Black Novel Novels & Stories

We never went back to normal, and honestly, none of us wanted to. That wild night changed us all. Some secrets don’t destroy you, they open doors you never knew existed. The End

Ama was contemplating an effective way to gain access to the Blackwoods mansion. Mr. Reynolds had already given her a file containing everything she needed to know about the family, and she had spent all of last night reviewing it and conducting her own research. The Blackwoods came from old money, which they gained from their construction business, and talent for creating unique art pieces. Which have aided them in their money laundering.

Dominique managed to question him despite the searing pain oozing from every pore of his skin. Dylan tsked, “So many questions. All right this time I wouldn’t disappoint you. But we will go with the second part first, hmm. Now tell me have you heard about ‘The Black’?” Dominique quirked a brow at his absurd question. Nevertheless answered. “Of course, I know. He is the psychopathic Mafia Lord of America, Leader of the Night Stalkers.” He grated out. “Ouch,” Dylan feigned a hurt expression and placed his palm over his heart.

With two claps of my hands, the lights went off and I languidly slipped under the covers and searched for the e-book version of the steamiest romance novel my mind has ever had to process. I often sought solace in the comforting umbra of these silent walls. I discovered at a very tender age that the dark is your companion when you do not want to be haunted by knowing. I did not want to know the truth, or what I feared to be the truth, so I ran into the welcoming arms of darkness and explicitly narrated sexual endeavours between a young woman and an older man who both know what kind of service their bodies need. As I scrolled through the page and allowed my imagination to take care of the res

Those books were older than any of the others in his office. The bottom shelf (the one he’d been searching when he’d first heard the cats playing in the hall) held his collection of horror anthologies. The famed Whispers series, edited by Stuart David Schiff, featuring the varied works of Ramsey Campbell, Stephen King, Charles Grant and so many others. The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror from England. The Shivers series, published by Cemetery Dance. Masques, Borderlands, Shadows, Stalkers, Dark Forces, October Dreams I & II, Corpse Blossoms, Horror Library Volumes 1-5, and Prime Evil. Classic horror anthologies jammed next to paperback collections of slightly lesser repute with titles to mat

It sounded like it belonged to someone else. I heard heavy boots coming towards me. I tried running but someone grabbed me by the arm. I twisted and pulled away, but another man blocked my path. They came from everywhere. Not the hunters. Different men. Their clothes were darker. Their eyes colder. I started crying again. “Please don’t,” I said. “Please.” A man in a black combat suit stepped forward. His boots made heavy sounds on the ground. He held something in his hand. It was red. Glowing.

I tell him. Flavius nods in response and begins to pack his things. I fill my satchel with various clothing items and few books. "Why are you packing books?" Flavius asks curiously. "Since we are visiting another horde without sending a messenger ahead, I need to bring something that will serve as a gift. Those of the Horde of Fates are known knowledge seekers. I have many books in my private collection that have not been seen since The Fires. They should serve as a suitable present," I say.

However, use of a black book usually backfi res with serious consequences. Some black books are said to be written in BLOOD as a PACT with the DEVIL. According to a German tale, a black book of unknown origin was passed down through inheritance and came into the possession of some peasants. Its magical powers were released by reading it forward and backward. If anyone failed to read the book backward, the Devil was able to take control of him or her. Once activated, the book enabled people to acquire great wealth and do terrible things to others without punishment.

And from its heart, something began to emerge — a shape woven of shadow and blood, wearing a thousand faces Kaelira once loved and lost. Her knees nearly buckled. “It’s the Echo,” she whispered. “The last remnant of the Black Moon.” It smiled — a cruel, shifting thing. You brought him here, it hissed. How generous. Another vessel to consume. Zevran didn’t flinch. “You’ll choke on me before that happens.” The battle began like a storm breaking open — lightning and steel, magic and fury. Kaelira unleashed her power, the air crackling with blue fire as runes carved themselves across her skin. Zevran moved like a phantom, every strike precise, every step anchored in the rhythm of survival.

I stood up and closed the book as I tried to explain. “I— I well, i— was just— you said I should find out!" I yelled in defense, holding up the book. Thankfully, I picked up a book called Mysteries so chances were he believed me. Nikolai pursed his lips then nodded. He walked further into the study and that was when I noticed he was in nothing but his suit jeans and his black shirt was unbuttoned. It looked like he came here in a rush. Nikolai walked up to the opposite shelf and pulled out a large black book. “Here. This contains everything about my pack. I'll get you another book on the mafia,” he said, holding the book forward. I drew my head back as I eyed the book and then him.