Waste Books Novels & Stories

Each of the books looked like they are all older than her judging by the smell and the worn pages inside, one page even literally crumbled to ashes in her hands, much to her horror, when she browsed through rather impatiently (she immediately stuffed it in the back of the shelf, half-praying to Hades that Athena will not notice the little blunder) but despite the books’ obvious age, they were all still well-preserved; free from dust and seemingly handled with care and love that only a lover of books could provide. However, whatever admiration Proserpina had for Athena’s personal book collection immediately went up in flames when she discovered that none of the books in Athena’s office even h

My hands skimmed the books stacked in the book shelves, and time ticked by painfully slow as I took Alpha Nolan's younger brother's advice and stayed inside the room. It had been over two hours since I slept and woke up on the white and gold bed, so I decided to take a look at all the books that were in the book shelves. The writing on the spines were mostly fading away, gathering dust as they had no use for the people who lived here. I admired some of the old classics and new books as my eyes wandered over every title. I had gathered a stack of books in my hand, picking the ones I wanted to read and taking them out. So far I had five books which were classics that I knew would peak my inter

Through its pages, we may find insights that could fundamentally alter our understanding of who we were. I stood with the book nestled comfortably in my hands in the quiet recesses of the royal library. It felt weighty, both in terms of its actual weight and the amount of information it held. The book was a manual for our survival and our secrets, not only about werewolves. But what puzzled me was how this book, presumably discarded and abandoned, had found its way into the royal library.

It was a space designed purely for quiet study, and reverence. “These two shelves here are all about the mate bond,” Thefros said, gesturing toward a pair of bookcases halfway down the room. “Lore, case studies, theory. Everything we’ve managed to preserve.” I nodded, pulling down five books at random and settling at the table under the nearest lamp. Thefros took a seat opposite, already flipping through his own selection with practiced ease. The pages felt heavy in my hands, textured like something handmade. These books hadn’t touched a printer, some were written in fading ink, others illuminated with strange symbols or brutal sketches. One book was nothing but badly rhymed poetry pretendin

“ACCESS— ACCESS— ACCESS—” Books flew off its frame in all directions, bindings popping, pages ripping free. Its chains went slack, then snapped taut, then sagged again, whipping with no rhythm or aim. The graveyard responded. Headstones that had been half‑sunk lurched upward, then cracked. Coffin‑books slammed shut of their own accord or burst open, their contents spiraling into the air in confused flurries. The librarian tried to take a step. Its leg—three encyclopedias and a stack of law codes—collapsed, volumes spilling out like broken bricks.

The room was spotless, as if no one had ever lived there. Only the desk in front of him held a single box. Hugo opened it. Inside were all the gifts he had ever given Katherine. On top of the box, there was a single sticky note. "Three's a crowd. I'm stepping out. I give my best regards to Mr. Laurent and Ms. Mendes—may you have a long and happy marriage, and many children."

The shelves were made of petrified wood, and the books were bound in skins I didn't want to identify. "Here," I whispered, pulling out a heavy, circular disc of metal that was etched with complex, rotating rings. It wasn't a book it was a star-map. I spent hours with Julian, him translating the ancient, jagged script while I manipulated the rings of the disc. We started piecing together a history that was so far removed from the "Crimson Pact" it felt like reading about a different universe. The Wastes hadn't been a kingdom. It had been a quarantine.

“Are you sure that you want to throw all of this away?” Izzy asked as she helped me clear my mini library in my room where I had more than three hundred books. I looked at the book, and I felt a tingle of hurt in my heart with every book that we took down and put in the huge box. I looked at the sets of books that cost me thousands of dollars, and hundreds of hours just to read all of them.

These were all the items that they could not take with them when they left. Charlie glanced around and found that although there were many books in the study, they were generally categorized into three groups. The first category was finance and management which were mostly insights written by world-renowned economists and finance professionals. The second category was history and biographies, and the third category was the Book of Changes and the Eight Diagrams.

I paid for it at the counter and the cashier wrapped it in a recycled paper bag with the brand of their store. "Hehehe, I have a lot to read." Misha came to me smiling and carrying the new sets of W*****d-published books that I didn't hesitate to look at whatever they were. For sure, gangsters are the theme again. "You know, if there is an award for the most W*****d books, you will probably win, your library is all W*****d," I promise here. This is also abnormal, did he put his encyclopedias in the warehouse and then replace them with useless books?