Novel & Cerita Wonder The Book Author

she asked, bursting with excitement. "Anything you ask for, A*i," said Weston, sitting down beside her. A*ianna looked at all their expectant faces with a grin on her face. "Anything, dear," whispered their mom. "Well, I came across this book and I found that the storyline resembles yours and Isabella's, Weston. The author's name is Isabella H. and she's based in LA. I think this is our Isabella. What do you think?" Asked an excited Arianna.

He points towards a drunk man stumbling outside the tavern, “Because that’s him. Drunk as a skunk.” I look in the direction that he’s pointing in and see an older man with dark, brown hair and a stern appearance. His appearance would be more intimidating were he not stumbling around like a drunkard. He seems to be in his early forties, and I feel unconvinced. The dates on the book spanned at least seventy years. “Are you sure?” I look towards the passerby who’d just stopped me, but he’s already gone. I turn my attention back to the stumbling figure and hesitate. Is that really the author?

With a gentle hug, I put the book down and immediately left for work. At 5:30 I was behind the shop waiting for my employers. I began to think about what happened last night. I was contemplating how a small book could increase in size by itself. The book could talk and give instructions for humans to follow. What amazed me more was the fact that fire of blood could rest in a bowl and the book didn’t burn but when I put my hand I was burning that I could even felt the fire even in my intestines.

My eyes widen as I read the synopsis, a girl whose life is in his hands. I wonder how could that be. There's nothing much but the scenes were pretty familiar. I looked at the author. Don'tLookForMe. That was his pen name. I looked and scrolled his profile but he has none on the list just his entry. I wasn't lucky enough to have so many details about the author. So the author of this one is playing mystery huh. but why does this book looks like it was written for me? Interesting. I might find answers while reading this...

Lora's mother had fled after giving birth to her daughter. She lifted the brick in the north corner of the room as she emptied the dungeon more carefully. "What is this book?" she inquired. The book was dusty, and the gold was almost faded, almost bronze. The title of the book was Life of the Witch. The book is about wizards and their interactions with the outer world. Lora read the book, sentence by sentence. A strange planet, yet she wished to visit it. The pages depicted a pleasant and quiet way of life. She saw herself growing up, her body perfect, producing beautiful curves with no scars, bruises, or blood flow in the corners of her lips.

' Just because she's a library Prefect doesn't give her the right to bully me ' Back to Present The book was titled ' Hero ' , for a normal person it sounded Cliche and Boring but not to me. Opening the first page, I was not suprised to see the Dedication, I read it silently and I was amazed to find out that the book was written by a Young Woman of 18. ' So there are Young Writers? ' I asked myself feeling suprised. Almost all the books we read in literature class were written by old Men and Women with some of the Deceased.

There was also some other things with funny shapes ones I didn't even want to know where they went. I held the golden balls in my hand and wondered what they were for. Some of the things in here I have seen at th club and the others where just a mystery to me, I saw things I didn't even know existed. There was other things on the shelf below but I had seen enough. There was also a bookshelf with actual books in them. I took the first book I saw and read out the title, it was a book by Shayla Black called Wicked Ties. I had never even heard of the author. My phone vibrated in my pickets, I saw that it was Bradley.

It had a snake and a skull and looked kind of epic, definitely something fantasy related. Flipping the cover over, I scanned the blurb on the back. It sounded pretty good. And the author? L.F. Welsh. The F had to stand for Ford, and though I didn’t know his last name, I would’ve put money on it being Welsh. Damn. Human Ford was an author. A fantasy author. With many books published, if the paperbacks were anything to go off of. And a successful fantasy author, if I was judging his house and car and whatnot.

But how could she even know the story if the book is not completed? "Maybe because she is the writer of the story", my subconscious mind called out. And of course, the idea was utterly bizarre, but then again this is exactly why it's called subconscious. A part of the brain which can never be realistic or logical. Sighing, I kept the book back in my bag and went over to the wildlife section. After finally screening the whole shelf for a few minutes, I finally got the one I was looking for. 'Wonders of The Wolf.' A chronological documentary on the lupus species.

I go through all the books as Gunner watches me, still not sure what I’m doing. I set the last book down and look over at him. “Did you figure out what you needed to?” He asks, and I purse my lips again. “I’m not sure what I figured out, but I think I’m onto something. More then half of these books were written by Albert Windshion and all of them written by him were written in the last fifteen years.” I explain and his face scrunches together, then he turns and picks up one of the books written by him. “What do you think that means?” He asks, and I shrug. “I don’t know, but don’t you find it strange? Maybe he knows something? Maybe the reason we’re not learning anything new is because there’