#s. j. simon

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

No Nightingales is a 1944 comedy novel by Caryl Brahms and S.J. Simon, a regular writing team between 1937 and 1950. The title is a reference to the popular wartime song A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. The novel is loosely inspired by the legend of the supposedly haunted townhouse 50 Berkeley Square. The story is set in a house in Berkeley Square, haunted by two benevolent ghosts coping with new occupants between the reigns of Queen Anne and George V. 

You can read the book for free online at the archive.org :) <3 (free registration needed)

[gh0stmorii]

Ell’ o’ ell’ some Simon art hehehe <33 my s/o has introduced me into cry of fear and I am going feral w/ the art ^^

[nobigneil]

[vaultnewt]

I know I haven’t shown y’all my Venture Bros OC, Harley St. Simone, but I wanted to state that GingerRoots (Harley x Rusty) radiates very strong “Fluffy Cat + Hairless Cat” energy.

In case you��re unsure of what that means, please refer to to the following:

I rest my case.

[lgbtqreads]

Fave Five: Queer Fae Fiction

Shatterproof by Xen Broken Wings by L.-J. Baker The Faerie Hounds of York by Arden Powell The Fae Queen’s Captive by Sierra Simone Close Quarter by Anna Zabo Bonus: This is all Adult fiction, but you can find YA titles here, plus The Halfling Saga by Melissa Blair and The Absinthe Underground by Jamie Pacton  

[dreamcastingbroadway]

Dreamcasting Broadway: SUNSET BLVD.

"No words can tell the stories my eyes tell."

Dreamcasting Broadway: Sunset Blvd.

Anne Hathaway as Norma Desmond (rumored)

Colton Ryan as Joe Gillis

Jisel Soleil Ayon as Betty Schaefer

Michael C. Hall as Max Von Mayerling

Alizé Cruz as Dorothy/Ensemble (Betty u/s)

Ashley Merritt as Jean/Ensemble

Cait Fairbanks as Mary/Heather/Ensemble (Norma u/s)

Christopher Robert Hanford as Sheldrake/Ensemble

Colin Anderson as DeMille/Stan/Finance Man/Ensemble (Max u/s)

Daniel J. Maldonado as Morino/Hog-Eye/Ensemble (Joe u/s)

Gillian Jackson Harper as Young Norma/Patsy/Ensemble

Jake David Smith as Artie/Ensemble (Joe u/s)

Jenny Mollet as Lisa/Ensemble

Keirsten Hodgens as Joanna/Guard/Ensemble

Michael Ivan Carrier as John/Ensemble

Peli Naomi Woods as Katherine/Camera Operator/Ensemble

Preston Mui as Myron/Jones/Camera Operator/Ensemble

Rachel Simone Webb as Nancy/Ensemble (Betty u/s)

Tristan Hill as Frank/Finance Man/Ensemble

Usman Ali Mughal as Sammy/Ensemble (Max u/s)

Amaya White as Swing

Daniel Thimm as Swing

Emiliano Morales as Swing

Sabrina Imamura as Swing

Taylor Sage Evans as Swing

Travante S. Barker as Swing

Lena Hall as Alternate (Norma Desmond)

Janet Dacal as Standby (Norma Desmond)

[graphicpolicy]

Hush Returns in Batman #158 and DC has revealed variants covers and more!

Hush Returns in Batman #158 and DC has revealed variants covers and more! #comics #comicbooks #batman

Jeph Loeb and Jim Lee’s next installment of their celebrated Batman: Hush comic book saga begins in DC’s Batman #158 on March 26, 2025. This new run, collectively called Batman: H2SH, will run monthly for six issues through August’s Batman #163. Batman #158, written by Jeph Loeb with art and main cover by Jim Lee, Scott Williams, and Alex Sinclair, will feature variant covers by J. Scott…

[betterbooksandthings]

"Ahoy! Welcome aboard. On this ship, all pirate romance books end with a pirate sailing into the proverbial sunset with their love. Taught sails, sturdy planks, and an oh-so-dangerous ocean await. Get ready because you are in for a nautical treat.

Pirate romance books have long brought solace to readers who want to find love at sea with dangerous, daring, and heroic rogues. Pirates are the bandits of the sea. Even a privateer sanctioned by the government to be a pirate gets a pass in romance. After all, they have all the appeal of a pirate and the ability to operate in society if they want to."

