Fantasy Humor Books Novels & Stories

To distract myself I grabbed a stack of books i had gotten from Zoya. I settled on the bed, curling up with the first book. It was a fantasy novel about a brave healer and her quest to save a cursed kingdom. I couldn’t help but smile at the irony but as I turned the pages, I found myself getting invested. The healer’s struggles, her triumphs and her quiet strength it all resonated with me. Just as the story began to pull me in, a knock sounded at the door. Before I could respond, it opened and my three mates walked in. I let out a quick breath because what in beautiful world are these creatures from? I’m always blown by their presence.

“Is that a challenge, baby?” Amara looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his as she tilted her head. “Do you take it as one?” Rhys walked behind her, his chest touching her back as he raised his hand and ran his fingers over the several books on the shelf above. Eyes sharp and amused. Amara was almost pressed between him and the book rack, heart in her mouth and legs clenching. She knew he was doing it on purpose. “You like fantasy, more like magic and knights.” He pulled out one book, a thick book with a light brown cover with images of a knight and a woman. He tilted his head. “Never grasped what’s so good about this one though.”

Birds’ chirpings meet my ears along with winds whispering through the light, flowery curtains, a figure standing tall beside the king-sized bed. I turn to my side to behold the redhead who has a facial appearance that is quite far from normal. I do not know how he knows that I am awake and thinking of the old man all these while. He may have missed the part where the only detail I know about Xaulfur is his half-Asian, half-Australian insane nature, and this person by my side does not look Asian at all.

Flipping the page over, I read a few more lines. The book was quite intriguing. But after a few pages, it was slipping out of reality and going through some non realistic stories. By the time I read my third fairytale story about a fairly young woman getting lost at sea and ended up falling in live with a beast that lived beyond the lands of the five Kingdoms, I softly closed the book and let out a sigh. "That was fun." Prince Victor sarcastically commented before lifting his arms over his head and letting out a loud yawn.

Flipping open the book randomly, my eyes skimmed over words that made no meaning to me. I turned around as heavy footsteps approached, only to find Yeti balancing a ridiculous amount of books in her arms. “Found some good stuff—” she paused as her eyes strayed to the book I was holding. “What is that?” “A book?” She walked past me, dropping the heaps of books on the table before turning back to me. “Let me see that.” She said, prying the book from my fingers. “Forgotten Beasts: A Study on the Supernatural.

Eventually, with my arms full, I found Nicholas still in the fantasy section. He was engrossed in a thick hardcover, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Find something good?” I asked, approaching him. “Possibly. But I think you might like this one.” He handed me a paperback with an image of a woman wielding a sword on the front. I read the title aloud. “‘The Lycan Chronicles.’ Hmm, never heard of it.” “It’s a fantasy series,” he explained, still flipping through his own book. “Great world-building, complex characters...” He glanced up and smirked. “Plus, it has some... steamy scenes.”

The Innkeeper, frozen in a silent exclamation, seemed to fade from my vision. It was as if I was no longer in the dusty office, but suspended in a void, surrounded by swirling mists of light and shadow. Then, images began to coalesce within the glow of the parchment. They weren't static pictures, but fleeting, vibrant snippets, like dreams playing out in rapid succession. I saw flashes of familiar faces, though some were older, etched with lines of experience I hadn't seen before. There was Fenrik, his golden eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, but also a weariness that hadn't been present moments ago.

Not even remotely. “What kind of joke is this?” I muttered under my breath. I flipped through a few more pages for good measure, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing that had anything to do with me or that strange power surge or… whatever had happened. Just random stories, myths, legends… beasts that belonged in bedtime stories, not real life. My irritation finally snapped. I slammed the book shut, harder than necessary. The sound echoed through my room, and a puff of dust burst into the air.

I murmured, gathering my things. At Row D, I ran my fingers across worn spines: Lycanthropy and Legends, Moon-bound, The Silver Curse. My pulse quickened as I pulled a heavy volume free. I whispered to myself, “Could I really…?” “Could you really what?” a voice came from behind me. I spun to see Fiona standing there, arms folded, a curious smile on her face. “Fiona! You scared me.” “Sorry.” She peered at the book in my hand. “Werewolves? That’s… unexpected. Planning a Halloween prank?”

Yes, fantasy. According to her, I was more likely to stumble across a werewolf or a dragon than a man as sweet as the ones who lived in the pages of my romance novels. I remembered Gavin’s reaction — or lack of it — to my joke about werewolves the other day. The man definitely didn’t know what werewolves were. It seemed likely that he wouldn’t read fantasy but did he read at all?