Mystery Fantasy Novels Novels & Stories

It all started in the summer of 2018, with the mysterious disappearance of the two wealthiest men in Seattle. As written by Seattle Daily, “An unidentified body was found in the apartment of the richest most eligible bachelors in Seattle, The Hudson brothers who at this point are presumed the main suspects in this investigation whose whereabouts are currently unknown..”

Soft, oriental rugs muffled the sound of my footsteps as I walked around the room, examining the shelves. I hoped the key or card or whatever I was looking for had not been kept in the books. I had no idea how Rachel thinked, but I had an inking of how Ryan and Sebastian's minds worked now. They would choose something that was out of the ordinary, and without any significance. I checked the sections for books that were out of the ordinary in each section. A fantasy in a romance section, a horror in a mystery section. But no, none of the books were that way.

Other Books by the Author . . . 1. Baby's Daddy — Pregnancy-Romance/Mystery 2. The Third Side of the Coin — Horror/Suspense 3. Her Dilemma — Pregnancy-Romance/Billionaire 4. The Rancher's Heart — Romance/Single-Father 5. A Week of Batching — Mystery/Suspense . 6. Chronicles of an Amnesiac — SciFi/Mystery/Short Story 7. On Air — Billionaire/Pregnancy-Romance/Mystery

I was completely bored, left with my own unfriendly thoughts. I browsed through the books he had stacked on the shelves. They were a lot. I had picked up and returned a number of them. Ranging from romance novels to murder, to books about demons and angels. Even though I was casually looking through for something that would interest me, I was hoping to find a book on magic and spells.

Eventually, with my arms full, I found Nicholas still in the fantasy section. He was engrossed in a thick hardcover, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Find something good?” I asked, approaching him. “Possibly. But I think you might like this one.” He handed me a paperback with an image of a woman wielding a sword on the front. I read the title aloud. “‘The Lycan Chronicles.’ Hmm, never heard of it.” “It’s a fantasy series,” he explained, still flipping through his own book. “Great world-building, complex characters...” He glanced up and smirked. “Plus, it has some... steamy scenes.”

The shuffle of hangers, the low hum of a dusty radio playing soft rock in the background, the occasional exclamation from a customer who’s found a hidden gem. In the back corner, I discover a wooden crate filled with books. My fingers hover over the spines, titles half faded, pages worn. I crouch down and start flipping through them, the paper whispering under my touch. Valerie appears beside me a moment later with a woven basket in one hand and a sequined scarf slung dramatically around her neck. “Any treasure?” she asks, crouching beside me. “Not sure yet,” I murmur, pulling out a leather bound book with a cracked spine. The title is barely legible. Myths of the Forgotten Realms. My breath

Touched and angry at the same time. Touched that he'd cared enough to think about what I'd want. Angry that he'd been planning my imprisonment. I pushed those complicated feelings aside and kept browsing. The fiction section was extensive. Mystery novels. Thrillers. Fantasy. Literary fiction. And romance novels. A whole shelf of them. I pulled one out, curious. The cover showed a shirtless man with tattoos and a woman in a provocative pose. Very dramatic. Very over-the-top. I flipped it over to read the back.

Something strange happens in Rafe's house, especially in Luna's room. A very old magic book, the Grimoire, opens by itself. The room feels even stranger when ghostly laughter is heard. Then suddenly a clear sentence breaks the silence. "I must hurry with this plan," says a mysterious voice, and then the Grimoire disappears as if it had never been there. The story moves to the wilds of Borneo, a different and secret place. Here many helicopters, supported by air force planes, are searching for something important.

The man was a quick learner, picking up on what Marietta had said, even the word pupus that he didn't know, and embodying it. — First, I would like to talk a little about what I write. In Oz they say my books they are a little transgressive, that make a certain confusion of genres. Bookstores don't know much whether they are classified as mystery books, paranormal books or action thrillers. You've probably already noticed this trend in the publishing world. In the past, used to If so, there were clear limits to commercial fiction. A book was a mystery story, a fiction

“Yes, just like you, High Lord of the Mystics.” “So you’re saying these… these children’s tales,” Ryatt says with effort, his eyes narrowing with frustration as he waves down to the ancient books now littering the table, “aren’t tales at all?” “There’s always truth in fiction.” Ryatt’s nostrils flare in annoyance, but I step closer to the books, gently flipping a page. The text is in a language that predates Firestone. It’s looping scribbles–symbols I don’t recognize, and even Misty, who excels at this kind of thing, looks perplexed.