Mystery Fiction Books Novels & Stories

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.

Cassandra sat quietly by the window of the small coffee shop, the scent of roasted beans mingling with the crisp pages of the book in her hands. Outside, spring was in full bloom—leaves shimmered in the sunlight, and the occasional breeze stirred the ivy growing up the side of the building. Her book, a worn paperback about native plant life and ecosystems, was one she had read before, but she always returned to it like an old friend.

"Any favorites?" "There's this series about ancient pack wars that's surprisingly well-researched. And I have a weakness for detective novels, though don't tell Carson. He thinks they're a waste of time, but I once caught him reading one and he was too focused on it to even know I was standing in the same room as he was." "Your secret's safe with me, maybe he just doesnt want to admit how good it is." She grinned. "I love mysteries too. Have you read the Inspector Blackwood series?"

Crime? In his case crime really did pay it would seem. Everything about him screamed money. It was so different to me. He was so different to me and maybe that’s why I was so attracted to him. Not for his money but because like he had said he was so darkly dangerous. Even dressed casually like he was, it poured off of him in waves.

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.

After she got at least enough books to make her occupied while Nicholas is at the meeting, she settles on to the small bedroom window that wasn’t that cramped more spacious but was enough for her to have a comfortable space to read at. Randomly picking the books amongst the huge stack, Zinnia pursed her lips as her brows rose with interest after seeing the title of the book in her hands. ‘Bane Legacy’ From the mysterious title itself, Zinnia can already tell that it must be a thriller, mystery, and fantasy book. Well, it doesn’t matter to her, the title was enough to make her stay. “Legacy? Hmm, humor me” she murmured before leaning her back at the wall behind her and finding a nice position

Shrewsbury The Third Twin: A Dark Psychological Thriller by Darren Speegle Aletheia: A Supernatural Thriller by J.S. Breukelaar Where the Dead Go to Die by Mark Allan Gunnells and Aaron Dries Sarah Killian: Serial Killer (For Hire!) by Mark Sheldon The Final Cut by Jasper Bark Blackwater Val by William Gorman Pretty Little Dead Girls: A Novel of Murder and Whimsy by Mercedes M. Yardley Nameless: The Darkness Comes by Mercedes M. Yardley

he smiled mischievously, humour in his expression, and she felt a sudden warmth spread through her, seeing a side to him that was endearing. “What is your favourite book Genevieve ?” he asked her as he put a piece of bread and cheese in his mouth. “I tend to read books on ghosts and things like that.” He laughed, “Why?” “I guess it’s the mystery of the unknown, the fascination of whether it’s true or not.” “I see what you mean. Everyone loves a good mystery don’t they? Especially to things that we can never really know the truth about.” He looked at her perceptively. Again she felt as though his words held hidden meaning and guilt flooded her at the thought of her true intentions.

Her curiosity about the writer behind such a captivating book was driving her crazy, but no matter how hard she scoured, she still found next to nothing. Determined, she bit the bullet and decided to read the author's other two mystery novels, even though she didn't expect much. They were written over a decade ago, after all, and were probably outdated. To her surprise, she got hooked again! She was furious and amazed at the same time! Over the course of a week, she devoured all of Mindy's novels. Apart from that one cheesy youth romance novel that was awful, every other mystery thriller was more gripping than the last.

Sleep refused to come. My mind felt restless. Maybe there was something in this room that could help me remember. Slowly, I stood up. I began looking around. The bookshelf immediately caught my attention. Dozens of books filled the shelves. I pulled several out. There were history books, pack law books and training manuals. Then I noticed something else. There were fiction novels; thrillers, mysteries and crime novels. I blinked. Apparently, I enjoyed those. "I don't remember reading any of these."