Women's Library Novels & Stories

My name is Angela. I’m 28, single, and hopelessly addicted to the quiet escape of books. That’s why, three times a week, I slip into this little library tucked between a coffee shop and a dry cleaner on a side street in Lower Manhattan. It’s always half-empty — dusty shelves, soft lamplight, the faint smell of old paper and polished wood. I love it. No one bothers you here. Or so I thought. That afternoon I was deep into a worn paperback when my bladder protested. I approached the circulation desk, smiling at the librarian — a severe woman in her fifties with silver hair pinned tight.

The words, though carefully chosen, carried no soul. Sophia didn’t watch it live. She didn’t need to. She had heard Victoria’s real voice once before—the voice that told someone to “use the child” and “break her.” She didn’t need a manufactured confession. Instead, she spent the afternoon nestled between tall wooden shelves in the new women’s resource library her foundation had just opened. The room smelled of fresh paper and polished oak. Afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows, and around her sat young women—reading, discussing, rebuilding their own stories in quiet confidence.

Windsor appeared at seven, as she did every morning. "Will you be needing anything else, ma'am?" "No. Thank you, Mrs. Windsor." Elara finished her coffee and decided that today, she would read a book. Not a journal, not a warning from a dead woman. A real book. Something trashy and romantic and completely detached from her own life. “I deserve one day of peace at least.” --- The library was smaller than the one she'd met Alexander in. That one had been all dark wood and fireplaces and conversations about cover stories. This one was softer. The windows faced the gardens, and the morning light was golden and warm and poured across the reading chairs like honey.

We had just finished breakfast and were on our way to the queen’s morning room when I cleared my throat and asked if I may go to the library for a book. She instantly stopped walking and looked at me with a deep frown. “You know, in my day girls didn’t read. I remember my mother telling my sister that it just confused a woman’s thoughts if she spent all her time reading.” She seemed to think about it for a moment. “But I disagree. I believe it’s a good thing. You may go. Just don’t stay away all day. You will find us in the morning room.” I quickly curtsied before she turned around and as she and Ella made their way down the passage, I almost ran to the library.

It kept her company, although the occasional ads on the app were annoying. It happened purely by chance that an ad caught her interest while reading. Despite not having any romantic encounters in her life, Mary was a secret fan of steamy romance novels. It might be due to the genre she was reading, but Mary learned about a strange No Nut November Challenge sponsored by a company called Wanda's Love Accessories Incorporation. From the name, it was very obvious what they specialised in. Today, Mary was in a hurry to end her shift. It was still five minutes too early, but the librarian didn’t care. Nobody came to the library during closing hours. That couple was the last visitor for this week.

I doubt I'll be able to get there on my own" I whisper and the girl nods smiling. I didn't know if the women who would serve me, would always be on her side. So, I had to gain their trust, maybe they have a better plan to escape from here and that my husband does not find me. As soon as we arrive at the library, I am surprised by how big it is. It corresponds to the entire floor. The girl shows me each section as if she were the librarian and we both take the area of romance books, to get out of the cruel reality. Hours pass and it is the smell of wood and citrus that makes me look away from my incredible book and find a man with a murderous look walking towards me. "I knew I couldn't end my

I pay half of my tuition every month and every time the registrar asks me not to pay it anymore since I’m the CEO’s girlfriend, I always ask them not to tell Lucifer about it because he will surely get mad at me for doing it. “I will borrow all these books.” The woman said, wearing a thick spec.. “Okay, just write your name here and let me borrow your library card for a while.” This library is quite bigger than the Chasung High library, it has taller shelves and larger space making it somewhat hard for me to sort all of the books. I don’t want Lucifer to know that I’m working as a library here because I’m sure that if he ever knew about this, he would probably make me stop. I don’t want to b

When women are oppressed, it's tradition. ― Letty Cottin Pogrebi “Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.” ― Margaret Atwood “Life affords you infinite possibilities to pay more attention to what is actually happening. Not just around you but what is Inside you.” ―Jeff Warren

Something turned the corner and nearly ran into us. If we hadn’t flattened ourselves against the shelf, we’d have been caught. When I think of Librarian’s, I couldn’t help but picture my mom. Rounded glasses and flared skirts, nametags and rolling carts full of returned books. She worked at the public library for years now. She’d adore the wide array of books here, though I don’t think she’d like the constant threat of danger.

It was the Great Library of the Sunder,the repository of everything the McKinnley line had ever taken or lost. A small woman, hunched and draped in tattered lace, beckoned to her from between two towering shelves. Anna followed, her bare feet silent on the cold floor. As she moved through the impossible hall, she saw other figures,spectral residents of the Library. Some bowed deeply as the "Concentration" passed; others hissed and vanished into mist, terrified of the raw power radiating from her nude, glowing form.