Crime Thriller Books Novels & Stories

He obviously loved thrillers as most of the books were made up with novels by Ian Fleming, Desmond Bagley, Hammond Innes, Ian Rankin, Michael Robotham and Alistair MacLean. My mobile sounded and I moved out on to the landing. Caller ID: Kimberley. “Hello, darling,” I said into the phone. “I need a drink,” she explained. “Bad morning?” “Ever since that break-in you investigated, Bio-Preparations insist on having an audit every month,” she said breathlessly. “Why have they got to have it on a bloody Saturday?” “You poor thing,” I said soothingly, feeling partially responsible. “So how about the Waggoner’s Rest?” She persisted. “I’ve just arrived back at the quay.”

I reassured myself while sitting. Most times, I wonder how unfair life is to most people. I mean, people work their butts hard, so many do a whole lot to make sure they feed. And a criminal gets to the extent of killing, taking another life the same life they can't create. If Kelvin had been killed that day, it would be a totally different case, linked to the murder that had been happening to different police officers dated back to 2012, that was three years ago. People were so brutal, especially criminals. They were so dangerous, most importantly, they can't even be predicted.

🥀 SWEETHEARTS IN CRIME🖤 (He's A Dangerous Mafia🔞_She's A Slût👠) Chapter 3 The rate at which her heart beat pounded was so violently she had to gnash her teeth. Melanie held her breath trying her possible best not to breath in the toxic air All her life she'd never think she'll end up like this. It just a day, not even up to a day since he brought her but. He's threatening her!

I left Aaron for the meantime on the part where the fountain pens are to go to the novel section. Since I saw Sophie Lark's Brutal Prince on TikTok's recommendation, people who have read this say that it has a strong female lead. I enjoy books of that genre, therefore I may be interested in reading it. I looked at the shelves. I also picked up a book and read the synopsis on the back when Aaron came to me here. "You like reading books?" he asked. I turned my eyes on him, "Uh, sometimes. If I'm interested in the plot," I answered.

But that didn't mean I couldn't at least try to help her. “I know,” I heaved. “She'll work any other case, Boss... just not cases like these.” Just not rape and trafficking cases. I could feel anxiety swimming through my body, as Rafael's eyes bored into mine, burning me with an intense gaze. There was so much tension in the air, that you could cut it with a knife. “Fine,” he muttered finally. “I'll talk to her.”

I know exactly the one he read through. "You do read a lot...." He said afterwards. "F**k, that was some positions we did already" he added and I instantly flushed. F**k he got me there. He place the books on top of the other piles on my table. "You do realise I read all the book you read." My eyes widen at his words. How can the mafia Don have time to read. "Clichés but I was interested to know what my woman invest most of her time in."

"How could you even think that about me? Yeah, I survived, but I was a victim, too. And now, just because of one photo, you're calling me a killer? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" I swallowed hard, my voice breaking. "I said I probably fell asleep around 10 PM. I never said I was sure. My head was spinning from the altitude, and I wasn't clear. And come on—I'm just one woman. How the heck could I take out five grown men?" Alex's stare locked onto my face. "Yeah… doesn't seem likely." Just then, the coroner walked in with a fresh report, the pages still smelling like ink. He handed it straight to Alex.

While I am waiting, I pick up the book by his bedside and read the title, ‘Six of Crows’, I turn it around to read the blurb, it was about six thieves trying to pull off an impossible heist to save their country. The book seemed like a very interesting read, maybe after Blake was done with the book, I could read after him. In the meantime, I bring out my phone and I open the app I have for books. I go the book I am currently reading, it is murder mystery/ thriller, titled ‘As good as dead’ and it is very interesting and intriguing.

I beamed. "Crazy, isn't it?" "Fucking crazy, for real." "First, we put THE DA VINCI CODE by DAN BROWN here." He picked out the book and inserted it in the center line of the shelf. He put HOW TO STOP TIME by MATT HAIG, followed by EVERGREEN by NAOMI HIRAHARA. "Then KISS THE GIRLS by JAMES PATTERSON." He put it next to the first book. "I've read that." I went on in a spur of excitement. "It's a thriller and mystery novel about a detective who's trying to track down a serial killer. So many twists and cliffhangers. Total page-turner." I giggled.

Pages that smelled of grafIte, of stolen hours under candlelIght. They couldn’t stay. Not here. Not now. Matteo’s orders meant danger. Maxwell near meant rIsk. If eIther found these, It’d be over. My gaze darted around. Where? Where could I put them? Not downstairs—too vIsIble. Not guest rooms—he’d search there. Not the maIds’ quarters—everyone policed each other. BurnIng wasn’t an optIon. They were breath, they were memory, they were me.