Best Crime Fiction Writers

Connor Greene, a golden boy in Brookhaven, is unwittingly drugged, and I end up being the cure for his "predicament". It's exactly a month later when I discover that I'm pregnant during a routine medical examination. Upon learning the news, Connor offers me 50 million dollars to carry the baby to term, and then another ten million dollars to take full custody of the child. It's then that Julie Sutton, my so-called righteous friend, persuades me to terminate the pregnancy, saying, "You ought to know that money isn't everything, Queenie. If you throw away your dignity for just 60 million dollars, then you're no better than those women who entertain men in clubs!" In my past life, I had an abortion at Julie's suggestion and pursued legal action against Connor, accusing him of assault. I later sought financial assistance and support from Julie after my parents fell gravely ill, but Julie slapped me hard across the face instead. "Your parents are seriously ill, and instead of figuring things out on your own, you come running to me, huh? You're truly shameless, Queenie!" Julie broke off our friendship right then, and I also lost the lawsuit against Connor. I couldn't afford the treatment, so my parents' lives were cut short by their illnesses. In the end, the grief of losing them was too much, so I decided to take my own life by jumping off a rooftop. When I open my eyes, I find myself returning to the day Julie tried to persuade me to get an abortion.

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

They're said to be the spirits of unearthly beautiful women. So beautiful, the men who get a sight of them fall in love and die. So beautiful, women get insane and commit suicide, unable to comprehend the existence of women so celestial. Their voices pour like honey in your ears, leading you to your doom. Their dance is a blessing for your eyes and is the last thing you will see. All places and characters in the story are pure fiction, work of the author. Any resemblance to real places and events is a strong coincidence. One thing is not fiction, though. Beware of the woods the next time you go. If you hear the melodic laughter and the tender singing somewhere far in the distance, hidden in the darkness of the night, know to run. Leave immediately, or know you'll be their next victim.

Special Agent Shirley, along with her partner Ackermann had been following this psychotic serial killer who called himself “ANGEL OF DEATH” for the crimes that he had continually committed over a period of about eight years. The two were the best in the entire police force, yet the so called angel of death outsmarted them like it was nothing. And they didn’t know how he did it, because he left no clues and he never made mistakes. After years of clueless investigations, they finally got their hands a video footage that showed him fleeing a crime scene. The video that was supposed to be the answer to all their unanswered questions, was rather a door that let in a million more.

Rashel, an overly supportive wife and Luna to Alpha Seth, who helped her husband build his pack to become the envy of all, thought her life was finally about to take the best turn she had always hoped for. But nothing prepared her for the fall from grace to grass fate had for her. It is tradition that any Alpha without an heir at age 35 would lose his pack to the next best contender. And in this case, Alpha Seth's younger brother, who was an archenemy, was the next best available contender, and he was willing to do just anything to make sure his brother, Seth, lost the pack to him. Disgraced and forced out of her pack after her husband found out he had a second fated mate, Rashel left with the one thing Seth needed to retain his pack – Her pregnancy. She was given a second fated mate, who turned out to be the Alpha King, Jethro. The one man who held the entire werewolf nation in his palm. Rashel thought that life had given her and her baby a second chance, since Alpha Jethro loved her to the moon and back. But what she didn't know was that her misery had only just begun, because not only did Seth regret letting her go, but now he desperately needed her and his child—the heir to his pack—back in his life. But this would be over Alpha Jethro's dead body. Rashel is caught in the middle of an impending war between the man she once loved and the man with whom she gradually built a new life. Now, she has to find out where her heart truly lies and whom she wants to spend the rest of her life with.

My best friend and I had been abducted by the Pendragon brothers—a duo consisting of a religious CEO and a top-billed movie star. We became their secret lovers against our will. "I'm pregnant, Lilith," my best friend said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Me too, Lindsay," I replied softly, caressing my belly. "But I won't go through with it." The brothers heard us. Their control tightened. They watched us during mealtimes, while we slept, and even during our bathroom breaks. We could not endure it any longer, so we fought back. In their anger, the brothers kept mistresses who resembled us. We thought we were free until one day, they found us. They called us homewreckers and hurled insults at us. They broke into our house, scarred our faces, broke our legs, and kicked us until we miscarried. It did not matter how much we tried to explain ourselves. They removed our clothes and paraded us in the street. Finally, the Pendragons arrived. They raised their marriage certificates and declared, "Lilith and Lindsay are our wives!"

On the day I won the national esports championship, my girlfriend of eight years told me she wanted to go on stage and personally present me with flowers. Standing on the podium, my heart was racing. I reached into my pocket to pull out the ring I'd hidden there, ready to propose to her in front of the entire nation. But what happened next shocked me. She giggled and, instead of handing me the bouquet, she gave it to her male best friend. Under the bright lights, they became the center of attention. The crowd cheered, and their congratulatory messages flooded the trending topics. Even his fans tagged me in posts, mocking, [I told you not to get in the way of our couple, now look at you.] I simply posted on Twitter, [Respect and blessings. Please be locked together forever.]

In high school, I had finally worked up the courage to confess my feelings to my longtime crush. The next day, he disappeared from my life without a word. Heartbroken and furious, I moved on and started dating someone else, leaving him behind in my memories. Years passed, and I thought I had buried that part of my life. But ten years later, fate threw us back together—this time, he was my new boss. Not just any boss, but my boss’ boss. I had no idea how to face him, but one thing was clear: resigning suddenly felt like my best option.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I planned a surprise for him. I hid in his studio. Instead, I found him inviting a university student to pose as his model. As she peeled away layers of clothing, his eyes lit up. "Exquisite. Truly exquisite. It's been ten years—and this is the first time I've seen true beauty," he said. Then he lunged forward, capturing her in a passionate kiss. My nails dug into my palm, hard enough to draw blood, but I stayed silent. For ten years, I had walked behind him, always in his shadow. I was tired.

My boyfriend is a forensic artist. He was forced to make a harrowing decision to save his first love. At the killer's demand, he created a portrait from a photo—he never realized that the young girl in the photo was me in my childhood. Two weeks later, the police investigate a grisly bomb explosion and dismemberment case. The victim's identity was unrecognizable, and the investigation dragged on for days as the authorities desperately searched the blast site, looking for my remains. After three days and nights, they finally recovered enough of my remains to reconstruct my face. When my boyfriend unknowingly brought the shattered fragments back to life with his art, he was confronted with a horrifying truth—one that drove him to the edge of madness.