Black Authors Fiction Novels & Stories

I hated how steadying it felt. I stepped back before I could think too hard about that. "Just — explain. You said you'd seen this before. What did you mean?" "There's a novel," he said. "About a wolf warrior who enrolls at an academy and starts shifting into a black wolf instead of the rare white wolf she was born with. No one can explain it. Not at first." My pulse spiked. "Who wrote it?" "Sophie Miller, I think." The name hit me like a blow to the chest. The world tilted, sound rushing out of my ears until all I could hear was my own heartbeat, deafening.

Olson Embers: A Collection of Dark Fiction by Kenneth W. Cain Visions of the Mutant Rain Forest, by Bruce Boston and Robert Frazier Tribulations by Richard Thomas Eidolon Avenue: The First Feast by Jonathan Winn Flowers in a Dumpster by Mark Allan Gunnells The Dark at the End of the Tunnel by Taylor Grant Through a Mirror, Darkly by Kevin Lucia Things Slip Through by Kevin Lucia Where You Live by Gary McMahon Tricks, Mischief and Mayhem by Daniel I. Russell

I held back a laugh at his mocking tone and returned my gaze to Blackthorn. “Did your Beta catch you up now?” he said sarcastically, and I held back from rolling my eyes at his condescending tone. “Yes, thank you,” I replied with the same level of sarcasm. “So this supernatural is releasing information how, again?” I asked. “In the form of fiction books,” Blackthorn snapped. “Well, if the books are marked as fiction, then why is it an issue? I mean, it’s not like the other tripe that is out there is causing us any harm,”

cole, a writer who committed suicide the next day. "I am a small writer. But I got fascinated by this book. It made me search for it. I scoured for this book so that I can have it, but it had been lost for decades. Somehow, I came to know about a village where everything started. The 'Blackhound village.'

Dad grabbed the nurse, throwing her out of the room alongside himself. "Well-done, Emily, you have accomplished your mission." A sinister scent emerged, a wicked laugh echoing across the room. The once blue sky was now a mixture of black and white with the moon reflecting its radiant image. Wails filled the air as a ray of light fell from the sky, hitting a mountain on the other side of town. I groaned, wincing as my hand was scorched by the flaming book. The pages settled, words in red appearing on the pages. "Strigoi, Nosferatu, Jiangshi…"

They'd read 9 Lives, 10 Circles, and been tested on it. He wished he had a copy right now. It was a fiction book about one tom's attempt to gain an audience with the Black Devil. It read like a tour guide of the Underworld, down to the minutest detail, when it didn't go into the scratchings of the main character's slowly twisting mind.

She stopped the song and opened a reading and writing app on her phone. All of the books she wrote there were all inspired by Tayo but she didn’t know if she could continue writing the books. She checked the poetry, it was already having many reads. The only person she wanted to show the books wasn't there anymore, he took all the inspiration to write with him. She decided to delete the books which she did in less than two minutes, then she uninstalled the app. "There's no more Tayo, Wunmi.” She reminded herself as she was having second thoughts on deleting the book. *I damn hate this feeling, why did I ever allow myself to love a guy?* She thought to herself as she kept her phone in her sch

I look forward to being a well known writer like, Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie, the late legend; Chinua Achebe, Nnedi Okorafor, Wole Soyinka, Colleen Hoover, Ted dekker, Sidney sheldon, Dean Koontz and so many others. I don't think I have ever seen anyone who reads wild like I do. My love for books is out of this world, I just purely love good books, like really really good books with awesome plots. I can't be spotted anywhere without holding a novel. I was about to read one, 'Home coming' by Yaa Gyasi.

"Yes he has, Ibekwe. Be strong and have faith." James shuffled towards the door. "James!" "Yes, Ibekwe." "What will you call your new book?" "I thought of a simple but strong name. I will call it: Shading Black: The trilogy of an African village. The name fits it." "James!" Ibekwe called again. "Yes, Ibekwe." "The name of your book is perfect. Thank you for everything." James kept quiet. He raised his hands and wiped the tears in his eyes. "Goodbye, Ibekwe," he said.

Sabeerah brought them out one by one. Muslim Girl and If I Speak by Umm Zakiyyah, The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides, Three Daughters Of Eve by Elif Shafak, On Black Sister's Street by Chika Unigwe, And Then There Was None by Agatha Christie, A Time To Kill by John Grisham and finally, A History Of The Wives Of Prophet Muhammad by Umam Kahn. She picked up the last book which was actually a journal and tucked in its side were plack pencils with bookish scribbles on them.