Read Online Walk with Me Through Time (The Dimension Keepers) by Jennifer Conner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Conner
Tags: adventure, Romance, Contemporary, Ebook, Amazon, E-Book, Action, Humour, Short Stories, British, Authors, American, australia, Bestseller, Short-Story, Reader, USA, digital, Stories, submission, book, Writing, UK, Romantic, Read, Comedy, seattle, story, free, books, Britain, shop, links, eBook Publsiher, sale, reads, au, submit, download, mobi pocket, electronic, lit, best seller, publishing, author, digital publisher, myspace, Smashwords, publish, html, publication, award winning, submissions, buy, shopping, publisher, marketing, wwwbookstogonow.com, buy here, yahoo, fictionwise, award, PDF, reading, fantasies, purchase, Droid, bebo, recommended read, Books to Go Now, publications, writers, phone apps
Ads: Link
settled in an apartment on the East Side, she could get a bookshelf and begin to fill it.
She turned the large brass knob and stepped inside. The walls were lined, floor to ceiling, with books.
An elderly man with flowing white hair looked surprised at first, but then greeted her with a kind smile. “Welcome, Miss,” he said in a thick Scottish accent. “Happy you decided to take a chance and come in out of the rain. I didn’t expect anyone today. We don’t see many such as yourself.”
“Book buyers?” She laughed. “I know we are a dying breed.”
He studied her before saying, “Fascinating…”
“I love the smell of musty leather bound editions. It brings back memories of my grandfather’s study.” Sam inhaled. “I have a new flat and want to start a library of old books. I’m looking for—“
He cut her off. “What you’re looking for is in the back of the store and up the stairs. Aisle twenty-three. Row H.” He smiled and clapped his hands together.
“I never said what I was looking for.” Strange little man . She backed towards the door.
“Oh, aye. I didn’t mean to scare you, lass. After being in this shop for more years than anyone can imagine, I take pride in reading what people may like. You look like someone who reads Dickens. Aisle twenty-three. Row H.”
This was odd. She was thinking of picking up a work by Dickens right before she came through the door.
“Are you a bookseller or a mind reader?” Sam relaxed, and propped her umbrella in the corner by the front door.
“A little of both.” The old man laughed. “Dickens is a favorite of mine and I can usually spot another kindred soul a mile away.”
Sam thanked him and headed off through the shop. She was happy she still wore her coat. A sudden cool breeze brushed her face. The farther she moved into the store, the cooler the breeze. It didn’t grow in strength, only dropped in temperature. There must be an open door in the back. She pulled her coat tight at the neck.
She followed the antique painted signs and climbed a short set of wooden stairs until she found aisle twenty-three. Sam ran her hands over the beautiful leather bound editions. She would never be able to afford anything here. Without even looking at the prices, she knew these were collectable and very old editions.
A Tale of Two Cities. David Copperfield . A Christmas Carol.
A wooden box sat on one of the higher shelves. Sam stood on tiptoes, pulled it off the shelf, and lifted the first paper . All the Year Round. A Weekly Journal. Conducted by Charles Dickens. 1861. It was a lovely reprint of the original paper where Dickens published his work. She hoped the cost to purchase it would be reasonable and slid it free from the box.
“How did you get back here?” a deep voice asked.
Sam jumped a foot and dropped everything. Paper scattered across the floor and the box landed with a thud.
The young man squatted, scooped up the papers and then looked at her. Something shifted in his expression to surprise or possibly recognition. She wasn’t sure. His eyes were blue but such a deep shade they were as dark as midnight. His hair was black, thick, and touched the collar of his coat. The wood floor creaked when he stood. He was also very tall—taller than her brothers, over six-three. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m sorry. Is this area somehow off limits? Her gaze flicked down his wool waistcoat, linen shirt and cravat. She broke out in a giggle. “Or is a lunchtime actor’s studio taking place back here?”
Chapter 2
“Actor’s studio? As in a play? You still haven’t told me how you got here.” A thousand questions raced through Hadley’s mind but all he could do was repeat his first.
This was the woman who appeared in his dreams..
“I walked in the front door and the man at the counter directed me here.” She shot him an odd look.
“The front door?” No one came through the front door. That was the portal. One only left
She turned the large brass knob and stepped inside. The walls were lined, floor to ceiling, with books.
An elderly man with flowing white hair looked surprised at first, but then greeted her with a kind smile. “Welcome, Miss,” he said in a thick Scottish accent. “Happy you decided to take a chance and come in out of the rain. I didn’t expect anyone today. We don’t see many such as yourself.”
“Book buyers?” She laughed. “I know we are a dying breed.”
He studied her before saying, “Fascinating…”
“I love the smell of musty leather bound editions. It brings back memories of my grandfather’s study.” Sam inhaled. “I have a new flat and want to start a library of old books. I’m looking for—“
He cut her off. “What you’re looking for is in the back of the store and up the stairs. Aisle twenty-three. Row H.” He smiled and clapped his hands together.
“I never said what I was looking for.” Strange little man . She backed towards the door.
“Oh, aye. I didn’t mean to scare you, lass. After being in this shop for more years than anyone can imagine, I take pride in reading what people may like. You look like someone who reads Dickens. Aisle twenty-three. Row H.”
This was odd. She was thinking of picking up a work by Dickens right before she came through the door.
“Are you a bookseller or a mind reader?” Sam relaxed, and propped her umbrella in the corner by the front door.
“A little of both.” The old man laughed. “Dickens is a favorite of mine and I can usually spot another kindred soul a mile away.”
Sam thanked him and headed off through the shop. She was happy she still wore her coat. A sudden cool breeze brushed her face. The farther she moved into the store, the cooler the breeze. It didn’t grow in strength, only dropped in temperature. There must be an open door in the back. She pulled her coat tight at the neck.
She followed the antique painted signs and climbed a short set of wooden stairs until she found aisle twenty-three. Sam ran her hands over the beautiful leather bound editions. She would never be able to afford anything here. Without even looking at the prices, she knew these were collectable and very old editions.
A Tale of Two Cities. David Copperfield . A Christmas Carol.
A wooden box sat on one of the higher shelves. Sam stood on tiptoes, pulled it off the shelf, and lifted the first paper . All the Year Round. A Weekly Journal. Conducted by Charles Dickens. 1861. It was a lovely reprint of the original paper where Dickens published his work. She hoped the cost to purchase it would be reasonable and slid it free from the box.
“How did you get back here?” a deep voice asked.
Sam jumped a foot and dropped everything. Paper scattered across the floor and the box landed with a thud.
The young man squatted, scooped up the papers and then looked at her. Something shifted in his expression to surprise or possibly recognition. She wasn’t sure. His eyes were blue but such a deep shade they were as dark as midnight. His hair was black, thick, and touched the collar of his coat. The wood floor creaked when he stood. He was also very tall—taller than her brothers, over six-three. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m sorry. Is this area somehow off limits? Her gaze flicked down his wool waistcoat, linen shirt and cravat. She broke out in a giggle. “Or is a lunchtime actor’s studio taking place back here?”
Chapter 2
“Actor’s studio? As in a play? You still haven’t told me how you got here.” A thousand questions raced through Hadley’s mind but all he could do was repeat his first.
This was the woman who appeared in his dreams..
“I walked in the front door and the man at the counter directed me here.” She shot him an odd look.
“The front door?” No one came through the front door. That was the portal. One only left
Similar Books
