Best Mystery Series Books Novels & Stories

Shrewsbury The Third Twin: A Dark Psychological Thriller by Darren Speegle Aletheia: A Supernatural Thriller by J.S. Breukelaar Where the Dead Go to Die by Mark Allan Gunnells and Aaron Dries Sarah Killian: Serial Killer (For Hire!) by Mark Sheldon The Final Cut by Jasper Bark Blackwater Val by William Gorman Pretty Little Dead Girls: A Novel of Murder and Whimsy by Mercedes M. Yardley Nameless: The Darkness Comes by Mercedes M. Yardley

“That’s what have been thinking of the case, it could be a beast he created or something worse, that might end up killing every being in this city. And we need to stop it before it completely destroys us.” He was facing the wall, his hands crossed at his back. Staring at the hair at intervals. Could it be a sign or something. What or who was held in here? That he had to look into. And find out everything he had to know about Lucas and his missing assistant. Anika. The paranormal researcher could obviously be something else. And all that he has to find out.... “And one more thing, Detective.” Detective Sean turned to him, giving him his full attention.

His life, freedom, and family came first. Before he abandoned his car, he decided to look at Layla’s journal more closely. He hoped there was a clue as to where she went. He had been shocked when he had come home unexpectedly to see that his marriage had unraveled. But, after examining Layla’s diary, he was awestruck. It read like a twisted mystery thriller, featuring a criminal, himself, and – an FBI agent who had been screwing his wife.

Again, this is book one in the series The Blessed Ones. If you’re a fan of spicy romances with alpha males and basically anything Mafia-related, go for PRECARIOUS: THE GAME OF HEARTS, which is the first in the Castello Di Carte Mafia Chronicles. This would be my best work and I’m currently working on publishing this book digitally by the end of next year. Fingers crossed. I’m currently writing book 2 of the series and let me warn you, this series is super hot and suspenseful. Anyway, if you want to keep updated with my works, you can follow me on I* at author_shreyasengupta .

The teacher scolds us both, but all I can hear and see is his smile. He fixed me, he’s my serotonin, my very own drug. My feeling for him feels illegal, but he’ll still be my favorite crime. “Mr. Alex Sheperd and Mr. Conan Gray, this is not the time for chit chatting, now answer my question or you’ll meet the principal. “ We faced each other with a smile on our faces. We grabbed our bags and willingly took our punishment. This shocked our professor as he stopped talking until we left the room. We didn’t answer his question, it’s not like we could answer it anyway.

Just like she read her horoscope every day and then later interpreted everything so that her day exactly matched it. All humbug. Shaking my head, I left the room, picked up a few more towels from the closet in the hallway and then disappeared into the bathroom with everything to just let this stressful day disappear with the water in the drain. Unfortunately that was easier said than done, because when I started to relax in complete calm under the hot water jet, the pictures of the day came back to me one more time. As soon as I closed my eyes for even a moment, I saw the gun of this handsome boy in front of my nose again and wondered if he had really shot. Was that the criminal Reese and hi

But considering the action LIGHTS had taken recently against his kind, he would find a way to accomplish the task at hand. His eyes flickered back to the ancient book in front of him. Handwritten and hand bound, it was older than any volume he’d ever held before. As far as he knew, there were only two others like it in the world. One was with the doctor who’d contacted him somewhere in Eastern Europe, though he didn’t know where. The other was allegedly in the archives the LIGHTS team housed in Kansas City. If they were even aware of the legends it held, he doubted they’d think to access it for something as simple as an Eidolon Festival. Sure, the evening news would remind everyone that the

And whoever had orchestrated it had deep connections. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he pulled up flagged metadata and message threads from anonymous sources. “Come on…” he muttered. A pattern was starting to emerge—anonymous email accounts, burner numbers, digital fingerprints buried under layers of redirection. Then, a name popped up on his screen. Not the puppet, but the puppeteer. “Son of a bitch,” Daniel breathed, eyes narrowing. It was someone who had been close to the Westwoods once—trusted, even. Someone with motive. Someone with access.

She had to travel light after the Federal Reserve hit. Margo got off the elevator in Bruce’s apartment building. The poor thing had been working overtime for weeks, trying to figure out who robbed SunBeam Savings and Loan. He and Alec were also working on two other cases. Bruce couldn’t tell her too much about them because they were classified. But from what she gathered, the FBI was still stumped concerning the bank robbery.