Beach Mystery Books Novels & Stories

Maldives! Oh, the fresh island breeze that comes with. Picture yourself in the serene environment, body scantily clad, feet bare, sinking into the white beach sands, and while the cry of birds broke out from trees, the smell of the Sea drifts into your nostrils. It is every joy unmatched, I tell you. The smell of the ocean breeze, sailed to me, pulling that warm feel to every part of my being. I caught the vivid trees swaying side to side, dancing to the tunes of the wind, sparking the joy in me, at such view I was made to behold.

Since I’d made it a habit to pay attention to the strong urges that I got, I retracted my hand and left him as he lay. Cautiously slipping out of bed, I didn’t take my eyes off the shimmering light while I slowly walked toward it. -Luckily, I possessed nerves of steel and didn’t frighten easily. Nora always said that it was one of the traits that made me a good investigator.- I was a mere few inches away when I noticed that it contained a figure inside of it. Was it a ghost? I’d never seen a ghost, so I had no idea what they looked like. Although, I thought that, if it was a ghost, the light should be shaped like a person; not containing a person. Dumbfounded, and in mild shock at see

The storm continued raging. Lightning split the sky. Thunder shook the island. Yet somehow— that tiny light never wavered. Never disappeared. It simply kept coming. Lily pressed against the window. Trying to see better. Trying to understand. Then another flash of lightning illuminated the ocean. And this time— she saw a figure. A person. Holding the light. Walking across the black beach. The same way the mysterious figure had stood on the boat. Motionless. Patient. Watching. Then darkness returned.

I pointed to them. “Police on the scene are tight-lipped so far, but based on the state of the bodies, these are not recent deaths. One peculiar note: the wrists of the two bodies are chained together. It looks like we have a bit of a mystery here on Bayport Beach. I’m Janice Holden, Channel Six News.” She tossed the microphone to the cameraman. “Thanks, kid. Watch the news at noon, you’re famous!” She gave me a dazzling smile and trudged back on wobbly heels toward the van. I slipped back under the tape and went to Officer Duffy. “Excuse me, do I need to stay here?”

I did my best to take care not to scratch the leather, but when it fell into my arms, I noticed what looked like a fresh dig. Books were not as common in that era as they were in the future so I felt bad about causing damage to it. My lamenting lasted only briefly. An intense curiosity took over just as soon as I realized that it was a journal. It was not just any journal, either. This journal belonged to the late Elsbeth Sleuth. Could the deep, dark family secret be discovered within its pages? I simply had to find out. Lowering myself into a comfy nearby chair, I opened to the first page and focused on the elaborate handwriting. It took some time to familiarize myself with her dramat

Or both. Who hurt my little wolf. I approach slowly. “You always look that serious when you’re reading, or is it just this one?” She startles, but then her mouth lifts into a soft grin. There it is. She raises the book slightly so I can see the cover. THE LIGHTHOUSE LETTERS “It’s good,” she says. “Bit slow, but kind of addictive.” I lean a little closer, voice low. “Let me guess. Mysterious stranger? Scary coastline? Lots of longing?”

I sat beside her, and she immediately stretched her legs back out, her feet landing in my lap. "What are you reading?" She held up the book without looking away from the page. "A mystery novel. A detective in Victorian London." I caught sight of the cover. A woman in a low-cut dress leaned against a man in a top hat, their faces inches apart in the fog. The Scarlet Letter Murders. I grabbed the book from her hands. "Hey!" She sat up, reaching for it. I flipped through a few pages. My eyes landed on a passage. His mouth found the hollow of her throat as his fingers worked the laces of her corset…

or a toothbrush. A slight dead fish odor lingers in the air, a sure sign we're getting closer to the beach. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply letting the smell remind me of back home. Most people think of the beach as a pleasant scent — and I do too — I just know where it really comes from. Living so close to the ocean from childhood makes you aware of what really goes on down there under the surf. Two black cars, one right after the other, drive past us. They slow, the passenger in the second car turning her head and staring out the window. If it wasn't obviously Pearl, I would probably be diving for the bushes.

I can feel a shiver run down my spine as I gulp. Something is weird about the atmosphere... how come everyone suddenly disappears? I slowly swallow the candy that was sitting in my mouth. It was a soft candy, so it didn't hurt my throat. Clenching the handle of my bag tightly, I try to walk as normally as I could master. *Bathump! Bathump!* Calm down... there must be a reasonable explanation why this happened, right? A shadow shape of a person appeared behind me. The more I try to walk faster, the more it follows me. Turning around to the different alleyway, I tried to lose the shadow. Since I wasn't paying attention to where I'm heading, I ended up walking to a dead end.

J Jeannine jerked from the vision, once again back on the Sultana. “You don’t remember that last bit, do you?” said Papa Nightmare. “The New York papers had a field day with the story. ‘Horror in the Stacks’ was the headline. They said they found books on New Orleans state law strewn around the remains. Which, of course, told us all who was responsible.” Papa Nightmare finally walked into Jeannine’s line of sight. “You get it now, little plaçage, don’t you?” “What . . . what am I supposed to get?”