Action Thriller Book Novels & Stories

Only one thing reassures me: it seems that they lose their power at sunrise. I close my last manual, pick up the pile and I put each book back in its place. My hands are trembling dangerously and my heart rate betrays my anxiety. While putting the last book down, I stay an instant with a hand placed on the edge, thinking. Right now, I have to look for another place to live, and it has to be fast!

Killing a woman who posts no threats to her is too much. As the hired man approached Marie Arnold, his footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit alleyway, he felt a familiar surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had always been killing, and this is the same feeling he always feels whenever he is about to kill someone. He knew what he had been tasked to do, but as he drew closer to his target, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that gnawed at the edges of his conscience.

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.

Don Niko didn't save me from the hands of death only for me to betray him like this. ‘You already messed up. Retrace your fucking steps Thalia,’ my innervoice urged me, making me slip my hands into my bag. My fingers curled tightly around the gun, my heart fluttering with fear as I slowly pulled it out. In my three years of murdering people, I'd never felt so scared to shoot someone. Christ. Was this what it felt like to be dickmatized? I discarded the thought. I wasn't weak. I wasn't sentimental. It was just sex and nothing more. It didn't change the fact that he was my target to assassinate.

, but before the old lady could complete CEO intervenes,” just throw her out of my cabin right now or else I am going to fire you all”, ordering his guards Just burn each and every copy of this book or else ....”, But before she could complete her sentence suddenly her voice gets husky and his facial expressions starts changing, and she again continues,” I am going to. “, and once again before completing her sentence she ends up hitting wall of the room exploding her mind like a bomb and soon her blood spills all over the room which leaves both of us scared So not having any other option with just ended up burning each and every copy of the book which were collected across the globe but stil

They had been going to shelter and helping out as much as they can, they even funded a couple of new shelter for abused women with the help of Carol's acquaintances. She has been very pleased with her life. She married Ian married a year ago at Taylor's residence. Everyone was there, the Dubois and their cowboys, also Emilie and Max and even Rebecca. Everything has been perfect up until that dreadful afternoon. She was about to go home and was waiting for a taxi since Carol had another appointment and taking the driver back with her. That was when the assailant pushes her down to the alley and told her to give him the purse. She did just that and then he took her amulet with him thinking tha

PROLOGUE – EXTENDED Title: What the Fire Forgot Book Two: Throne of Fire & Favors: Loyalty Is a Loaded Gun Time: 4 Months After Naomi Raines' Death Location: Valeburn City, Southside Block, Navarro-District Border Weather: Overcast with the smell of distant smoke and oil; a light wind rustles charred flyers across blood-washed pavement Soundscape: Buzzing streetlamps, the soft clink of bottles, low whimpers from alley shadows, and sirens like lullabies for broken cities

" My head shot up as my eyes locked on Alex, bloodshot and wild. My voice was raw as I barked furiously, "And when they were done, when they finally realized what they did, they panicked. Those cowards—those killers! They smashed Sharon's face in with rocks! "Then they dumped her like trash… off the steepest cliff in Deadman's Hollow!"

Too controlled. Like two men smiling through clenched teeth. Like enemies pretending to be brothers. The poolside was quiet. Calm. Exactly what I needed. I placed my book, my phone, and a small plate of snacks on the table before settling into the chair. For a moment, everything felt normal. Then I heard movement. Water shifting. I turned. And froze. Maxwell. Stepping out of the pool. Water traced down his body in slow lines, catching the morning light. His shoulders, his chest, the sharp definition of his muscles—

I motioned for Raven to hold position as we crouched behind a tall tree, our cover. “The light’s dying. I’ll go get something to keep it burning,” the pacing one muttered, peeling off toward us. Perfect. I tucked my gun inside my waistband and waited. As soon as he got close enough—too close—I pounced. My hand clamped over his mouth, his eyes widening in terror. My blade flashed, clean and quiet, slicing across his throat. He crumpled like paper, blood blooming down his chest. Raven caught his body and dragged it into the shadows.