Silence In The Library

เขากลับมาแล้ว The Death Painter ฆาตกรต่อเนื่องอัจฉริยะ ผู้ทิ้งศพเป็นงานศิลป์สุดสยอง ไม่มีร่องรอย ไม่มีคำบอกลา…มีเพียงความตายที่งดงามและน่าขนลุก

I receive a message one day. "Your condoms have been delivered. Total to be paid: XX dollars." I distinctly remember that I've never made such an order, but the address and phone number are mine. I call my husband, but he only says differently, "My godsister ordered them. She's too shy to use her details, so she used yours. It's not like it'll affect you." I nod silently. She might as well not have them if she can't afford to pay for them.

Lorsque Lana Raymond revient à Tamatave pour l’enterrement de son père adoptif, elle ne se doute pas qu’un passé enterré depuis vingt ans est sur le point de refaire surface. Une lettre laissée derrière lui révèle un secret déchirant : son vrai père a été assassiné, et une société secrète appelée le Cercle de la Lune tire les ficelles depuis l’ombre. Lana Raymond ,n'est plus seulement une fille en deuil. Elle est l’héritière d’un mystère sanglant et d'une fortune maudite. Entre trahisons, mensonges familiaux, et menaces invisibles, elle devra remonter la piste d’un complot qui dépasse sa propre histoire… et survivre à ceux qui feraient tout pour que le silence reste intact. Devra-t-elle reprendre le flambeau ou fuir? pourra-t-elle reprendre le cours de ça vie ou serait-ce impossible? Et si la vérité tuait plus sûrement que le mensonge ?

Grace Hale was raised to be untouchable—the flawless daughter of New York’s most powerful mayor, trained to smile, obey, and survive in silence. Dean Moretti didn’t believe in untouchable. He ruled the city from the shadows, a ruthless mafia heir whose world was built on blood, control, and calculated violence. When he decided Grace would be his wife, it was meant to be a transaction—leverage, protection, necessity. But Grace wasn’t fragile. And she wasn’t obedient. The closer Dean came, the more her perfect image fractured, revealing a woman bound by secrets, fear, and a loyalty that was slowly killing her. Desire ignited where it shouldn’t have. Lines blurred where power once ruled. And obsession turned dangerous when possession began to feel like devotion. Grace and Dean were pushed into a marriage they didn't completely understand, which had the potential to either free or destroy them. Because love blossomed in the dark, it demanded everything rather than asking for permission.

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Janine Swettenham, returned to the pack, alone and heavily pregnant. To protect her reputation, Aiden Monroe decided to mark her. I asked him in disbelief, "What about me? What about our baby?" He just shrugged and said, "Janine’s not like you. I’m the only family she has left. She can’t handle the gossip. Just wait for me. Once she has the baby, I’ll mark you." However, Aiden forgot that I don’t have any family either. While the entire pack mocked and slandered me for being pregnant out of wedlock, Aiden was by Janine’s side, holding her hand through every hospital visit. That’s when I finally understood that some favoritism didn’t need a reason. I left in fury. Then, the accident happened. I lost the baby. Broken and numb, I chose to walk away from it all. I left both him and the pack, vanishing from his world completely. Five years later, I returned, accompanying my mate on a business trip to the Silverglade Pack. Craving the taste of old memories, I went to the pack restaurant alone. I never expected to run into Aiden again. He looked at me with that same cold gaze and said, "You’ve caused enough trouble, haven’t you? The kid must be four by now. Bring him back. He can grow up alongside Janine’s child."

In a world slowly being erased, the quiet is the killer. Ethan Ashworth’s life ended the day the Silence touched him, leaving a smooth, numb patch on his skin and a ghost where his memories used to be. He is one of the Marked—doomed to be hollowed out, unless the hunters of Die Jägerfind him first. His only hope is the Library, a secret sanctuary for those the Silence hasn’t yet consumed. There, he meets Lorenzo Cavalli, a former soldier marked not by emptiness, but by a rage that refuses to be silenced. Their connection is immediate, volatile, and unwanted—a psychic bond forged in shared terror that screams against the quiet. It’s also the one thing the all-consuming Silence cannot stomach. Their bond isn't just a link; it’s a weapon. A wrong note in a world demanding perfect silence. On the run from relentless hunters and a creeping nothingness that eats sound, memory, and soul, Ethan and Lorenzo discover a terrible truth: the Silence isn't random. It's a hunger. And it’s gathering, preparing to swallow the world whole. Their only chance is to turn their unwanted connection into a blade, and walk into the heart of the consuming quiet. To kill a god of silence, you don’t fight with a shout. You fight with a scream that is also a love song.