[alltheplanetsfelltodust]

Paradise/Bora🪐

(Lore Diaries 01)

*the lore diaries are gonna be a little mini “series” explaining the lore of various characters in the au!!*

Paradise (also occasionally nicknamed Bora) is an angel who helps the recently deceased and guides them/helps them understand what happened!

He is a part of a group known as The Galactic Elite. (there are five main angels/beings who are in charge of protecting various species and beings, some of them are in charge of galactic things!)

(APPEARANCE WILL BE ADDED SOON)

[bob-the-movie-man-film-reviews]

One Mann's Movies Film Review of "Warfare". An astounding, horrifically realistic peek into the hells of the Iraqi war by a SEAL who was actually there. 5/5.

[tuzolelewattpad]

Charly: La première fois que je t'ai vu j'ai su que j'allais t'épouser un jour

Mino: Arrête avec ça, Charly!

Charly: j'suis sérieux

Mino: pffff on épouse pas les gens comme ça au premier regard!

Charly: Dans notre cas si!

Mino: Tu es un beau parleur Charly!

Charly: Tu es une belle source d'inspiration à mes paroles Mino

Elle sourit

Mino: je vais te laisser. Je dois rentrer étudier.

Charly la regarde sans rien dire, puis finalement s'avance vers elle et la rattrape en prenant sa main.

Mino: ?

Charly: tu ne me dis pas au revoir?

Il vient plus près d'elle et approche son visage pour lui faire la bise. Mino ressent tout de suite sa chaleur. Charly semble être un radiateur vivant. L'air autour de lui est chaud, et son souffle près de sa joue lui donne un léger frisson.

Leur peau se touche et Charly fait durer le moment exprès. Puis il lui chuchote à l'oreille

Charly: tu vas l'oublier t'inquiète.

Elle ne dit rien mais elle est prise d'un sentiment de tristesse tout d'un coup. Un sentiment qui la ferait tomber dans les bras de Charly à l'instant. Juste pour oublier Mike et tout ce qu'il représente pour elle. Et surtout tout le mal qu'elle éprouve juste en pensant à lui.

Mino: je ne pense plus à lui

Charly toujours collé à sa joue " tu as mis genre 5 minutes avant de me répondre et tu voudrais que j'te crois!"

Mino: Je ne pense plus à lui, j'te dis!

Charly s'écarte et la regarde dans les yeux

Charly: alors embrasse moi!

Mino le regarde dans les yeux et s'approche pour poser ses lèvres sur la joue de Charly

Charly: non Mino tu n'm'auras pas comme ça! Je veux sentir ta bouche! Je veux prendre tes lèvres avec les miennes...

Elle le regarde alors qu'ils ne sont qu'à quelques centimètres l'un de l'autre. Et là Charly ne tient plus...

[mitjalovse]

Michael Cretu did end up on many surprising places thanks to him being at the periphery of a variety of a lot of things. Thus, you can locate him on the Scooter's album, which mashed up several songs. True, he might not have been present in the studio for the remake of his tune, but I find the entire situation quite funny, i.e. the thought of the members of Scooter listening to Enigma makes you laugh, since this might be really away from their usual music. Still, they did probably learn something from Cretu and his way around the studio. We have to be honest – Cretu did a lot of intriguing things, though he rarely revealed his recipes for them, letting the others figure that out. I'm sure Scooter appreciated that.

[nobigneil]

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ intoxication, sexual content, daddy kink, caretaking, blurry lines of consent.

You’re painfully unaware, though to you, he’s sure it's bliss. 

In your own little world, you stand at the long wooden table, fingers moving across the trackpad of a laptop, a pair of too big glasses sliding down your nose. The left lens is smudged, the smear only getting worse every time you push them up with the back of your hand. There’s a whirlwind of stuff around you, bowls and bags and measuring cups, cracked egg shells and sprinkles scattered across the wood, multi colored icing separated into different containers, and you're so into your work you don't even realize he's in the doorway. 

He almost feels bad for scaring you when he clears his throat. Almost. 

“Oh my god,” you whirl, hand pressed to your chest, half ready to bolt. “S-sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were there.” 

Is that anyway to say hi to your daddy sweetheart?

“Good morning.” He eyes the twenty four ounce mason jar to your left. It’s one quarter full, coffee and cream swirling to the bottom. Too much caffeine. 

“Good morning, hi.” You smile, sweet and shy but more emboldened. It’s been a few days since he fed you bites of lemon meringue pie, a few days since he went home and stroked his cock to the memory of your mouth parting for him, eyes half lidded looking up through your lashes. 

