Mystery Comedy Books Novelas e Histórias

“Back before you were a world-famous author, huh?” Brad laughed. “Yeah, back then I was working for my hometown paper writing obituaries.” “So your work hasn’t changed too much; you’re still writing about death.” “I suppose you could look at it that way.” “I’ll confess I haven’t actually read any of your books. I know of you by reputation, but I’m a bit too squeamish for horror. A mystery, on the other hand, suits me just fine.” “Hey, to each his own. Or her own. I like mysteries, too; in some ways they share similar elements with horror.”

MYSTIC HOLLOW Homicide . BY NAOMI INNOCENT . CHAPTER 10 . Laura peered round the room as she breathed in. "Lunch is served. You don't wanna miss your grandma's meatloaf right? She is looking for you" her grandpa said as she rolled her eyes and placed her hands at her back pocket. Remembering how terrible her granny's meatloaf tastes. Then it dawned on her, her grandpa is mysterious, how did he know all these?

I fell asleep after several minutes. The next day, I decided to head into a few stores with Jenny. Just to get away from the mansion and have some great company. Something to distract myself from the troubles inside my brain. Jenny and I headed into a book store and we looked around. We both enjoyed reading all sorts of books. Reading something can make you forget about the world around you for a moment and some books can even make you feel like you’re in whatever world is created inside the book. Reading romance and comedy are my favorite, but once in a while, a good mystery is good to read too. I was busy reading the back of a book from an author that I never heard of before while Jenny w

Fuck, she makes me feel everything. "It is indeed a good morning," I say wrapping more of her wild hair around her ear so I can see her face better. "Sorry, I fell asleep," she says. I'm not sorry. I didn't want to get into her Dad's allegations last night and even though she wasn't happy about it she asked me to read her the book she had grabbed off my book shelf. One of my favorites. It's a mystery novel about two mates who find each other while they are both trying to catch the same serial killer that's on the loose.

I couldn’t help but smile. He squinted his eyes at me. “Ah, you know something that I don’t.” “Know what?” My smile widened. “At least, you share my frustration. It’s a good book, right?” “Yes. One of the great books I’ve read.” “I don’t even know if you read.” He smiled sadly. “One thing only a few people know about me, but yeah, I read.” “What’s your genre?” “Thriller, mystery, nonfiction. But Midnight is a mix of—"

That would be emotional suicide. I moved away from the romance section quickly, like it might contaminate me somehow. Crime thriller. I'd read a crime thriller. Something with murder and investigations and absolutely zero sexual tension. That was safer. Much safer. I browsed the mystery section and pulled out a book I'd heard good things about. A detective novel set in London. Dark, gritty, complex. Perfect. I carried it to one of the comfortable chairs by the window and settled in. The chair was incredibly comfortable—soft leather that seemed to mold around me. There was a small side table with a reading lamp. A footstool I could put my feet up on.

That’s what saved you from ending up like those other poor guys. I just grinned and tapped my nose. Sitting alone at the kitchen table, I popped open a pack of ramen and flicked on the TV. "Today, our city was rocked by a spree of break-ins and murders, all targeting rich single men. The cops cracked the case wide open, rounding up a whole gang of suspects.” As I listened to the news anchor's report, I could not help but think there was some truth to the saying that after the storm is when the flowers bloomed.

I was in the library as usual reading a book I picked from the shelf when the door suddenly opened. The devil was back! He looked at me with a smirk on his face. “Nice choice of book for someone as innocent as you”. The book was about murder. A mystery novel to help keep my mind occupied rather than dwelling on my problems. I liked romance as much as the next girl but needed something darker and more compelling. Something more relatable to the state of my life.

Harley said, cutting me off. I cursed myself in my mind. My habit of speaking too much had become a curse for me. Something would slip out one way or another. “It's public info.” Before she could argue, I asked, “So they just took everyone home?” “Yeah, keep trying to change the topic.” “I’m not changing the topic.” “Yes, you are. You always do this. Now I’m suspicious about your reluctance to take on any Mafia-related project. You literally are a Mafia encyclopaedia.”

On the body of the case was a little note: FIGURED YOU’D LIKE THESE -X. My curiosity heightened as I tore open the case, and I gasped once I saw what was inside. Books- novels to be precise, all stacked neatly in the case. As I glanced through their titles, I noticed they were thrillers and horror genres, a bit of romance too. My toes curled in excitement and a grin spread across my face as I looked through all of them. I rolled my eyes. Of course, he’d figured I’d like them; he always figured everything about me.