What Makes A Man Book Novels & Stories

The man that just helped make last night more of a fuck up, regarded me for a moment. He seemed to be watching my every move, working out if I was telling the truth. It made sense. If he was a Dom, as well, he was good at watching for clues and was good at reading most women… from what I’ve read. Maybe I should stop reading those books for the moment. I was just a little intrigued after the movies. Some of it really was too much, but some… stop it.

Aasahan ko bang katulad din sila ng mga tauhan sa libro? Fictional characters, especially the main character, were made to be perfect. Sobrang magkaibang-magkaiba sila ng mga tunay na tao. I understand some readers have been choosing them over the real humans because their perfection is rare. But I’ll never be like them. I prefer real men. From this world that is full of uncertainty. Man from reality will not be as perfect as the man from the book, but they are real. They are priceless.

At the marriage alliance banquet, Zachary Pendleton, the only son of General Alfred Pendleton, publicly declared that he had no interest in women. “I cannot enter such an alliance. Any young lady marrying me would be ruined by our union.” The hall lapsed into silence as all eyes turned to him at once. Still, Zachary stood there with an air of indifference, as though he saw nothing improper in his words. I studied him with curiosity and found my interest unexpectedly piqued.

The kinds of books men like Jaden collected to justify their decisions after the fact, volumes that framed dominance as intelligence and conquest as foresight. There were thrillers as well, arranged neatly, the same authors repeated, danger promised and contained safely between covers. Violence without consequence. Risk without cost. There were almost no novels that held softness. No poetry. No memoirs. No stories about women who endured something unnamed and came out intact. No books about pregnancy or childbirth. Nothing that acknowledged bodies, fear, uncertainty, or dependence. The shelves reflected a worldview where control was virtue and vulnerability was waste.

“It’s Friday night. Why don’t you take a break from reading, and we can make our own story back at my place?” I rolled my eyes. Men these days had no shame. They just went up to women anywhere and asked for sex. After taking my book back, I stuffed it in my purse. “Is this how you pick up women? You go to the bookstore and try to get them to go home with you?” He let his eyes roam down my body and shrugged. “Maybe …” His smirk widened. “You know, I find girls like you—the quiet, shy bookworms—always the most fun.”

I didn't know what to type, I just stared at his last message. Mystery man: So you are also a writer on Goodnovel, share me the l**k to your book. I will like to check it out. Me: Just type in itchy fingers or either My daughter's Nanny or Yes, master in the search space. I have two books on the platform, you can check any out. Mystery man: My daughter's Nanny? Is it romance? Me: Yes, of course. A mafia romance. Mystery man: I can tell you are an hopeless romantic.

said the man. “You should. I mean, I almost worship the ground that he walks on in his books but he makes me really crave for the nest book and that makes me very angry with him. I mean, dude, I get the fact that you are trying to increase your publicity but two years is too much for one book,, don’t you think?” I asked. And the man smiled at me again. There was something about the way that he smiled that made me feel like a young girl once again.

The domain wanted only this problem resolved, right? The priority was to make a solution, but there was one barrier that could come in his way of implementation of any kind of solution to this. Was this problem created in this society a man-made scheme or some coincidental straying from a good way? He read some titles of books in the library, looking for the various genres available. There were quite a lot of fictional books, so maybe the literature aspect was booming here… other genres of books in the vast majority included war or peace-related concepts. Taking three of them out of the shelf, he started reading.

The books were numerous, ones he couldn’t even bother to count, and were of different genres, mostly history as far as he knows. “It seems your son’s mate really loves the smell of books that she couldn’t even resist it,” he said after about a few minutes of waiting for the man. He chose that point as a starter because he wanted to trigger something that would initiate a conversation that wouldn’t be one-sided. He knew his friend well, so he couldn’t take any chances. And fortunately, it had worked out because the man replied almost instantly. “Obviously, she does. I just wished she had summoned the courage to walk into this room. I would have loved to give her one of my epic collections,”

Only two seem to be nonfiction and self help books, yet when i check what content they will be self helping me with i feel surprise running through me. "The delicate art of seduction and manipulation." I fling that one to a corner of the room and pick up the other. "How to make men beg for a chance to fuck you." I fling that one even harder and it joins its partner on the floor near my wardrobe. There are four remaining. Four novels which I have two days to myself to devour. The smile that works its way up my face is radiant. I'm going to have such a good time.