Books About The Ocean Fiction Novels & Stories

Nix said to the baby once the portal closed. The Ocean God: He hadn’t been on land since the time he had to search for his mate, only to find her dead body holding their little princess Oceanna. Now he has been on the surface more then once, in order to find the book that would save his daughter. He will not let her die, he promised his mate that he would love and protect her, and he would not break that promise. He swam towards the mediterranean sea, he had been searching several different places in hopes of finding the book he needed. Everywhere he searched had come up with nothing; where he was going now had to be the place where the book is buried.

Since it was dark, the ocean had transformed into an inky abyss, the moon’s reflection painting a silvery path on the surface. The shallow waters were a breathtaking turquoise that faded to the palest aquamarine near the beach. It was a stark and vivid contrast to the deep, darker hues not 20 meters out. Giant waves crashed with thunderous force against the rocks, sending plumes of white spray high into the air. Then a vast mirror-like calmness suddenly enveloped the ocean, creating an illusion of stillness that seemed to stretch into eternity. A dense, ethereal mist rolled in from the ocean, obscuring the view beyond the shoreline. It was as if the world was veiled in a dreamscape, where re

Her heart was still racing. She had been dreaming again. It had started with water. It always did. This time, the ocean stretched endlessly in every direction, thick and dark, its surface broken only by bodies. Wolves. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Some wore armor. Some wore nothing at all. They sank slowly, eyes open, mouths moving as if trying to speak. Moonlight poured down from above, sharp and merciless, pinning them in place. They did not struggle. They drowned quietly. Then a voice cut through the water.

Neither pulled away. Lunch was simple, fresh fruit, bread, cheese, olives. They ate on the shaded lower deck, legs stretched out on the cushioned bench. He asked about the book she had been pretending to read for weeks. “It’s about a woman who leaves everything behind,” she said. “She walks into the sea and disappears.” He looked at her. “Does she come back?” Elena shrugged. “The book ends before we find out.” He smiled. “I hate books that do that.”

It said he cares nothing about the lives of his subjects, or anyone else in the world, that he is evil through and through. If all that is true, he will certainly have no mercy for a poor Forest Kingdom woman sneaking over his border. I try to forget about it as we continue, though my hands still shake. Somehow, we make it past the Oceana soldiers and out to the coast. I freeze in stunned silence when we first reach the ocean. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Bright blue water stretches into the horizon without a speck of land to be seen. I’ve never looked so far at anything. Its waves crash violently against the sharp rocks we’re climbing on, and I’m terrified of falling in.

He seemed lighter here, as if the sound of the waves could silence some of the demons he still carried. I wrote every morning on the wide veranda, my laptop on the rustic wooden table, the light breeze messing up my hair. My third book was taking shape — a story about survival, unconventional love, and the price of freedom. There was something in the salt air, in the rhythm of the waves, that released words the city kept trapped. It was in the second week that the cracks began to appear. The tension started with something seemingly simple: Matthew wanted to go to a beach party with a group of local teenagers he had met during his surfing sessions.

Robert Blackwell promised to marry me, then postponed it thirty-eight times. The fifth time, a car crash broke eight of his ribs, and I signed seven critical-condition notices. The tenth time, on the way to get our marriage license, he and the car were thrown into the sea, and his suit was torn apart by sharks. By the thirty-eighth time, his heart disease had worsened and his life was hanging by a thread. Eight months pregnant, I changed flights three times and flew twenty-three hours across half the world to find him. When the door opened, a little boy who looked exactly like him lifted his face and said, "I thought Mom was back." Robert rushed out barefoot, panic written all over his

She touched the glowing mark above her heart. “You still do not understand what the crowns are.” Cassian looked toward the fortress. “Locks.” “More than locks.” She turned to the armies. “The creature below was not imprisoned by kings.” Grandmother’s face tightened. The child looked at her. “It was imprisoned by the sea.” White water rose around her ankles. “The first ocean was once alive in every tide, river, and living body.” The blue sphere behind her widened. Inside it, images formed. An endless ocean with no land.

She gasped at the enormous size of the place she was. She saw many items in there but one thing caught her sight. It was a shelf of books. Reading was one of Oceana's favourite thing, and seeing a secret mini library in this tunnel made her happy that she forgot about the sword that was taken away from her by deceit. She walked closer to the library and saw a book CREED OF STORIES UNTOLD. She grabbed the book, and a creeking sound was heard. Soon, the shelf divided into two and she saw a large glass tube. She walked inside and noticed that the glass tube contained a dagger.

"When you look out to sea, you'll notice the horizon is hemmed in sardine-silver. The distant waves resemble white creases and both rhythmic and mesmerizing." "The sea's pulsing heart causes a gentle swell, and the waves crashing against the shore have that ancient alchemy of purr-and-pound.. It's as if an old vellum parchment is unrolling in front of your eyes as they uncoil. If you could read the script, it would probably repeat the same two words over and over again: never leave. Your gaze is drawn to a small dot in the sky that is getting closer. It's a gannet, plump from stealing fish from the sea's trough.. As he approaches the frame, he emits a call that echoes the alien emptiness of