Must Read Mystery Books Novels & Stories

Thank you to everyone for joining this journey. Thank you for reading till the end. I am going to miss this book. 😥😭😭 I need a feedback from you as a reader If you accept or not, you love mystery, that's why you reached here. I am glad sometimes you feel confused because I write deliberately to make it look confused. So my mission was successful. If I leave anything behind without revealing, then tell me. I will make it clear. I hope everything got cleared.

"It helps me think. Or not think, depending on what I need." "What kind of books?" "Everything. History. Philosophy. Fiction. Biographies. I'm not picky." I pull out a worn paperback. Look at the cover. "The Count of Monte Cristo?" "One of my favorites. Read it at least five times." "Really? The mafia boss likes classic literature?" He smiles. "The mafia boss is full of surprises." We settle on the couch. Not too close. But not distant either. The fire crackles softly. "So why couldn't you sleep?" Ocean asks.

I spoke casually to him, not minding if he gets angry. " I'm afraid that it impossible!" He states, and I found myself asking him again. "Why it is impossible?" "How about I show you!" He explains while moving to his room. After a while he came back with the book between his hands, he then handed it to me. The moment I took the book, I noticed nothing weird about it. Well, there was a tiny weird thing about it. on the middle of its cover came a sentence that says. { If you are able to read this, then know that only one drop of your blood can open the book of mystery.}

Once in a while, he would raise his head up and look out the window, watching the activities of the world. "What are you reading?" Alex jumped a bit in his seat, startled by the voice that had spoken. It was Amanda, her eyes were still closed as she spoke, but she had taken out her iPods. "Uh... Never trust a dead man, it's a murder mystery book." He told her. "Never trust a dead man?" She laughed. "Why would you trust someone already dead?" She finally opened her eyes looking over at Alex. "Well, it's... It's hard to explain, the book explains it all."

Since he just finished reading “The Big Sleep” by Raymond Chandler last night, Jacob is staring at his stash of new books to read, trying to decide what to read. Flipping through the three new books on his hands, Alexandra’s angelic face flashed in his mind’s eye. In those few seconds that she looked up to him this evening, he felt as if she was trying to look right through him. Like she was trying to find something in his eyes but was not able to.

My curiosity started when Freeda suddenly thought that I was a vampire, she was so weird at that time. I also got up and picked up the book on my desk. This book is all about Dracula, written by Bram Stoker. I haven't read any books on the shelves, I'm not into reading. It's boring. Well, Enzo and Flynn are the bookworms in the pack, they loved to stay at the library. Enzo loved to read romance books and that's gross, while Flynn loved to read mystery thriller books of Agatha Christie. He once pushed me to read the book, Sherlock Holmes, by Arthur Conan Doyle but I refused, I was busy painting some sceneries.

And normally I never talked in bookstores, I would curl up in a corner and preview each book, in the most silence I could get. But now I missed having someone who loved books just as much as I did, here with me to pick and choose the ones I wanted to bring home with me. I wandered over to the mystery section, swiping the 2nd book in the series off the shelf and it reminded me of how many times Dallas came over this section, unsure of what to get for Vienna.

But nothing seemed to match the symbol on my door. Frustrated, I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. There had to be something here, some clue that I was missing. I glanced at the stack of books beside me, my eyes landing on one that looked older and more worn than the others. Its leather cover was cracked and faded, the title barely legible: *The Mysteries of Silverwood.* I pulled the book closer and opened it carefully. The pages were brittle, the text handwritten in an elegant script. As I flipped through the pages, a passage caught my eye:

The day had been long and tiring, full of unexpected events. I bent over to set the alarm for tomorrow and reached for my book. I have been engrossed in a collection of traditional fairytales with a mafia spin. They were captivating, and I cherished the quiet moments when I could indulge in reading them. Stephanie Swann was one of my favourite authors, and I loved the worlds she created in her books, especially the morally ambiguous male characters and fierce female leads. After devouring three chapters, I glanced at the clock and sighed in disappointment, realizing I would have to wait until tomorrow to read more.

It can really suck. My phone beeps, I slide it off my bedside table that has five books on it I’m currently reading. I am a bit of a mood reader and can have at least five books on the go at one time, ranging from romance to thriller and the odd crime book thrown in. Liam always takes the piss out of me and wonders how I don’t easily become confused with the characters and the places or plots. I wonder this too but as soon as I pick a book up, I’m instantly transported to the place, situation and characters I get attached too. I’m always so invested in my characters, it’s crazy. When I’ve finished reading I reckon I suffer with disassociation disorder because I feel almost gutted, like I’ve