My Murder Book Novels & Stories

“No way you’re just some girl with a sad story. Where’s the one who melted steel in my hand? Where’s that creature?” My lips parted, but no words came. “I know she’s in there.” His breath brushed my ear, low and lethal. “So either you start talking, or I test how deep I can cut before you stop breathing.” The knife shifted, steel cold, the edge biting against my skin. “What exactly do you want to know?” He didn't reply. I tsked. I tried to push against him once more but that was useless. I let out a shaky breath. “The people who killed me name was my brother, named Marcus Vale. Damon Cross.”

Tammy carefully scanned the cupboard covering every corner, it was an antique cupboard carried out of teak and might have cost a fortune, it rails and side panel were clean and scratch free, it covered half of the wall and had two sections on either sides of a series of shelves that supported a pile of books. A section below the book shelves contains some drawers which one has been pulled out, she presumed that something might have been taken out of this drawer by the murderer and he or she had forgot to shut it. The other two larger sections that stood on either side of the shelves stretched from the roof to the cabinets base. The knob were made of brass except for a single knob on the sect

I go the book I am currently reading, it is murder mystery/ thriller, titled ‘As good as dead’ and it is very interesting and intriguing. It was about a girl about to go to college, she is Blake’s age and she had spent the past two years solving murder cases and now she is clearly traumatized since in the last book, she had a guy die in her arms. I am not far in, I just started it on the plane and I have had much time to finish the book.

Her shoulders trembled. The prosecutor continued. "Forensic analysis shows the child didn't die instantly. If he had received timely medical treatment, his survival rate would have exceeded 70 percent. It was the defendant who personally prevented rescue efforts and directly caused her son's death. "This was not negligence, and it wasn't an accident. It was a premeditated murder. She simply killed the wrong person." Esther's lawyer had no response. In the end, the judge brought down the gavel. Esther Lawson was found guilty of intentional homicide and sentenced to 15 years in prison.

Still, because I had become used to the excruciating sensation of vervain, I chose to ignore that it was causing the skin on my hands to burn. I gave him a wink and replied, "That's for me to know and for you to never find out." This infuriates him even further since he quickly grabbed another book and began rereading it. "1775. Kurt Luke, accused of murder, was found dead by the creek. He was ripped to shreds. I've been to many different towns and heard stories about this. People are being murdered without any explanation. There is no evidence to support the case. They call it the Pearl. You never know who the victim is going to be, and you never know how they're going to die. One day, out

I've had that feeling before and it's still fresh in my memory. “She went up to check on Lila,” I responded, striking a pose as I watched my claws grow longer until they reached their limits. My fangs stuck out of the corner of my mouth, ready to devour whoever would stand in my way. “We have a murderer in the building, maybe more than one. We're not sure.” I spoke with my voice steady and intentional. His brow shot up in a questioning manner. “Morinda was murdered.” His brow twitched as realization dawned on him, he understood the hidden meaning in my words.

I interjected, surprising everyone in the room but I was done being the brother everyone considered weak, "how did that book even start circulating?" Eddie released an exasperated sigh, "When Mickey was killed four years ago, I wasn't aware his lawyer was already told to release that book. It was his fuck you from beyond the grave. I only found out about it months later and I took care of whoever was involved, but I never found the book. It was dormant for a long time because everyone in our circle knew better than to fuck with me. But, I did try finding it. Until one day word got to me that the book had found its way to a cop's desk." "Who do you think gave them the book?" With every word,

“The fire investigator said that I left my book on the stove and it caught fire. It happens.” “Did you leave a book?” he asked. “I’d never seen the book before,” she explained. “It was called, ‘You’re Next.’ They also found the remains of the rest of the series in the kitchen. Their titles were ‘Dead Man Walking’ and ‘Dead and Deader.’ They weren’t my books.” “He put them there?” he asked. “That’s a heck of a warning.” “Yeah,” she agreed. “So I ran. I know that he’s out there. I think I’m safe for now. I’ve crossed state lines, and I don’t think he has a good way to track me, but...”

“You want to buy your wife a copy of Why It Is Prudent To Kill the Man That You Marry?” The killer’s eyebrows raised a fraction before he could control them. “Why, uh . . . yes. Yes, I do. That is precisely the book that I wish to purchase. For my wife.” “Kathleen” shrugged, and the killer sighed in relief. The woman burst into a long and tedious book report using words like “feminist ideals” and “male oppressive dogs” and by the time they were completely alone and it was time for her to die, the murderer was very, very ready to kill her.

Sabeerah brought them out one by one. Muslim Girl and If I Speak by Umm Zakiyyah, The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides, Three Daughters Of Eve by Elif Shafak, On Black Sister's Street by Chika Unigwe, And Then There Was None by Agatha Christie, A Time To Kill by John Grisham and finally, A History Of The Wives Of Prophet Muhammad by Umam Kahn. She picked up the last book which was actually a journal and tucked in its side were plack pencils with bookish scribbles on them.