Killing Time

"There's something so fascinating about your innocence," he breathes, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. "It's a shame my own darkness is going to destroy it. However, I think I might enjoy the act of doing so." Being reborn as an immortal isn't particularly easy. For Rosie, it's made harder as she is sentenced to live her life within Time's territory, a powerful Immortal known for his callous behaviour and unlawful followers. However, the way he appears to her is not all there is to him. In fear of a powerful danger, Time whisks her away throughout his own personal history. But going back in time has it's consequences; mainly which, involve all the dark secrets he's held within eternity. But Rosie won't lie. The way she feels toward him isn't just their mate bond. It's a dark, dangerous attraction that bypasses how she has felt for past relationships. This is raw, passionate and sexy. And she can't escape it.

Reina Carlo was forged by the Stingers, a shadowy organization that raised her to be a weapon. Her memories of a family—a mother’s face or a father’s embrace—were long lost, replaced by the harsh discipline and ruthless training of her surrogate family. To her, the Stingers were everything, until betrayal shattered the fragile foundation of her loyalty. Now, Reina walks the streets as the hunter, her mission deeply personal. A man who dared to strip away her last shred of innocence must face the consequences. Her scars are tools, her training a guide, and by sunrise, her vengeance will be complete. But each kill leaves a stain on her soul, no matter how she rationalizes it. She tells herself the trade is fair: she removes monsters, and the world lets her survive another day. Redemption and forgiveness don’t belong in her world—they are luxuries for those unbroken by life. Yet the nightmares persist, whispering of a stolen past and a family that might still exist. Did they abandon her, or did they think her lost? These thoughts claw at her resolve, forcing her to confront a truth she can’t bury: forgetting isn’t the same as letting go. Her pact with Marco Alessandro—a powerful, calculating man—only adds to her turmoil. Their marriage of convenience grants her the resources to find her family and avenge her past. But Marco’s unrelenting gaze and quiet intensity break through her defenses, challenging the walls she’s built. As vengeance, love, and identity collide, Reina faces a choice: cling to the darkness she knows or risk everything for a future she can’t predict. In this world of shadows and betrayal, Reina Carlo fights not just to survive—but to discover who she truly is.

11 Students wake up in a completely isolated building, with no way out, and no way to tell the time of day. They are forced to follow the rules of a "Killing Game' in order to earn their freedom, where murdering means a potential escape. From personal tensions and handpicked motivations, will they be able to find a way out before they all drop dead?

Eliza Ward does not fall through time. Time bends toward her. Pulled from the present into Revolutionary America, Eliza becomes trapped in a landscape where history repeats unevenly, battles restart with variations, and memory functions as both anchor and weapon. She is not a chosen heroine, but a constant: a woman whose awareness destabilizes the moment itself. She meets Mercy Hale, a midwife and witch who understands time as a negotiation rather than a force to command. Mercy aids Eliza’s survival while refusing the role of savior, having already learned the cost of standing too close to history’s center. During a looping battle, Eliza saves Thomas Reed, a Continental soldier who does not shift when time does. Thomas is an anchor: steady, observant, unchanged across iterations. Their bond deepens in an almost-normal village where time briefly behaves. Eliza’s intervention triggers time’s response. Rather than immediate destruction, time collects interest. Mercy bargains to spare Eliza and Thomas, sacrificing her own future to stabilize the present. Time extracts payment from Eliza as well, stripping away her voice, the very tool she uses to name and hold moments in place. Silenced and unmoored, Eliza is violently displaced back into the original battle. Unable to anchor the moment, she watches Thomas die in the version of history that was always waiting beneath her defiance. Told in rotating perspectives between Eliza, Thomas, and Mercy, The Hours That Refused to Behave is a lyrical time-travel novel about revolution, restraint, and consequence, asking not whether history can be changed, but who pays when it is.

This is thriller where the killer murders with put leaving a detail and you wont ever feel bored i guess all of you guys will enjoy reading this

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.