Great Suspense Books Novels & Stories

She kneeled beside a locked iron chest, whispered a spell under her breath, and opened it. The air dropped ten degrees. Inside lay a thick, ancient book wrapped in dark leather that looked almost… alive. The Book of the Damned. Its surface pulsed faintly. Rhea swallowed. “That thing creeps me out.” “It should,” Violet said simply. She carried it with both hands and placed it on the oak table. As she flipped open the pages, black ink shimmered like oil. Kael stepped closer. Fenrak crossed his arms, expression changing from playful to serious.

It was completely dry, its thick leather cover pristine, its pages white and unblemished by blood or ink. ​But as Elara reached out a trembling hand to pick up the book, the headlights of the white sedan suddenly flickered and died, plunging the highway into a deep, absolute darkness. ​The quiet of the forest was broken not by the sound of crickets or rain, but by a slow, heavy, and terrifyingly familiar sound that echoed from the dashboard inside the dark car.

Peaceful. Vespera Hale walked along the mahogany shelves, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books. Philosophy. Strategy. History. She stopped. On a shelf at eye level, nestled between The Art of War and a first edition of The Count of Monte Cristo, was a book she didn't recognize. It had no dust jacket. The binding was matte black, textured like volcanic rock. The lettering on the spine was silver, sharp and angular. SAVAGE REBORN.

HIS DARKEST SHADE BOOK-THREE ~Prologue~ “Even if you end up hating me for it.” His tone was vicious. “I might scare you,” he continued, his gaze roaming over her trembling form, “but they are far worse—formidable, vicious… and willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.” He gestured toward her. “Including you.” “Never.” She shook her head, her voice trembling but firm. “I’m not scared of your words. You’re just trying to scare me so I’ll listen to you!”

The curtain is white and almost every other thing in the room. I turn back, feeling scared that I have been kidnapped. What happened? I ask inwardly again, trying my very best to remember what happened. The inquisitive me ignores the little question in my brain when I spot a small bookshelf with several books on it. The curiosity takes the better of me because I find myself taking slow baby steps toward the shelf. I pick up the first book my hand comes in contact with and I see New York Best Selling written boldly on it. I gasp.

Instead, he replied with actual books I’ve read before in my first life that he firmly hated. “‘Darkness Within’ is my first recommendation. Absolutely amazing. ‘Death, are you real?’ is also good, as well as ‘The Next Morning’. Those three are my best picks.” I blinked several times, visibly surprised. Earlier events completely shoved to the side as this new discovery of Cassius Silverton reading thriller books had me utterly nonplussed.

Rita feels a chill run down her spine. Despite her fear, Rita decides to go inside the house. She carefully opens the front door and steps inside. She sees that there's a trail of books leading from the front door, down the hallway, and into the living room. The books are all old and dusty, and some of them look like they haven't been touched in years. Rita follows the trail of books, and as she walks into the living room, she sees something that makes her blood run cold.

The kind of panic that made me want to set fire to the world, only to sift through the ashes for what was lost. Perched on a sofa clearly not meant for someone my size, I fanned through one of the thousands of books the male, Dain, had sent to the suite. Half of these tomes read like textbooks, while the others were packed with fiction and myth. There was no way of sorting between what might be real, and what might’ve been the illusive dreams of some ancient, long deceased scholar. I’d been seconds away from voicing as much when I heard a breathy little whimper, not unlike the one’s my mate had mate last night, sound from across the room.

For a second, I’m tempted, but then another wave of heat erupts in my chest, and I lose my nerve. “Tell me about the other books,” I say instead. “The other books?” I nod. And as I tuck my knees to my chest and wind my free arm around my knees, breathing through the stuffiness that’s getting more unbearable by the minute, I listen to the most garbled plot summaries I’ve ever heard in my entire life. “Okay. See, there’s this one with a man and his nephew. And they journey to the center of the earth. And there are dinosaurs. And a tornado? Shit—” The brow furrows again. “It might have been a tsunami. Something like that.”

She looked like she had not slept at all, with eye bags clearly visible underneath her eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept at all granny?” Isla who seemed to have picked up what I did spoke up. “I actually haven’t slept. The book that Diane handed to me yesterday. It has a lot of twists and turns and I just couldn’t put it down I didn’t still until midnight and the first thing I did this morning was read it.” “Sounds like a pretty interesting book.” I pointed out. “It is.” Grandma said. “The suspense is everything. Diane really knows the good stuff.”