Since then, you’ve a bit more brave, encouraged by his careful coaxing, text messages at night and throughout the day to check in, visits in the morning as he heads to base. 

He’s leading his little lamb right into her shepherd’s arms. 

“What’re you working on?” 

“Funfetti birthday cake.” You slide your glasses back up your face. They’re a mess and he can’t resist fixing it, pulling them off, wiping the lenses with bottom of his shirt. You freeze. Little deer in his headlights. 

“Didn’t know you wore glasses.” He places them back where they belong, righting them when they slip, and confirming what he already knew. They’re too big. You need new ones. 

“Th-thank you. I do for reading. And… er, screens. Reading on screens, mostly, though I need them for books too so I guess just… reading in general.” He understands the pause now, the moments when you’ve become self conscious, embarrassed, or you’re looking for the words you need, anxiously trying to piece it all together, step into a skin that doesn't quite fit. 

A rhythm the world doesn't understand. Too cruel, impatient, cold, it has no care for fragile things, too easily reflecting a mirror of his former self. 

He files the bit about you needing to wear glasses when you read, another notation in the long list he’s already memorized, organized, and moves onto his next inquiry. “Who’s the birthday cake for?” 

“Mara. It’s her birthday. They’re…” you make a face like you’ve sniffed spoiled milk, “we’re going out to a pub to celebrate.” He stiffens. On one hand, he’s proud of you. On the other, the idea of you in a pub raises the hair on the back of his neck, has him a bit out of his mind. 

He’s not interested in clipping your wings, but going out to a pub with no one to watch over you? Not bloody likely. “Tonight?” 

“Mhm.” You’re rubbing a stick of butter in a round pan. “Funfetti is the classic birthday cake. You know, the vanilla cake with the sprinkles?” He shakes his head. “Oh. Well, um, it is. It's mostly a kid thing now, but I think it's the ultimate birthday cake. Birthdays are supposed to be fun but you know... they kind of suck when you're an adult. Anyway... funfetti is fun so, that's why...” 

“Maybe you can save me a slice. Where are you going?” 

“Save you…" your brows crease as you try to process what he's said. "Doc’s.” You’ve dropped the stick of butter abruptly, greasy fingers gripping the edge of the pan. Doc’s. It’s a younger crowd, a bit posh, but still a bit dark. Has a bit of an edge. 

It’s been a few weeks since he’s gotten a pint with Kyle and Johnny anyway. 

He smiles, strokes the backs of his knuckles down your cheek, satisfied when you lean in for more, disappointed the few minutes he had to drop in are now over. “I’ve gotta go baby, be good for me.” Your mouth drops open so wide he thinks he might be able to fit his cock in it. 

“Oh, okay. I- I will.” 

What did you forget?

Daddy. I will, daddy.

“That ‘er?” Kyle motions with his beer bottle towards the table where you stand nervously at the edge, floral flecked dress swaying just above your knees. You've looped a white ribbon through your hair, the beacon of a gentle soul that seems to be calling out to every muppet in the building, every wandering eye fueling a fire burning in his blood. 

“Yeah.” His stomach is sour. Even a neat pour of whiskey and pint didn’t settle him. 

You’re trying so hard. Smiling and nodding and listening to everyone, clutching your drink like it’s a lifeline. Mara seems to understand the grace you need, but no one else in the group gets it, and some of them give you weird looks, or worse, look at each other when you’re not paying attention in annoyance. Your only friend at the table catches a few of them and shoots stern glares as she shakes her head, but it doesn’t change much. 

“She looks uncomfortable,” Johnny grunts, his scrupulous eye never missing a thing. Someone asks you a question, and you stumble over your answer, looking away to the wall when a girl to your left blatantly smirks, and then sneers directly in your face. Simon’s blood boils. 

“She’s different from them, it’s hard for her.” It's the easiest way to explain it. You’re one in a million. His one in a million. 

The table laughs at something, and you frantically flick over each person’s face, trying to pick up on a joke you clearly did not understand. Eventually, you just settle for another smile, resigned to watch it all from the outside as conversation flows from person to person, but never towards you. 

Sweet girl. He wants to take you home where you’re safe and happy and carefree, where you can be yourself and not have to worry about trying to keep up or facing everyone’s judgement. Where he can hold your perfect and precious heart in his hand and protect it. Where he can fuck the memory of this night right out of you, bounce you on his cock until the only thing you know how to do is come for him, over and over again. 

