Action Thriller Book Novels & Stories

Since being devirginized by Kenton, I was even more aware of men’s pheromones than before. “You’re shivering,” he said as he grabbed my wrist and inspected my arm. “Are you seriously cold?” “I get cool at night, no matter the season,” I lied. I wasn’t about to admit that the goosebumps he was observing were from being so near to him. He made a ‘hmm’ sound as he released my wrist and made himself more comfortable by stretching his arm behind me across the back of the swing. “The girl was killed by a wolf. Everyone knows that. Why is Hap saying he needs to solve the case?”

Damn it, this wasn't an action movie. I growled at something very rude, fasted my M19 harder, and sprinted down the sidewalk on this side of the street. I never let our prey out of my sight for a moment. It was almost like a slalom. Again and again I had to avoid people and then I almost ran into a shelter. There was room for a handful of people in these small buildings. If you had to get to safety from a prole, you could run in there, seal the room and call the venators from inside via an emergency column.

I take the risk and launch at my attacker. A burly thug over six feet tall, dispatched to terminate my life, pauses to make a move in that instant. Without hesitation, I leap at him, sending the thug tumbling to the ground, slamming him down like the massive bull he is. As we wrestle on the ground, our bodies twist and turn in a fierce struggle to get him to release his gun. He fights to gain the upper hand, but I’m determined not to let him take control. The tension hangs thick in the air, each movement fueled by adrenaline and the desire to win.

Power will change, Revenge will change But the only thing that will not change will be . . . The Resurrection of the Thunder wolf. Next book titled : Thunder wolf ( book 2)

Klark, ‘Tribid Greed’ by Steve Reynolds, and a lot of other books. One by one Trisha returned all the books she'd picked. When she was beginning to get tired and unmotivated, the corner of her eyes perceived a strange book on a shelf not too far from where she was. Its spines were tattered and appeared like spiky wires beneath the poor lighting.

Ashley froze. Then Jax was there. He cut across her path, slammed his bike into the attacker’s, and in one brutal motion, drove his blade straight through the man’s throat. Blood sprayed dark in the moonlight. The Fang toppled limp, his bike veering wild before skidding into the rocks. Ashley’s heart stopped. Her ears rang. Jax didn’t look at her. He just wiped the blade on his jeans, slid it back into its sheath, and rolled on, hunting the next.

Then the room erupted. Shadows burst from the walls, guns already leveled. Too many. Ten, twelve, maybe more. “Ambush!” Thomas snarled, firing first. The world became bullets and blood. I ducked low, steel flashing. My knife sank into one man’s thigh, then his throat. I stole his gun, fired blind into the chaos. Thomas roared behind me, shot after shot cracking, each one answered by a hail of return fire. Something burned past my cheek, close enough to singe hair. Another grazed my shoulder, hot blood slicking down my sleeve.

But that was gone already now. The only thing that played in my head over and over again were the moments of his betrayal. The time when he had announced to us that Bianchi's men were going over to Vittoria's, and when I dived over her protecting her from the sniper, at Yara's party when Vittoria almost got kidnapped, the accident we had at Ontario.... It was all him. All North. My f*cking blood brother. The whole sh*t was messed up. I loaded one gun and handed it over to Vittoria, " Your knives wouldn't really do much if those airheads are with guns."

While I am waiting, I pick up the book by his bedside and read the title, ‘Six of Crows’, I turn it around to read the blurb, it was about six thieves trying to pull off an impossible heist to save their country. The book seemed like a very interesting read, maybe after Blake was done with the book, I could read after him. In the meantime, I bring out my phone and I open the app I have for books. I go the book I am currently reading, it is murder mystery/ thriller, titled ‘As good as dead’ and it is very interesting and intriguing.

And I was grateful for the time I needed to move past the anger and the humiliation of having him assert dominance like I was a common, misbehaving pup. I found myself in the library again, on the third day of my anti-Asha crusade, a book comfortable and familiar in my lap. It was a novel I hadn’t read yet, something I wasn’t used to. A crime thriller that had titillated my interest with its bold main character and wild plot twists that had me hooked from the first line. I was three quarters done with the book, quietly paging through the novel in the silence of the library. Not many wolves came by, which was something I had never been more grateful for, leaving me in peace.