Fantasy Picture Books Novels & Stories

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 living room was quiet now; Mary was napping, Richie was reading on the couch, and little Albus was sprawled on the rug with a box of crayons and a worn sketchpad. Brandon glanced over. “What are you working on, bud?” Albus held up the drawing proudly. “It’s the deer-man!” Brandon raised an eyebrow, setting the iron poker down. “The what now?” “The man with antlers,” Albus said matter-of-factly, like he was talking about the sky being blue. “I saw him in the forest. He was really tall and had tree branches on his head, and his eyes glowed. He waved at me.” Brandon chuckled softly. “You’ve got a wild imagination, little man.”

At least, for now, I want to pretend everything is still alright. I step out of the kitchen and through the corridor to the living room. "Would you like any snacks with—" I gasp halfway through my question, nearly dropping the tray. Rhys is holding a familiar book in his hand. I instantly know what it is, but I stubbornly hope he didn’t read it. That thought flies out the window when he opens his mouth. "You have quite the imagination, Kira Davidson."

As he ran, he felt a certain surge of adrenaline, his heart rate accelerated, his muscles locked in place, and his stomach abruptly disappeared, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness, while pinpricks of terror rippled along his scalp. There wasn't a single person in the meadow who didn't freeze that fateful morning, looking at the forest with the same breathless emotion reflected in their eyes, and the monsters also froze, in which that entire region was taken over by a wave of ice, snow and such an intense cold of an icy landscape. The war between the ice fairies of the south who fought between the winter kingdoms of the south, amidst disputes for power and the war with the ice king amidst

I was sure. I sighed and flipped it open again, running my fingers across the stiff old pages. The writing inside was tiny, neat, and definitely older than anything I had ever seen in Father’s library. Each chapter had illustrations of different beasts, creatures I’d only heard whispers of. Gargoyles, gnomes that were alive, serpent women and even sirens. None of these existed though… or did they? I could feel my head throbbing from an oncoming headache so I just shut the book and stared at the ceiling of my room.

Not in this life. In something older. The golden warmth inside her chest pulsed slowly. Not afraid. Anticipating. The door opened. Light poured through. Not blinding. Not holy. Brilliant — but edged in something sharp. A figure stepped through. Tall. Radiant. Terrible. Beautiful. Wings unfurled behind him — not feathered white, not demonic black — but something shifting between both, like light seen through fractured glass. His eyes were not cruel. They were ancient.

Dojo reeked slaughter, copper-thick, tatami slick crimson pools, our chests heaving thunder-sync, indigo hakamas spattered gore. "You fight like you're born to it," he growled, scarred jaw inches, porcelain fingers banding my wrist pull-close, obsidian devouring mahogany flush. Blood smeared his cheek war-paint, dragon tattoo pulsing throat wild. No fear in his stillness—predator sated, but gaze burned deeper hunger.

Seeking Deeper Fantasy is set in Stark city, where Corey Lawson, a 31 years old faces challenges as he discovers that the woman he is in love with, Kisha Prime, is the reason his whole childhood became a nightmare. Driven by resilience, he takes Legacy Woodwork to a greater height. Kisha Prime, a 25 years old, raised by her stepfather Morgan Lawson, the man who abandons his family to be with his one true love, Marla. Sharing deep memories together of life, but unfortunately are not allowed to be together because of the hatred between both families. Robert Prime, deeply in love with Marla orchestrated a wedge between Morgan and Marla by getting married to her against her will. Mor

“Because after this amazing experience with you, if I die today and if there is another life, my soul would recognize you when we meet because your soul has mixed up with mine.” A shiver ran up her spine at his words because they took her mind back to Devon and how he’d been so certain that she was his mate. He knew he would meet her even before he did and that was the inspiration behind that remarkable painting at the gallery. What had he called it? A Werewolf Fantasy?