He misses the exact moment the cake appears among the stacks of shot glasses. Your anxiety ramps up as everyone starts to eat their slices, shoulders high beneath your ears, fingers knotted together too tight. It’s an eternity before the first person looks at you, mouth half full and thrilled, their enthusiasm alleviating some of the weight that's been sitting on his chest, and yours. Whatever they say seems to lessen the weight because you’re smiling again, excited, and as more people turn your way, the smile turns to a full on beam, your words from the other night echoing in his ears. 

I like feeding people. 

Another hour passes before he decides to call it, the group now spread across the pub, scattered around different tables, at the bar, outside smoking. You’re in a corner with your back to the room talking to Mara, and when he appears in her line of sight, she spots him immediately, grabbing your arm, mouthing something he doesn’t catch. 

You turn- 

And light up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

“Captain Riley!” The alcohol has made you bold, slow synapses firing less rapidly, providing a longer lead time, somewhat preventing you from second guessing or withholding yourself. 

“Hi baby.”

“I’m just gonna…” Mara tries to move away but you reach for her. 

“Happy Birthday Mar. Thanks for inviting,” you hiccup, “me.” She gives you a squeeze. 

“Thanks for coming, and for the cake, it was amazing. Made me feel like I was kid, ya know? When birthdays really mattered.” Sadness flickers in her eyes, and then disappears in a glaze of intoxication. “Anyway, see you Monday?” 

“Yep.” She gives you one more hug before slipping away, and you sigh. 

“She loved her cake.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You’ve got this dreamy look on your face, sleepy and sweet, a little kitten who’s ready to curl up for a nap. 

Cast a line. See if you’re biting. 

“How’re you gettin’ home?” 

“An uber?” You lick your lips. “Or… uh. A Lyft?” You lurch to the side and he darts forward to steady you, movement too fast for you to track, all of it ending up as a surprise, like you weren’t even in your body for a moment. “Th-thanks.” You study his hand, where it sits on your arm. “You know you’re so big?” His lips twitch to the side of his mouth. 

“Yeah sweetheart. I’m big.” You’re still staring at his hand. “D’you need a ride home?” 

“Huh?” He's held this in the back of his mind all night as a possibility, built a tentative plan for this opportunity too golden to pass up. No fucking way are you going home in a rideshare or with anyone else. 

“I’m taking you home.” You shrug at the declaration with little trepidation and take his hand. 

So sweet and full of trust. 

He never specified which home. 

When the gravel of his driveway crunches under the truck’s tires, you don’t stir, and you don’t wake up when he turns it off or opens the passenger side door, your head lolling against your shoulder. 

“Sweetheart,” He keeps his voice low, reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt, brushing against your breasts, soft exhales puffing little clouds across his skin. “We’re here.” 

“Hmm?” you crack an eye open and then shake your head, “no ‘m sleeping.” Your cheek is warm in his palm, and he kisses it, trying to rouse you, gauge your reaction. Your awareness. Your nose wrinkles. “Stop.” 

“C’mon, you'll be more comfortable inside.” You whimper when he jostles you, pinning a palm to your temple. 

“My head hurts.” Poor baby. 

“I know,” he pulls you up out of the seat and into his chest, carefully supporting your balance. He’s taking liberties now, wrapping an arm around your waist, curling his fingers along the nape of your neck, brushing his lips across your forehead when you whine, high pitched and crackled, broken under the weight of too much alcohol and need for more sleep. “I know baby, Let’s get you into bed.” You lay your cheek on his chest and sigh. 

“Okay.” 

“Spit.” He holds the cup under your lips and you do as he asks diligently, bubbly white toothpaste getting caught on the corner of your mouth. 

Getting you upstairs and into his room went just as he anticipated. A little anxiety, a little uncertainty, all of it gently soothed until you were sitting on his bed and he was taking off your shoes, reassuring you, promising everything was okay and you were right where you belonged. 

“You’re safe with me sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you.” 

Now, you’re perched on the closed toilet lid in his bathroom as he finishes brushing your teeth, sleepy and serene, naked thighs peeking out from beneath the hem of his t-shirt. 

You’re completely unguarded, vulnerable, another layer peeled back, another piece he lays claim to. 

His sweet little fawn. 

He knew all along this was underneath the weight you carried. That when you finally felt safe and cherished and cared for, you’d bloom, be yourself without the pressure of everything else. Deep down, beneath the expectations of how everyone thinks you should talk, or act, or behave, behind all the coping mechanisms you’ve taught yourself, buried under mountains of complexity, is his precious little girl who needs her hand held and her tears wiped. Who’s brilliant and beautiful and different, and has never had the space to just be. 

