Historical Fantasy Fiction Novels & Stories

She told herself that again and again until her breathing slowly came back to normal and she could no longer hear the rustling of the wind outside. Rie turned her gaze back to the book she’s reading. It was the historic account of the war that happened a hundred years ago. Before the world, as everyone had known it, ended. In the year 2025, the third biggest war in the history of mankind happened. But it wasn’t between two countries or group of countries. It was between vampires and werewolves. That’s right, vampires and werewolves. When nobody believed in such beings, they suddenly appeared and changed the course of history. That was followed by the appearance of witches, wizards, even fair

But I worried that I had already screwed things up. “Before we discuss that further, I’m going to speak about a few different fantasy authors whose works we will discuss in class. Kenneth Regan, I will talk about first. He was born in the early 1900s and wrote some of my favorite books. He was largely known for blending complicated historical issues in Fantasy novels, but he himself was quite funny and light-hearted.” The way Joseph spoke about Kenneth Regan was like he was talking about a friend. His knowledge of not only his professional life but also his personal life was astonishing.

“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.

The Alpha has it. The first book had left its readers including me in a cliffhanger. I had always wanted to know what happened next on the journey of the main character. Actually it was not really about the world’s history, but it is just about the character travelling to different places in different times, discovering treasures, witnessing wars, anything that happened significantly on the year he had travelled on. And though it is a fictional story, it still has a touch of true world history in it, depending on where the character went and what time.

I turn to stare at him sceptically, but also with a little bit of intrigue. It sounds like he’s reading out of a storybook to me. I mean, if he’s being sincere, which is frightening to think about and pretty much… impossible. “Our history began during the 14th century when one brave woman who could conjure and manipulate all the elements around her, scoured through Europe for people just like her, who had magical abilities unknown to humankind.”

Seventy-five is clearly just the tip of the iceberg. On My Bedside Table Now The Historian, by Elizabeth Kostova, and I am Legend by Richard Matheson. And everyone is telling me I forgot The Vampire Files — some 12 novels by P.N. Elrod. Urban fantasy set in 1930s Chicago, featuring a hardboiled P.I. named Jack Fleming. FacebookTwitterFlipboardEmail Sign Up For The Pop Culture Happy Hour Newsletter Stay pop culture savvy with NPR’s guide to TV, books, movies, music and more, sent weekly.

The Enchanted Realm's magic, once distant and ethereal, now courses through their veins, a vibrant current that ignites their very essence. With every page turned and every scroll unraveled, the lines between their world and the hero's narrative begin to blur, merging into a mesmerizing mosaic of fate. The Enchanted Realm's history melds with the new character's present, like paint on an artist's canvas, blending colors and stories to form a tapestry that defies the boundaries of time and space. The past and the present intermingle, their stories interwoven in a symphony that carries the echoes of forgotten ages.

I asked. “Another one of his historical smuts.” Henry replied, raising his voice to grab Ron’s attention. “This is fine historical literature not smut.” I snorted at that. “Fine historical literature my ass.” Henry said. Hen was right. I had once searched for a book in Ron’s vast library that did not involve a Duke being wickedly seduced by a temptress or a Highlander spilling his seeds into a moaning fair maiden and had not found any. Not that I was complaining, they were quite educative.

At the very least, she was relieved to escape the confined space of the kitchen. As Marcus worked at the sink, Vivienne wandered back into the front room where her curiosity got the better of her. She drifted over to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, her fingers tracing the spines of the array of worn paperbacks and hardcovers in a variety of colours and sizes. Expecting to find typical bodyguard or espionage novels, she was taken aback to discover a collection dominated by high fantasy titles and series. Lord of the Rings, The Way of Kings, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Witcher, there was even a collection of classic fairytales.

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. He stood beside someone I didn't recognize, a tall, cloaked figure whose face was obscured by shadow. I saw myself too, in various forms—sometimes wielding a sword with unexpected grace, sometimes cloaked in dark, flowing robes, a crown of thorns resting on my head. In one vision, I stood on a precipice overlooking a vast, shimmering city, flames licking at the horizon. In another, I held a small, glowing orb in my hands, its light pulsing in rhythm with my own accelerated heartbeat.