{"id":252459,"date":"2026-07-13T02:06:28","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T23:06:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/a-bookish-story-heatherly-bell\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T02:06:28","modified_gmt":"2026-07-12T23:06:28","slug":"a-bookish-story-heatherly-bell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/a-bookish-story-heatherly-bell\/","title":{"rendered":"A Bookish Story – Heatherly Bell"},"content":{"rendered":"
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I\u2019m going to hang up and write now.\u201d Afterward, my new words come easily, fingers flying across the keyboard. It\u2019s taken me all this time, but I finally know what\u2019s missing from my book. My heart. I think of true love like my parents had once. He was the love of her life until he was taken away. I need more of that emotion to drive me. And then I write with my heart cracked and bleeding all over the pages. 1kitap1.com\/en n Sunday morning, I wake clutching my laptop, still in the clothes I wore yesterday.<\/p>\n

I haven\u2019t pulled an all-nighter like this since I was a teenager. I\u2019ve been writing all weekend and it feels so freeing. Panicked, I make sure everything I wrote last night was saved. Only when I\u2019m certain every word is right where I left it, I hook up my laptop to charge and make my way to the main house for coffee and a shower. Abuelita will already be at mass with her friends.<\/p>\n

Sometimes Eddie takes her, sometimes he does not. But either way, he\u2019s never sacked out on the couch the way I find him now. I wonder now how long this has been going on. \u201cWhy are you sleeping on the couch?\u201d I ask him. He rolls over and yawns.<\/p>\n

\u201cI let your mami take my room. It just makes sense.\u201d I sigh. Of course it would make sense to Eddie. He couldn\u2019t abide having a woman sleep on a sofa when there was a perfectly good bed available. \u201cI\u2019m not here all that much,\u201d he protests. \u201cBut having a bed to sleep in is the main reason you live here.\u201d He waves it away. \u201cShe needs a bed more than I do.\u201d \u201cYou have a bad back!\u201d \u201cThis couch is actually comfortable,\u201d he says but when he winces, I know he\u2019s lying.<\/p>\n

\u201cRiiight.\u201d I wish my entire family wouldn\u2019t cater to my mother but I remind myself they\u2019re doing it for me. Because she\u2019s connected to me, and more importantly my father, and that\u2019s all it takes in the Santana home.<\/p>\n

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. 1kitap1.com\/en For my uncle Johnny 1kitap1.com\/en CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Epilogue Also by Heatherly Bell About the Author 1kitap1.com\/en N CHAPTER 1 obody plans to live in a converted garden shed when they\u2019re on the cusp of turning thirty.<\/p>\n

But that\u2019s exactly where I live, in the backyard of my abuelita\u2019s home, since rent in my small town in the Bay Area is such that most people my age can\u2019t afford to live alone. The threat of months in my she-shed has brought me to this moment. Something has to change. And behind the door of the charming bungalow residential house standing before me, there is possibility. This leafy tree-lined area is commonly referred to as Professorville, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Seven Trees, closest to the university.<\/p>\n

I need this second job as a research assistant to a visiting history professor. It pays well, and once your fianc\u00e9 dumps you weeks before the wedding, a girl needs a second job. This position would be perfect, with the flexible hours I can use to work around my main job as a ghostwriter. I walk up the short flight of steps to the porch of the home with a pitch- style roof, a stone chimney, and a large picture window facing the front.<\/p>\n

The door is painted a forest green, giving the cottage a secret-garden quality. Fist raised to the door, I\u2019m ready to state my case as to why I should be hired. But before I knock, the door swings open, and a middle-aged man who looks like the professor of my former MFA program in creative writing greets me. My shoulders unstiffen and I relax. This is perfect. He resembles every other professor I\u2019ve ever met, and I\u2019ve met a lot of them. Portly, barrel-chested, wearing tweed, beard.<\/p>\n

Check, check, check, check. \u201cWell, hello! You must be here for the research position,\u201d he says and waves me inside. \u201cPlease do come in.\u201d \u201cThank you! I\u2019m so glad to meet you. My name is Lucia Milagros Santana but please call me Luci.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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