Short Mystery Novels Novels & Stories

I didn't know what to type, I just stared at his last message. Mystery man: So you are also a writer on Goodnovel, share me the l**k to your book. I will like to check it out. Me: Just type in itchy fingers or either My daughter's Nanny or Yes, master in the search space. I have two books on the platform, you can check any out. Mystery man: My daughter's Nanny? Is it romance? Me: Yes, of course. A mafia romance. Mystery man: I can tell you are an hopeless romantic.

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.

It was a text from an unknown number. I opened it, my hands trembling. It was a picture. A picture of me, standing in front of Eavon's car, the very same night Orion died. My face was a mask of shock and terror, and in the background, a woman with a dog was pointing at me, her mouth open in a scream. The text below the picture read: I can give you the answers you're looking for. Meet me tomorrow at the old lighthouse at midnight. Come ALONE.

"You got something, Blackwood? Because right now, 'ritual killer' is all we've got, and that's not exactly narrowing the suspect pool in a city this size." "The wounds aren't made by conventional weapons," she said carefully. "And the positioning of the bodies suggests knowledge of old religious practices. I have contacts who might help identify the symbols." Rick glanced at her, surprise briefly crossing his features. In three years as partners, she'd never mentioned specialized contacts. "Do it," Mendoza ordered. "And keep it quiet. Last thing we need is panic about satanic cults or whatever the hell this is." If only it were that simple, Casie thought.

But nothing seemed to match the symbol on my door. Frustrated, I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. There had to be something here, some clue that I was missing. I glanced at the stack of books beside me, my eyes landing on one that looked older and more worn than the others. Its leather cover was cracked and faded, the title barely legible: *The Mysteries of Silverwood.* I pulled the book closer and opened it carefully. The pages were brittle, the text handwritten in an elegant script. As I flipped through the pages, a passage caught my eye:

Ruby was already asleep by the time I got back to the apartment, and I was glad for that because I wasn’t in the mood to answer any more questions tonight. I definitely didn’t think I was going to be able to sleep tonight. I couldn’t stop thinking about Joseph and those images I had seen. It was all so strange, and it couldn’t just be a coincidence. I grabbed my laptop and started searching the web for similar cases. After only a little research, I found some articles that describe similar murders in the area. These were the type of mysterious cases that the Nightwalker police would take care of and there were quite a few news articles on the topic.

Hi friends, First I would like to thank you for choosing my book. This is my first attempt to write a supernatural story. I want to insist you guys bear with me and go on until the end because then only you will see all the mysteries getting solved and everything fall in its place. You might find my characters irritating at some point of time but there is the reason for such behaviour which will be revealed over the period of time.

what i saw inside shocked me to death Every truth about Mrs Hareite and Sarahs' existence was written there But then..it seems like some things were added and the words were manipulated How did my book even develope legs..? As i was thinking..a thought came into my mind of last time When i didn't see my book at it's position in my room and was about checking it before Nina came in-- Oh My god! Nina must have taken it and edited it..whatever it is she edited, I'm sure her name was in it

But I haven't been able to make up my mind about it yet, so I'm still on the fence. "Web novels?" Miranda repeated in surprise. "What kind of web novels?" Mindy smiled awkwardly. "Urban romance." Miranda was speechless for a while. Mindy was a published mystery novelist. Back when mystery novels had been all the craze, Mindy made her grand debut with "Murder Weapon" and sold half a million copies. Later in the same year, her follow-up thriller novel, "The Deserted School", broke her personal sales record in a very short time as well.

Author’s POV: A mysterious lake: A small town away from California. People of the town have been seeing this pond over 100 years. But yet they know nothing about that lake like who created it and who is using this.!! Most surprising matter is the water label of that lake never changed and the water is fresh as always. The lake area is restricted and there is a boundary covering the lake. People say that few deaths incident occurred who entered into that area. Some used to say that this is somehow connected to the electric power plant which is around two kilometers away from the lake. But none knew how and why this is connected to that electric power plant.