Wednesday Books Novels & Stories

Thank you so much for coming along with me on this adventure. This first book has proven to be extremely difficult. I’m sure you’re wondering if Sierra’s journey will end here, or what Zaiden will discover in Queen Esme’s journal. Well, I won’t keep you waiting too long. I will reveal all this and more in the novels that follow. Order of the Ambersky Pack Series: 1. Wolves & Magic (completed) 2. A Dark Revenge (TBD)

Mary dropped the call and I finally got my chance to go back to my bed and sleep. I spent the rest of my Saturday sleeping. I woke up at three in the afternoon and found Wednesday doing some paper works at the living room. “What are those?” I asked as she was flipping through pages of paper that appeared to be some list of things they need to pay. “Bills, bills, bills and bills.” She answered seemingly flustered. “August?” “Yes?” “You don’t have any problem staying home alone right?” Wednesday asked. “Uhm, no. I think I’m all grown up to be on my own. Why?”

“We need to get you to the hospital.” “It is Wednesday,” I murmur. “I can’t have the babies on a Wednesday.” “What?” Emmett says in confusion, and I look up to see Walter shaking his head. “Wednesday’s child is full of woe,” I grunt out as another wave of pain crashes over me. Emmett’s eyes gloss over, and I know that he is sending Erebus a mind link. “What does that even mean?” He says but I know that the question is coming from Erebus.

Abigail said as she sank down onto a chair with a defeated expression. “We’ll be the victors in this, “I assured her. “I just need to do a little prep work before we go into battle.” “Understood,” she nodded. “What do I do?” “Rest,” I said. “You’ll need it.” She draped her body over the chair and swung her legs absent mindedly while she watched me pour over the pages of the grimoire. With my strength returned to me and my magic intact, I speed read the entire eight-hundred-page ancient book -with one-hundred percent retention- within a matter of minutes.

Kendra sat in the library with the book, The Hobbit, opened on her lap. When Rex had first shown the room that was lined with books to her, she’d been both intimidated and overwhelmed. She was taught to read by Olga, but the availability of reading material was limited. Therefore, her reading skills were wanting.

Chapter 27: "A Librarian's Secret," ───── ❝ R U B Y F R I D A Y ' S P O V ❞ ──── ║ Gregorian Calendar ║ 01 - 15 - 2027 ║ ║ Friday║ 3rd Post Meridiem of the Games ║ The library was quiet and still. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, illuminated by the soft glow of the lamps. The shelves were lined with rows upon rows of ancient books, their spines worn and faded with age.

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"The Wednesday for correspondence." "Yes," Don said. "The bread Wednesday is for things of the immediate and domestic. The other Wednesday is for the outward-facing." This was a distinction that had emerged organically across the years, not as a rule but as a pattern that had become reliable enough to function as one. The bread Wednesdays — the Wednesdays when Ernest made the bread — were for the inward things: the household accounts, the correspondence with people who were part of the immediate circle, the planning of the week ahead. The other Wednesdays — the bread had been made on Tuesday that week, because of a scheduling adjustment — were for the outward-facing: the publisher, the edito

With a sigh of apathy, Emmie closed the book she’d finished reading and rested it on her lap. It had been three weeks now since she’d arrived in Hampshire, and as the days lagged on, she realized just how dull the life of a lady’s companion was. She attended Lady Sarah like a dutiful companion…well, at least close to one. She helped Anna dress every morning since Nancy was busy with Miss Crampton. Emmie accompanied Anna downstairs for breakfast, but usually they were the only ones in the room eating since Mr. and Mrs. Crampton had already partaken of the meal, and Rebecca was still dressing. After breakfast, Emmie and Anna took a stroll through Mrs. Crampton’s flower garden, but after that,

The lightest moment in a story that had contained almost no light at all. I noticed the book on his nightstand the following week. Not a pregnancy book. Not a business strategy guide. Not any of the texts I'd seen him read during our time together. A different kind of book. The title was something about understanding patterns and breaking cycles. The kind of book that therapists recommend to clients who are ready to examine the machinery that produced them.