Books Like Shutter Island Novels & Stories

Ember I’m standing perfectly still when it hits me. A tight pressure so deep in my chest, like the ground beneath my heart just gave way. I press a hand to my sternum, breath stuttering as something dark and vast surges against the edges of my mind. Shadow, not cold, not cruel, but unleashed. Unanchored. I know it’s Orion. I’ve been holding him back Forcing everything down. Every memory, every feeling. Every instinct that wants to reach for him like a wound trying to close. But now, now something is tearing free. Stop, I think blindly, panic flaring. Please. The bond answers with a pressure so intense it steals my breath. So full of emotion. Grief sharpened into obsession, fear that has curd

The evening air was thick with unspoken words as Isla sat in the dimly lit library of the Blackwood estate. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows along the mahogany bookshelves. She had buried herself in a book, hoping that the fictional world would offer some solace from the chaos of her reality, but her mind kept drifting back to Killian. The way he had kissed her. The way he had pulled away. The way he had shattered whatever fragile understanding had begun to form between them.

She didn’t even notice when she got so cold. “I see you prefer to shop in large quantities,” Yuna looked at the stack of books with a malicious glance. “We don’t have Simmons in the store, but we have a couple of books in stock: “Prayers to the Broken Stone” and “The Fall of Hyperion.” — “Hyperion” is not particularly interesting to me, but I would buy a collection of his stories. - Okay, I’ll call tomorrow and order delivery - it’s too late today. They probably dumped everything. And I'm closing in about twenty minutes. If you don't have plans, then let's go home together.

“We have studied any recovered books or records thoroughly over the years, as we do with any new pieces that find their way to us, for the most part we all assumed that the writings in here were children’s stories, and nothing but fiction written by an imaginative soul, and that may still be the case, but now I’m not so sure.” “The book is filled with tales, short stories really, relaying the life stories of shifters who were blessed or cursed by the Moon Goddess. It really does read as fantastical ramblings rather than anything of fact. But one of the stores tells of mated shifters both cursed and blessed by the Goddess. Cursed to a lonely life, one of solitude until they meet their perfect

I lie next to her and look down into her gorgeous hazel eyes. "This may surprise you, but I've never been with any woman. Shifters aren't like humans. We're repulsed even at the thought of getting intimate with anyone who isn't our mate. What about you? How many men have you been with?" I can tell she doesn't want to say, but the answer doesn't matter. "I've been with two, but the most recent was over a year ago. I'm sorry. If I had known, I would have waited." Sherri looks like she's going to cry, but I don't want her to feel ashamed.

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.

Shelly pulled me inside, leaving Aubrey standing by the door. After going through the different sections, Shelly finally got three books that she found fascinating. I only bought one book ‘Midnight Sun’ by Trish Cook. It was released back in 2017 but Shelly told me that she never got to read it. Some of her friends did tell her though that it was a good read so I bought it. The outline was what caught my eyes. It did seem interesting. Shelly made me promise to lend her the book once I was done reading it. I promised but in return, she had to let me borrow some of the books she already had at home.

I hadn't anticipated seeing Ethan on my way out. Luckily, the window was only open a crack. I slammed it shut—sealing the past away with a single motion. My screen flashed: Ethan Black. I stared, then pressed ignore. Since they’d confiscate all devices on landing anyway, I cracked the window and let the phone slip from my hand, vanishing into the roadside grass. No trace. No tether. No return. The plane lifted through the twilight, and Manhattan dissolved into a blanket of starlight.

"What on earth happened? When the police pulled you out, you were still alive. But your parents and everyone else… were dead. They only recovered their bodies." I pinched my palm. It hurt. I was still alive. But why was I still alive? "I'm fine. I don't know how I survived. Mom, Dad, Mable, Julian, Lindsey, and Jack are all dead. But I'm still alive." If someone like me continued to live, I would only be destined for pain and agony. There would be no happiness waiting for me. "What happened to the island?" I asked. "It's been sealed off. With so many people dead, it's now a crime scene."

“GAMO (FUCK)” Slamming her book suddenly closed, Isabella can’t help but feel the need to move, an urge to burn off some of this pent up need that began to rise, a need that was slowly driving her crazy as she moves to tuck the book carefully beneath her arm before standing. Her feet now leading her over towards her bedroom door before knocking. The door slowly opening to reveal Garth and Hunter, both whom were currently standing on the other side of her door like always. “I’d like to go for a walk… Please… If only for a split second to stretch my legs?”