Murder Mystery Romance Novels & Stories

This is my second book and it is more of a Mafia romance, I promise you will not regret a thing. I am looking forward to giving you the best. Thanks

Author's POV : The rooms are beautifully decorated with scented and floating candles everywhere. The dim lighting and soft and soothing music make it all the more romantic. Rose petals are scattered on the bed. Smaran enters the room, locks the door, and turns his gaze all around in astonishment. Soon his surprised face turns into a happy one and then he starts looking for her in the room but she is nowhere to be seen.

My father could take as many women as he desired, but they could never take the place of my mother, whom he had murdered. The Moon Goddess gave our mates to us, though some considered her a pesky meddler. My father had been mated to my mother when he was rather young, and they had grown up side by side. My mother, the Lycan Luna, was graceful and submissive to her alpha, never challenging me in public or causing him any reason to be ashamed of her. My mother adored my father and lived her life each day to please him. She was mostly successful until the day tragedy struck.

It was just the shadow of an animal or something. Walking to the cherry bookcases, she allowed her fingers to trace over all the beautiful book covers, surprised at the wide range of genres on display--mysteries, classics, even a romance or two. Her lips quirked up at that. She did not see Nicolai as a romance reader. Plucking one of these romances off the shelf, she retired to the incredibly comfy looking double armchair in front of the fire, intending to read for a few minutes before Nickolai got there and they could explore the promised bath together.

Please note: This a dark romance story, it features dark content. Alissia POV I sit at my desk, staring blankly at the blinking cursor on my screen. It mocks me, as if it knows I have no idea where to start with my latest attempt. Dark romance. The genre I never thought I’d touch. But after bombing miserably in everything else—comedy, fantasy, sci-fi, even horror—I figured I’d give it a shot. How hard could it be to blend the raw, twisted emotions of a toxic relationship with an edge of danger? Apparently, harder than I thought.

The unease in her eyes was impossible to miss. I replied, "Good. Then let's get a divorce." I pulled out the divorce papers I had prepared long ago. I held them up with a faint smile. "Since you already think I'm a murderer, let's end this charade." "No!" Emery lunged forward and snatched the papers out of my hand. He ripped them into shreds and let the pieces scatter to the floor. He sneered. "I'm not divorcing you! I'd rather kill you and call it 'domestic violence' than give you an easy way out. If we divorce, things get messy for me. I'm not stupid."

"How could you even think that about me? Yeah, I survived, but I was a victim, too. And now, just because of one photo, you're calling me a killer? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" I swallowed hard, my voice breaking. "I said I probably fell asleep around 10 PM. I never said I was sure. My head was spinning from the altitude, and I wasn't clear. And come on—I'm just one woman. How the heck could I take out five grown men?" Alex's stare locked onto my face. "Yeah… doesn't seem likely." Just then, the coroner walked in with a fresh report, the pages still smelling like ink. He handed it straight to Alex.

Cassian’s fingers traced my bottom lip, smearing something warm across my chin. Blood. Not mine. His voice was a low purr against my trembling mouth. “Now,” he murmured. “You’re finally mine.” The light flickered. The shadows moved. And then— That was it. Blackness consumed the room. Darkness swallowed us whole. THE END THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING THIS SERIES TO THE VERY END. Author I*******m @agkbooks

She stood tall, spinning an axe firmly in one hand with blood splatters decorating her white dress. ‎ ‎We stared at her for five minutes straight before my voice seemed to find itself. "Are you the one who murdered them?" ‎ ‎"Murderer?" The lady's voice was bold, silky and heavy. "Honey, please, I'm an artist." ‎ ‎"So, you did." ‎ ‎The lift of her reddened lips answered me. ‎ ‎"What's your name, ma'am?" ‎ ‎The lady ignored us and paid attention to her wrist. Then she stretched. "Remember me as an artist who needs no name and introduction."

They sliced my skin with silver knives and crudely stitched me back up. I was a horror show. A monster made of scars and silence. But I never made a sound. As the memory ended, the dungeon exploded with rage. “I was right! Anya is a twisted monster!” “She was too cowardly to get revenge on Thorne, so she blamed it all on the former Alpha and Luna!” “Lachlan, this is all the proof you need! Murdering a former Alpha is a capital crime. Execute her now!” The wolves surged toward my cell, ready to tear me apart.