Now, you'll be able to do just that while he takes care of the rest. He'll decide. You’ll have boundaries. You’ll have rules. You’ll have daddy and he’ll take away the endless pressure that closes in on you from all sides, he'll ensure you get what you need. There will be less worry, less fear and unlimited opportunities to be. 

“My face.” You tilt your chin back with your eyes closed, and he chuckles. 

“What about it?” 

“My,” hiccup, “makeup.” He turns the tap on warm, testing the temp until he’s satisfied, and soaks a washcloth. 

“Keep your eyes closed.” You sit still as he works, dabbing away everything on your eyelids and lashes, wiping underneath to catch anything he missed. “There we go.” You sway in his grip and slur.

“Bed now?” 

“Last thing.” There’s a glass of water and naproxen on the counter, and you swallow them without question. He hides his grimace. That will need to be addressed in the morning. When you try to put the glass back on the counter, he shakes his head. “All of it,” you manage to get the rest of the water down, and he squeezes your hip. “That’s my girl.” 

“You’re warm.” Your arm is slung over his middle, a cold foot tucked between his knees, mouth half open on his pillow. Completely uninhibited, nearly asleep. 

His cock is hard against his stomach beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, aching with a fullness he can’t relieve. He’s been hard since he undressed you, peeled your bra off and held you to his chest as he unhooked it, felt your perfect, pretty breasts and nipples against him as he tugged his shirt over your head. You were bashful, buried your face into his neck with a trembling giggle, but refused to let go, sunk your fingernails into his biceps as your hands shook. His sweet, shy girl. 

He rubs your back, works his fingers in the knots between your shoulders, watching your lashes flutter as you try to fight sleep.  

“Tomorrow…” There’s a last minute flash of uncertainty, and he presses his lips to your forehead. 

“It’s okay, we’ll talk at breakfast sweetheart. It’s time for bed.” Tomorrow. You'll be fighting a battle tomorrow, a hangover, anxiety, an endless spiral of confusion and doubt, but he'll be here to guide you through it. 

The only way out is through. 

It will be a lot easier on both of you if you're able to get some sleep. 

“Yeah, ’s past my bedtime.” You whisper with a hazy, playful smile on the wisp of a giggle. "We should have pancakes for breakfast." Your easy, peaceful state encourages him to go a step further. Cast a line, see if you’re biting. 

"If you close your eyes and go to sleep, Daddy will make you pancakes in the morning." You nod with a yawn, tucking your face between the pillow and his shoulder. 

"Mmkay then. Night." It's not a protest, it's not a flinch, it's not a moment of disgust, and satisfaction roars, rips through him like bullet, this instinct and desire long honed finally settling in the place where it belongs. In you. 

"Goodnight baby." He stares at the ceiling as you disappear into dreams and plans his mission. Plots his checkpoints, sets his objectives. Lead, decide, control. 

Bring you home. Permanently. 

[amaranthinespirit]

size difference with Ghost 😈

size difference with simon riley

simon riley is massive, not just in terms of height, but muscle and dick too. this man is a wall of muscle, impenetrable and daunting the way he looms over a crowd with his plain, black balaclava. yet you find yourself with your arm looped around this brute of a man, his smitten gaze peering down at you, his arm twice the size of yours, and his hand too.

you hadn't thought about how difficult it'd be to take him until your nervous eyes gazed on his thick, engorged cock oozing with gooey arousal. fuck, you couldn't even think. you swallowed thickly, barely managing a whisper, "'s not gonna fit, si."

he chuckled at your whispered words, the way your eyes seem to stay stuck between his legs, large, veiny cock throbbing and aching to be inside you.

"mmm, it'll fit, baby, j's trus'me, hm?" he cocked his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his face, "such'a pre'ty lit'l cunt's made f'me, y'can take it, sweet girl."

he consoled you, but promised first to ease up your tight cunt on his thick fingers and sloppy tongue, eliciting pretty noises, and it wasn't until multiple orgasms later that he deemed you okay. your walls stretched around his digits, each new fingers added causing a whine to spill from your swollen lips and your walls to further constrict around him.

three orgasms in and your legs are jelly, trembling around his waist as pearly slick drools from your slit, puffy clit overstimulated and sensitive. sweat beads drip down your skin, creating a sheen across your even flesh.

you can barely register the low, gruff chuckle as he hauls you closer by your legs, underside of your knees resting now on his forearms, his large cock grazing through your slick folds.

a whimper strained from your throat, and all he did was shush you, "shh, lovie, you'll b'fine," he cooed, teasing his angry tip over your entrance, watching your hips buck up from the pillow under your hips, "nice and gentle, yeah?"

he waits for the nod of confirmation, the small hum that barely leaves your closed, swollen lips as you look up at him sweetly, your eyes hazed over and hair tousled.

