Best Humorous Mystery Books Novels & Stories

I observed the worn cover, indicating he read that book frequently. "The Divine Comedy?" I handed the book back to him. "It's a classic, one of my favorite books," Matteo smiled, turning the book in his hands. "Your favorite book is about a detailed description of hell..." I raised both eyebrows, staring at him. I would never have guessed he was reading something like that! "I know it sounds silly, but..." "No... it's not silly! Maybe a little scary, but not silly," I immediately interjected, not allowing him to finish the sentence. "I like detective suspense."

“Says the man who used an annotated memoir on territorial legislation as bedtime reading.” He leaned back, that amused tilt softening the sharp lines of his jaw. “That was strategy.” “No, that was masochism. At least my books have characters who feel things.” “Like talking ravens and ravishing maidens.” I cracked a smile before I could stop it. “As opposed to your gripping tale of Pack finance reforms in 1997?” “Historic. Influential.” “Boring.” We were both laughing now, genuinely, fully, that kind of surprised laughter that bubbles up when you were least expecting it. It felt warm, stupid, a little reckless. I hadn’t laughed like that in… gods, I didn’t know how long.

“You mean after we got past the pubescent teenage boy proposition about Tarzan and Jane Porter in their loincloth jungle wear? Or after the second round proposal about John Carter of Mars and Princess Dejah Thoris of Barsoom, who spends her time in the books nearly entirely naked? Well, then I only had to contend with one last suggestion about Irene Adler because nothing says Halloween like a physically attractive, ethically unreliable, cold and manipulative female foil to Sherlock Holmes.” Lily’s head tipped back and she roared with laughter, clutching her stomach against the stitch in her side. “In all the years we watched him glaring at the lift’s floor indicator in the Trust's lobby and

‘What book is it? ‘Hangover Abbey or something.’ ‘Not Northanger Abbey ? Jane Austen?’ She nodded. ‘About some stupid girl who thinks somebody’s murdered somebody or something and makes a complete prat of herself.’ Bells were ringing like mad in Claudia’s head. ‘I had to do that at school too.’ Anoushka folded her arms. ‘And I suppose you’re going to tell me you liked it.’ Claudia felt a pang of sympathy for poor old Sister Bernadette, who’d tried so hard to make them all enthusiastic about literature - ‘It’s really terribly amusing, girls, if you can just get over these silly prejudices about nineteenth- century language.*

I was delighted to uncover new layers beneath this prickly barista's tough exterior. "So mysteries are your favorite books? Any current authors you'd recommend?" I asked, genuinely curious to know more about her tastes. Aria's eyes lit up, clearly passionate about this topic. "Oh yes! I just finished a great atmospheric thriller by Ruth Ware. And Jean Kwok writes amazing psychological suspense." I smiled as she rattled off a whole list of mystery writers and descriptors for why she loved them. Her enthusiasm was captivating. "I may have to check out some of those. I tend toward action thrillers, but I'm open to new things," I said.

But I continued to do so, couldn't think of embracing the silence that only cause me a weird stuff to fill the gap of my emptiness. Surely, I was confuse, not able to tell a horror from mystery. But I proceed with uttered cautious. And I was shivered to the coldness brought upon entering. My body was freezing and I couldn't wrapped my mind to how it even possible. “Was this books has to be preserve this way?” my abrupt thought together with a slight cough. It supposed to be a joke but then a heavy of a sighed heard behind me. It was accompanied with a words from a husky voice that I found familiar. “So you think that way too?”

Back at her desk Detective Sparks was faced with another dilemma. The journal used a pass code instead of a key and she was sure she was about to face the same dilemma as she had with the phone and was still facing there in fact. She sat behind her desk turning the thin volume over and over in her hand while officer Bailey did some follow up calls. They were still trying to pin down the distributor of the dummy clown which she'd been surprised to learn was a more common product than she'd thought.

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

she gasped, eyes popping out with a twinkle of relief "You found me.That was quick." Hie guys kindly check out my other book here on goodnovel titled A BLOODSTAINED I DO. The book is a romantic suspence thriller i hope that makes sense haha. It speaks of two friends who fooled an 'innocent' blind girl into marrying an assassin but it seems she just might just be the the one fooling all of them. A tale of massive twists and turns and its COMPLETE. Do check it out you wont regret! Leave a review too! Much love

I take one last look at myself until I strike a pose and say,"Perfect," I hear mom from downstairs telling me to hurry up, so I grab my book bag and put on my glasses and was about to leave my room until I remember my most important thing. I go to my book-shelf and pull out a book that reads, Gone Girl by Giliian Flynn on the front cover. I've always loved mysteries; I can't remember one day where I wasn't watching Criminal Minds or Goosebumps in my room.