Mystery 101 Book Novels & Stories

MYSTIC HOLLOW (Homicide) . BY NAOMI INNOCENT . CHAPTER 11 . "Some weeks ago, a young lady came here and asked me same questions about Sarah Bellos. You definitely do not know what you are trying to deal with" Grandpa warned. "Grandpa, if you give us hints, we believe we can do this, together" Peter spoke as Grandpa breathed down. "Kids, stay away from Mystic Hollow mysteries.." he didn't finish as Laura cut in.

“No Aria I am not” “Good.” He opened his book again and I looked at it. “What are you reading?” He showed me the cover. “It’s a mystery novel.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is it good?” “Yeah.” “What is it about?” “A detective investigating a murder.” I made a face. “That’s dark.” “You asked.” He said and laughed I laughed. “Can I read it?” He looked at me. “You want to?” “Yes.” He shifted the book slightly so I could see.

she said as she observed me on the couch. I gave her a big cheesy grin. It fell as she left the room. I glared at the stupid book in my hand. It was meant for kids and therefore omitted all the important stuff. I slammed it shut and turned it over in my hands. When your at the heart of a mystery, you either want it solved or gone or to never have existed in the first place.

His hands shake, and his eyes blur for no reason. He closed his eyes to give them a quick rest, then held the bridge of his nose, "In every mystery, there’s a puzzle waiting to be pieced together. But this puzzle seems to have other pieces that belong somewhere else but where?" Gertrude's brow rose, then asked in a curious tone, "Why do you think that?" "In a normal murder case, what are the basic things to consider?" He asks. "The victim. The suspect. The motive." She responds

“IT’S JUST I HAD a different book in mind when ink spilled on this one, plus what’s left to do in a finished book?” They, of course, ignored me Completely probably deciding if I would not explain, they were just going to proceed. One of the three waved their hand above the inky darkness we were standing on, and instantly a book on a pedestal was in front of them on the floor. It showed off my title, ‘1001 Dark Tales’. I instantly held my breath, hoping they didn’t realize what that meant. But if they had, they said nothing. Instead, they just started flipping through the pages of the book, looking for which store to choose.

"You found the library." Zade's voice. Of course. "Yes," I said, still not looking up. "I found it." "Finding everything you need?" "Yes." Silence. I could feel him standing there, watching me. Could feel the weight of his gaze. "What are you reading?" he asked. "A book." "I can see that. What book?" I finally looked up, holding up the cover so he could see. "Murder mystery. Detective thriller. Nothing interesting." His eyes scanned the cover, then moved to my face. "You like mysteries?"

A moment later, a piece of paper slid through the narrow gap beneath my door. The footsteps retreated in haste. I peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty. I didn't touch the note, afraid of smudging fingerprints. Instead, I crouched and read the words on it: I know the truth about Edmund's death. Come to the big banyan tree in Greenfield Residences at 11 p.m. Don't call the police. The note was crafted with meticulous care—letters cut out from newspapers and books, pieced together like a ransom demand, leaving no trace of handwriting.

The ancient tome lay open before me, its pages a labyrinth of inscrutable symbols and faded script that murmured of a time long forgotten. The musty scent of the library mingled with the potent tang of old leather, wrapping around my senses as I bent closer to study the enigmatic text. Curiosity clawed at my mind, sharpening my focus until nothing existed beyond the cryptic messages waiting to be unraveled. ... (Time Travel: revelation of the mystery book) EDEN BENTLEY'S POV

ISBN 978 0 14 044913 6 Page 114, Paragraph 3 My breath stopped. A book cipher. I remember this, I whispered. He used to hide messages in books. Adrian’s voice sharpened immediately. Find the book. I moved fast to the shelf, scanning titles with shaking hands. Then I saw it. The Count of Monte Cristo. My fingers trembled as I pulled it out. Pages flipped too quickly as I searched, panic building in my chest. Until I reached page 114. Paragraph three.

Probably because the shelf was old and creaky; any part of it could be affected if I touch any other. As I raised my hand to put back the book in its shelf, I noticed the book seemed different from the others. It was blue, and had blue stones on it. “hmmm.” I opened the book, and what I read, caught my interest. *MYSTERY WORDS CAN’T BE SEEN, BUT CAN BE BROUGHT TO THE PAGES, BY FIRE.* It was weird, but I turned to the next page, and it was blank. I turned to another, and it was also blank, until I flipped the pages until the end, and realized everything was blank.