Fiction Adventure Books Novels & Stories

“Fantasy?” Came the uncertain inquiry through the bullhorn that sounded out loudly amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowded pier. Raising my hand I picked up my duffel bag and began making my way forward. As I walked the men about me stared. They always stared. It was kind of nice and yet annoying at the same time. It didn’t help that my Russian born mother so enamored with her relocation to a new and in her eyes, ‘fantasy land’ of America had named me as such.

I deserved better, this stupid year was just kicking my ass. Assuring myself of this, I took a deep breath out, running a hand through my hair as I crossed the road, headed straight into the library, putting my phone into my jacket pocket. The town library was exceptionally big, not too large though, but I must admit could hold quite a lot of books as they were rows upon rows. I made my way straight to the books about fantasy creatures, realizing that they were surprisingly many. Young Adult fantasy is a thing...like a big deal, I noted reading through so interesting titles, but not the specific one I was looking for.

The silence was punctuated only by our quiet murmurs, our shared yearning for a past we never knew, a future we desperately wished for. Later, amidst the twisted metal and rubble, James stumbled upon a tattered book, its cover mostly torn away, revealing only a few words—'The Chronicles of Atheria'. The title alone conjured images of a world far removed from our own, a place of magic and wonder, of brave knights and epic quests. The pages, brittle with age and decay, contained fragmented stories, glimpses of a civilization that had flourished before the catastrophe. It spoke of vibrant cities, of advanced technology, and of a society that lived in harmony with its environment.

His books were mostly nonfiction and finance books. As Sierra heard the water in the shower, it was a signal for her that Alek was already inside and waiting for her. Every inch of her skin was filled with excitement. The butterflies on her stomach couldn't stay still. But as she was ready to take off her clothes, there was something that caught her attention. In his sea of books, there was something different. It has a fantasy-like cover. The vintage appearance made it blend in among the rest. Yet, the vines on the corner were unusual. There was no discoloration on the edges though it seemed old. Something new pretending to be old.

“I hope so. Maybe a good book, too.” “Nonfiction or fiction?” He turned and faced her. “On vacation? Fiction. Before bed, non-fiction.” “Why non-fiction before bed?” “I like the fiction books too much. I won’t sleep. I have to know what the next chapter is. Does the dragon devour the town? Do the aliens win? How does the pauper become a prince? What about you?” the man asked. “Fiction or non-fiction?” “Fiction. I am a sucker for a good romance. And Dr. Seuss, of course, but that’s more on a professional level.”

I just wanted to say hello and thank you for reading this book! Or at least considering so. I will be your author and host of the adventure, Rayven. What inspired this book? Well, let me tell ya! I was in college in 2011 but life decided that it wasn't my path and threw my ass into motherhood instead. Left at a loss for what to do with my time, I decided to start this book series. I knew what was in most fantasy books: fantastical creatures and places, protagonist wins via antagonist revealing plans in some way, damsel in distress, adventure, conclusion, blah boring blah.

Just the soft rustle of pages and the comforting scent of old books. Only in stories, he thought, could he travel across oceans, through time, into the hearts of strangers without moving an inch, without lifting a finger. It was within ink and parchment that he found the most vivid adventures. Adventures that never asked him to sacrifice his stillness in exchange for wonder. And so, with his limbs weary but his mind slowly awakening, Arnav reached for a book. The kind of book that didn’t just pass the time, but gently stitched a man back together.

He was grossly outnumbered and the odds were in the favor of Nikjin and his army. She wondered what had become of her father; of Monah, the head warrior, of Seisa, and the other servants. How many werewolves have already lost their lives in this cursed place? How many more would have to die before this nightmare was over? Tears ran down her muzzle from her closed eyes. A silly thought occurred to her that nearly made her giggle out loud. If she’d known that she was coming to an era of civil war, she should have probably gone to bed with the dream stone and her father’s hunting rifle that was stashed in their attic back in Fairbanks. That would have surely tipped this fight in the werewolves'

Only then did I allow myself to climb into bed. Not wanting to think too hard about the events of the day, I instead retrieved the purple book from the bedside table and opened it, ready to finally lose myself in a world of fantasy and wonder. It was a book of fairy tales, old ones that I had never heard of before. Beautiful illustrations marked the start of each story, and the letters of the passages had been drawn smoothly and carefully.

"Take a look." My gaze followed to where he was pointing and my eyes settled on a particular section of the bookshelves. A series of worn leather-bound books caught my attention, each with intricate symbols on the spine. "What are these?" I asked, pointing to the books. Alex's eyes lit up with recognition. "Those are tales that have intrigued me since I was a child. I often come in here to read. Many of the books are legends, but they still hold facts about our history." "Like this one for example," he said, walking to the shelf and plucking a title at random. "It's 'The Secrets of The Panther Shifters.' There really aren't any secrets, it's just a retelling of their history."