Best Thriller Fiction Books Novels & Stories

The silence pressed down on his nerves, but he remained focused, taking in every movement of the guards, every flicker of light. Finally, the engine started, and the car pulled away slowly, away from the villa, leaving behind the oppressive night, the rebellious shadows, and the silence that seemed to remind him that the villa had not yet revealed all its secrets. — Night Sobhi, the truck driver, sat in a chair in the living room, surrounded by the dim light filtering from a single lamp, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The air in the room felt heavy, as if the night itself had pressed down on his chest, broken only by the gurgle of wine being poured into a glass. Sobhi sighed slowly, h

"Exciting." Frowning, I clasp my hands together in front of me. Using his index finger, he wiggles a book out of its spot, with some difficulty. It looks as though the covers are stuck together, with suggests this library is old; probably older than me. "Action? Thriller?" I question. Those kinds of books that get your heart racing are my favourite. They draw you straight of reality, lulling you into a dream-like state where my imagination can run rampant, with no one to tell me otherwise. Moments to live for, in my eyes. If Malik felt the same way, he must understand why I had to leave my room to find something better than a nonfiction book on the Love pack.

Thank you for reading The Beta and the Jewel Thief - Book 6 of the Delta's Daughter series. I would like to kindly ask you all to leave me a review on the about book page. This helps me as an author and my stories get noticed on the app. Just a few words and a great rating would be appreciated. Now I know I left this book with another cliffhanger... You still love me I know it. ;) I also know there are a few questions. Not everything could be explained, the story had well superseded any of the other books in regards to word count.

Crime? In his case crime really did pay it would seem. Everything about him screamed money. It was so different to me. He was so different to me and maybe that’s why I was so attracted to him. Not for his money but because like he had said he was so darkly dangerous. Even dressed casually like he was, it poured off of him in waves.

His head was buried in a thick novel, but at her sight, he instantly hid the novel behind—a novel an 11-year-old boy shouldn't be reading. It was r rated, not because it was erotica or anything. But because it was a disturbing psychopath thriller book with torture and the deaths of people written in detail. It revolves around a psychopath who derives pleasure from torturing his fellow humans’ beings. He killed for fun on days he was tired, raped both women and men on days he felt sexually excited, and kidnapped human beings then cut their bodies piece by piece until they bled to death. Recording all his evil deeds and posting them for the whole world to see. But don’t worry, there was a hero

I still thought of Lyndon’s words about the prior murder case in Argao because I was there. I AM CURRENTLY reading CareLikeGoldFish’s work. The book is a mystery-thriller and even without romance, I couldn’t stop reading it whole because the scenes are so familiar, it’s like I’ve seen them before. Just like the scene where the main character shot his friend. It’s the same as what I saw there in Boljoon two months ago.

Gregory woke with a dry mouth and a sour taste in his throat. His head felt like it was filled with glass and regret. He pushed himself upright on the thin mattress and cursed under his breath. The safehouse had two rooms, one table, three mismatched chairs, and a window that looked out onto a narrow alley. It was ugly, and it smelled like old smoke and damp clothes. It was exactly the kind of place a man on the run should hate but accept.

"Wrong apartment." He looked at Lin. Looked at me. Smiled. "Unless," he said, "this is the right one. Unless you're the ones looking for this." He held up a book. Red leather. Tattered. The notebook. Lin moved first. Fast. Not blind at all. She grabbed the kettle. Threw it. Scalding water hit his face. He screamed. Dropped the book. I caught it. Ran. Down the hall. Bathroom. Locked the door.

Damn it, this wasn't an action movie. I growled at something very rude, fasted my M19 harder, and sprinted down the sidewalk on this side of the street. I never let our prey out of my sight for a moment. It was almost like a slalom. Again and again I had to avoid people and then I almost ran into a shelter. There was room for a handful of people in these small buildings. If you had to get to safety from a prole, you could run in there, seal the room and call the venators from inside via an emergency column.

“Now you’ve got me intrigued.” My lips curved faintly. “Intrigued?” “How does a thief know how to navigate corporate negotiations and contract presentations?” I let out a quiet laugh. “Just because I’m a thief doesn’t mean I’m dumb.” I continued, “If anything, thieves are some of the smartest people alive.” That earned a quiet laugh from him, low and unexpected. “Is that so?” “Of course,” I replied. “You think stealing is easy? One wrong move and everything falls apart. You learn to think ahead and read people before they read you.”