like spectres in the dying sun. She slid into the seat across from me, dropping her satchel on the table with a dull thump. I watched from the corner of my eye as she pulled out a sleek black envelope, identical to mine. Her nails were painted silver today, short and neat, as if she’d filed them freshly for this conversation. “It’s not that deep, Zara,” she said, leaning back and crossing her arms casually. “The Halves isn’t some cult like Talia says. It’s just fun.”

Peaceful. Vespera Hale walked along the mahogany shelves, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books. Philosophy. Strategy. History. She stopped. On a shelf at eye level, nestled between The Art of War and a first edition of The Count of Monte Cristo, was a book she didn't recognize. It had no dust jacket. The binding was matte black, textured like volcanic rock. The lettering on the spine was silver, sharp and angular. SAVAGE REBORN.

she says before the glow vanishes. Dom grabs his sister as her body falls forward, and I stare at them both with my mouth hanging open.