You've Got Mail Book Novels & Stories

Thanks for coming this far, dropping a new update soon but till then let me in your thoughts about the book and also check out smitten(a mafia romance) Thank you very much🥰

“Well?” Mr. Waddlebug asked, impatiently tapping his foot as he stared at the mail shoot. Corey stood beside him, quill pen still in hand, his expression much more subdued. “What is taking so long? Shouldn’t we have heard back from her by now?” “She’ll respond soon enough,” Corey assured him, finally sticking the pen back in the magic ink he had used to write the correspondence to Ms. Fizzlestitch. The mailroom was really something else. This is where all of the letters to Santa--whether through regular post-dispatch or the preferred, up the chimney, method came to be read, considered, and recommended for fulfillment or denial. It is also where Corey came to write his own letters whenever he

Gabby's eyes darted around. "What?" "Would.You.Like.Another.Book.Eleanor?" Eleanor watched Gabby look around and looked around herself. Were they being watched? "Wh... I... Uhm... Sure." Gabby left and came back a while later with a big book titled, 'THE LEGENDS OF BIGFOOT"

All beautiful, each one elegant, yet I couldn't seem to find one that my heart took a liking to. "I don't know" My voice fell. "I'm still lost on— My words were cut off by the sudden entrance of a man. Suited up well, he pushed in a trolley of roses, holding up a placard that spelt my name. "I have a delivery for Miss Sangretti" He took a stop before me, brushing the flowers with some feathers, and as if one cue, that smile took his lips, while his gaze met my confused ones. "I'm Adam" He introduced.

Matteo asked. “Complain about gas stoves and write passive-aggressive Yelp reviews? Yes.” He leaned on the counter, hair tied back. “Do you think we’ll forget?” “What?” “The blood,the names all the hunger to finish everything that started with fire.” I stirred the sauce. “No. I think we’ll just stop letting it decide what happens next.” He nodded like that was enough,well maybe it was. A week passe by then we got a mail,an actual one matter of fact,not coded drops not invisible ink. Just a square envelope with no return address.

And chaos is just fear wearing a different mask. --- The mail comes at noon. Bills. A catalog. A letter from Mireille — she and Hana are traveling through Italy, eating pasta, arguing about directions. She sounds happy. The kind of happiness that comes from choosing something instead of running from it. There's also a package. Brown paper, no return address. I open it on the porch. Inside, a book. A memoir. The cover is simple — a photograph of the Seine at dawn, gray and gold and beautiful. The title: The CEO Already Knew.

“Thanks. Gonna need brain-bleach to get rid of that image.” Cassie chuckles and takes a half-bow. “My pleasure.” I sigh, doing my best to repress images of Martha Wilkins (all three-hundred pounds of her) enjoying the latest Mills & Boon novel, say Midnight in the Desert, Midnight in the Summer, or, predictably, Midnight in the Harem. “All right, then. You’re free. Nothing coming until Monday morning. Got a shipment of comic books due. The York Book Emporium from Pennsylvania is sending us some of their overstock.”

“Put your shirt on and answer the door A.S.A.P!" I smiled coyly. "Yes, ma'am." The loud knock continued to echo through the house, prompting me to finally take a move and head towards the front door. I swung it open to find a mailman holding a white envelope in his hand. "Good afternoon, sir. I have a letter for a....Mr. Aiden Blackwood," the mailman announced, waving the envelope. "That's me." "Right." The mailman replied, handing over the envelope. I accepted the letter with a polite nod, offering my thanks to the mailman before closing the door. I glanced at the envelope, noting the elegant golden script that adorned it. On the front of the paper, the initials 'FA' are in gold lettering.

After about 30 minutes, my computer dings, and I see that I have an email. The subject read: Performance Contract – Magenta’s Ink. My mouth dropped open. Magenta’s Ink was an insanely popular band. Why would their agent be contacting me? My phone dinged moments later. Chief Mulligan: You owe me one.

The book is already published here in Goodnovel, and is titled, "The Mate He Never Expected: His Crazy Obsession" Please, go ahead and add the book to your libraries. Let's start another fun ride. Also, don't forget to leave your comments, vote with plenty of gems, and share my book. The book had entered another contest. So your support is very much appreciated! Also your opinions! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>.