New York Times Best Sellers Fantasy นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I could feel his presence at my back—tall, warm, the faint rustle of his cassock as he moved closer. I kept reading, line after line about denying the body, about offering suffering to God, about the dangers of self-indulgence. My voice shook on the parts about “touching oneself in secret” and “fantasies that defile the soul.” By the time I reached the end of the first page I was breathing faster, nipples tight against my dress, the ache between my legs worse than it had been all day. Father Chris stepped around the table so I could see him. He leaned down, one hand resting on the open book, the other hanging loose at his side. His eyes locked on mine.

Until dawn crept through the curtains. Until the package arrived. Until tomorrow became today. And the fantasy The forbidden, addictive, all-consuming fantasy Became forever. Fade out on the snow. On two new passports lying open on the dresser. On two gold bands glinting in the wea k morning light. On her moan soft, satisfied as he whispered against her skin: “The fantasy never has to end.”

His tongue was black, impossibly long, It flicked out, tasting the air. “I know about your girlfriend. The blonde with the freckles. She tastes like cheap lies and cheaper wine.” My back hit the wall. Cornered. He was massive, easily eight feet tall, but he moved with this terrifying grace. “What do you want?” I whispered. His smile was all sharp white teeth against dark skin. “A better deal. Your body, whenever I want it, however I want it, for as long as I crave you. In return, I’ll give you power that’ll make other witches piss themselves with envy. And I’ll help you destroy Elara so completely she’ll beg for the mercy of death.”

"This gives us plenty of time." I led Andrew through the towering shelves, a testament to countless stories waiting to be discovered. "This," I began, gesturing grandly to a section filled with vibrant covers, "is our fantasy section. It's surprisingly popular, even with the rise of e-readers." He listened with a deep, focused interest, his eyes scanning the spines as I spoke. We moved from genre to genre, me explaining the most sought-after titles, him occasionally pulling out a book and flipping through its pages, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Did fantasy have a bigger grip on her than reality? The morning after Collins had left, she had lain in the bed he had shared, overwhelmingly aware of the empty place beside her, feeling bereft and miserably alone, telling herself she should get up and go to a pharmacy, purchase the pill that would keep her safe. It was the sensible thing to do. Except she'd turned thirty-two this past year, and she couldn't imagine falling in love with another man or accepting second best just to get married and have a family. If she was ever to have a child, she wanted Collins Templeton to be the father.

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.”

Nor had she ever seen such an eclectic collection of oddities. She picked up a pair of boots, vinyl, with a huge, plastic zipper. A vague memory of a porn film she had accidentally flipped on one late night flashed through her mind. Dominatrix, she believed it was called. She dropped the boots and sank onto a little bench sitting against the wall across from the racks of costumes. Fantasies. She had never had a sexual fantasy. All her sexual thoughts had always centered on Steve and their quiet sex life. All she had ever wanted was his hands on her, his lips telling her the things she wanted to hear.

Seeking Deeper Fantasy is set in Stark city, where Corey Lawson, a 31 years old faces challenges as he discovers that the woman he is in love with, Kisha Prime, is the reason his whole childhood became a nightmare. Driven by resilience, he takes Legacy Woodwork to a greater height. Kisha Prime, a 25 years old, raised by her stepfather Morgan Lawson, the man who abandons his family to be with his one true love, Marla. Sharing deep memories together of life, but unfortunately are not allowed to be together because of the hatred between both families. Robert Prime, deeply in love with Marla orchestrated a wedge between Morgan and Marla by getting married to her against her will. Mor

Fantasy fodder for late-night scrolling. But the card felt real between her fingers. And the ache it sparked low in her belly was very real. She went. The address led her to an unmarked steel door in an alley downtown. A man in a tailored black suit checked her name against a tablet, eyes lingering appreciatively on the dress she’d chosen—deep crimson silk that clung to every curve, slit high enough to flash thigh with each step, neckline plunging just enough to make her feel dangerously exposed. He nodded once. The door opened.

Damn one man couldn't get enough of it. Damien went out onto the porch with his cell phone to check his messages. The store where reading today wanted him to confirm he had made it to town, which he did. A message from his agent said that his new release, for the first time, had appeared on the list of The New York Times Fiction Best Sellers, at number twenty-five. The promotional efforts of American publisher had given results. A NYT bestselling author. What about this? This was definitely your lucky day.