Conspiracy Novel Novels & Stories

“Since we have destroyed Azba, I have no urgent need of him. No large band will appear now till the first grass.” “Is Azba cut to pieces then?” inquired Novoveski. “So cut up that I do not know if twenty-five men escaped; and even those will be caught one by one, if Mellehov has not caught them already.” “I am terribly glad of this,” said Novoveski, “for now it will be possible to go to Rasrkoff? In safety,” here he turned to Basira: “We can take to Sir Rushet the letters which her grace, our benefactress, has mentioned.”

She wouldn’t even entertain the chance to think about being near them. She quickly checked the messages on the phone, said goodbye to Mathew and Mike, again and turned it off. She pulled a book out of her purse and she didn't even notice when they took off. "What are you reading, if I may ask, ma’am?" Her companion's voice snapped her out from her ‘literature land’. She looked at him from behind the glasses. “A novel.” She replied but realized that she was being rude. "A book written by a well-known American adventure writer, Clive Cussler." She said in a slightly more pleasant tone.

Lately, if she saw him twice a week, it was a lot. “So, how are things at work? They seem to keep you busy lately.” She asked him, trying to dig a bit. He looked at her and shrugged, “I’ve been approaching e-novel authors for the next big thing. From what I can see, there is an abundance of untapped talent out there and e-novel websites are the only way for them to get their stories out into the world. They have given me 4 months to land a best-seller.”

For the first time, Cathedra had someone who didn't cringe every time she opened her mouth to speak. So this is what having a friend feels like, huh? Cathedra thought to herself. One lunch break, while waiting for Diane underneath the tree, Cathedra was scribbling a draft of her first novel in her notebook. The novel contained the scenes she saw in the storybook, back in her kindergarten days. Since that day at kindergarten, she didn't tell anyone what she saw in the storybooks anymore. The thought of seeing things that other people couldn't still terrified her but she tried hard not to think about it by avoiding any book she can see other than school books and textbooks.

“Yes, those who fired were two, but those who planned it were many more. None were caught, and neither will they. They are all already dead.” “And Lee Oswald was innocent then?” Mark asked again. “That person you name I imagine was the one who appeared on the news as the culprit, right? Well, it was another victim.” “Damn!” Doris exclaimed, shocked by the revelation, and immediately realized what she had said when everyone turned to see her, especially Joseph. “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that, but I'm stunned by what I just heard.” “Who would have thought it!” Mark still wasn't out of his astonishment. “So the conspiracy theories were true ...”

Hidden from view was a small cardboard box, carefully positioned to avoid detection. Ivy's gaze darted to the door, then back to the box, the pacing of her heart increasing with each passing second. Without further hesitation, she lifted the lid, revealing a stack of files and documents neatly arranged within. Her eyes scanned the contents, racing through page after page of a proposed business contract worth billions of dollars which she had never seen before. The Querétaro City Project: A massive development endeavor spanning luxury resorts, commercial complexes and residential towers.

Auxel, who was closest to the chair, immediately opened the goodie bag, and took out two books that were quite thick. As he flipped through the book, he saw the title of a novel that had made his travel across America just to get it. "Crazy!" the man said involuntarily. Brandon immediately picked up the book, and his eyes opened wide. "Axel, where did you get this novel?" "It's no longer in production because Little White Rose is on hiatus. In fact, we read this novel in turn from the community we joined." Axel didn't answer immediately, he chose to enjoy the taste of caramel macchiato that always made him happy.

Now that I’d mostly learned how to translate his crappy handwriting, I was able to slowly pick my way through it. The first page described him… Writing a book? My gaze jerked back to the spare room and then dipped back to the journal to keep reading. The next few pages were about his pack buddies and his family. He seemed close to them. Then his book was mentioned again. Insurrection. I dropped the journal again, and crossed the hallway yet another time, stopping in front of the bookshelf. My eyes scanned the many, many books, until… Insurrection. Bingo. I grabbed the paperback off the shelf, and my eyes scanned the cover. It had a snake and a skull and looked kind of epic, definitely someth

The one that starts at my face and works outward and has never once been only about the baby even when we were both pretending it was. "Coffee," he says. Decaf, already made. I take it. "Rosamund?" I ask. "Not yet," he says. "Forty minutes." I look at the counter. The news alert from last night has become twelve news alerts. The story picked up overnight. Human media running with "supernatural conspiracy" in the way human media runs with things that are strange enough to generate clicks without being specific enough to require verification. Our names are not in it yet.