"good girl," he praises, holding you firmly as he forces his fat cock past your folds, groaning at the way you seem to swallow him, walls constricting so tightly around him, he worries you might force him out, "fuckkk, s'tight, are ya, love? gettin' messy b'fore didn't 'elp, eh?"

he merely chuckles, watching the way your face contorts, jaw dropping as throaty noises slip past, your body writhing under him as you struggle to handle his meaty cock penetrating you, practically tearing you in two.

"not even halfway, swee'eart, c'mon, y'can take more, surely?" he teases, his eyes glancing down to where your bodies meet, entranced in the way you suck him in, lewd, flithy squelches as your pussy swallows him further.

you can only whine, tears brimming your eyes as you stare up at him with pleading eyes, "s'full," you can only manage.

"already? tha's n'good, baby..." he tsk's, shaking his head as he rocks his hips, thick, engorged cock slowly punching against your velvety, gooey walls, watching the way your tummy bulges with every small rut of wide hips, "can handle more, yeah? tha's m'girl."

he doesn't wait for an answer, using his leverage of your knees over his forearms to pull you down on his meaty cock, grunting lowly as he bottoms out. his full balls lightly slap against your plush rear, your skin already reddening as he fucks you down into the mattress, hips plowing into your warmth.

you can no longer register his words, his voice becoming another blur in your cock-drunk haze, your eyes rolled back as he continues to utter praises as his hips continue their relentless abuse to your sweet cunt, drooling around him and swallowing him whole.

see, he told you you can handle it, yeah? listen to him, he knows best.

[fandom]

Books

In which the demigods and a conniving triangle knock the necromancers and their cavaliers from their celestial heights!

This list is brought to you by Tor Publishing Group (@torpublishinggroup), which you’re probably familiar with, given that this is tumblr dot com.

Percy Jackson +1 by Rick Riordan

The Book Of Bill by Alex Hirsch

Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling

The Locked Tomb series -3 by Tamsyn Muir

The All for the Game series +3 by Nora Sakavic

The Warrior Cats series by Erin Hunter

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin

A Court of Thorns and Roses series +2 by Sarah J. Maas

Dracula -4 by Bram Stoker

The Trials of Apollo series +9 by Rick Riordan

The Odyssey +10 by Homer

Wings of Fire series +5 by Tui T. Sutherland

Six of Crows duology -9 by Leigh Bardugo

Discworld -5 by Terry Pratchett

The Silmarillion -4 by J. R. R. Tolkien

The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice

Pride and Prejudice -5 by Jane Austen

The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton

The Raven Cycle series -5 by Maggie Stiefvater

Frankenstein -7 by Mary Shelley

The Iliad -1 by Homer

Stormlight Archive +2 by Brandon Sanderson

1984 +4 by George Orwell

The Folk of the Air series -2 by Holly Black

Romeo and Juliet +20 by William Shakespeare

The Simon Snow series -6 by Rainbow Rowell

The Secret History -9 by Donna Tartt

Captive Prince series +13 by C. S. Pacat

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Good Omens +20 by Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

The Picture of Dorian Gray +18 by Oscar Wilde

The Sun and the Star -17 by Rick Riordan & Mark Oshiro

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare

The Far Side +11 by Gary Larson

The Animorphs series -13 by K. A. Applegate

Throne of Glass series -4 by Sarah J. Maas

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard series -3 by Rick Riordan

Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde +8 by Robert Louis Stevenson

Mistborn -1 by Brandon Sanderson

Diary of a Wimpy Kid -16 by Jeff Kinney

American Gods by Neil Gaiman

The Song Of Achilles -13 by Madeline Miller

Crescent City series by Sarah J. Maas

The Twilight Saga -3 by Stephenie Meyer

Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare

The Infernal Devices series by Cassandra Clare

The Bell Jar -12 by Sylvia Plath

The Wicked Powers series by Cassandra Clare

The Dark Artifices series by Cassandra Clare

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

So many books, so little time. Come find your online Community for all things books and reading. Right this way.