In the tenth year of my diagnosis with selective mutism, my mother decided it was time to bring home a little brother for me from an orphanage. Her eyes immediately landed on a boy in the back row, but the head of the orphanage opposed without hesitation. "Ms. Lane, this kid has been nothing but trouble since he was small. Just two days ago, he made an old man on crutches play goalie. If you take him home, your life will never be peaceful!" I looked on without the slightest interest. My mother, however, was exhilarated. Pointing at the boy, she declared excitedly, "Then, he's exactly the one I want!" And suddenly, lines of bullet comments scrolled before me. 'The mom cracks me up. Her eyes practically sparkled like spotlights.' 'Our brooding female lead grew up friendless. Her mom's been worrying about that for years. Now she's found this rascal, there's no way she's letting go.' 'Honestly, fate is wild. The mom instantly picks her future son-in-law. In their past lives, the female lead died trying to save him. Now that they've both been reborn, maybe they'll finally get a second chance together.'

Promise was born into silence — a silence woven from an oath made before she could speak. Her village called it tradition. Her mother called it survival. But to Promise, it was a prison. She dreamed of Lagos, of lights and cameras, of a life that stretched beyond clay walls and whispered fears. Yet when the truth of her birth is revealed, everything she longs for seems impossibly far. The elders insist she must never leave. Her mother pleads with her to stay. And the weight of generations threatens to bury her voice. Between love and loyalty, fear and freedom, Promise must choose whether to surrender to a curse or defy it — even if it means breaking her world apart. The Girl Who Broke the Silence is a sweeping tale of tradition and defiance, of love and survival. It is the story of one girl’s fight to claim her name in a world that tried to silence her.

Août 2018, sans s’annoncer, Éric s’arrête au Conssé, l’affaire de quelques minutes... Le Conssé ? Cela fait quinze ans, qu’il n’y a pas mis les pieds ! La vieille maison appartient à Clémentine de Boisin. À quatre-vingt-dix-huit ans, bon-pied, bon-œil, « Tante Clém » est l’âme de la demeure. L’été, elle y accueille sa famille. Le reste de l’année, elle y vit retirée au milieu des souvenirs. Une photo datée de 1942, retrouvée par accident, s’invite. Que vient faire ici, le mystérieux sourire figé sur pellicule, issu d’une époque troublée ? Face à Éric, la porte du grenier s’entrouvre... Emmanuel de Scorraille , diplômé de l’enseignement supérieur, est un romancier passionné d’histoire, de culture et de littérature. Le silence de la terre est une fiction historique, inspirée de l’actualité. « Que s’est-il passé le 27 novembre 2018 ? »

Ma demi-sœur m’a accusée à tort d’être responsable de ses allergies, et, dans un accès de rage, mes trois frères m’ont enfermée dans une cave exiguë, sans lumière ni air. Ils ont même enchaîné la porte. J’ai frappé la porte de la cave, suppliant de toutes mes forces qu’on me laisse sortir. Alors que le frère aîné, un homme d’affaires d’élite, s’apprêtait à partir, une froide colère se lisait sur son visage : « Tu as l’habitude de maltraiter Zoé dans de petites histoires, mais je n’ai pas l’intention de t’embêter pour ça. Cette fois, tu savais que Zoé était allergique aux fruits de mer, et malgré cela, tu l’as laissée en manger. N’est-ce pas là une malveillance délibérée ? Tu ferais bien de réfléchir à ce que tu as fait ! » Le deuxième frère, récemment couronné Roi des Chants, et le troisième, un peintre talentueux, ont grogné : « Une personne aussi perfide que toi, qui trouve toujours des excuses, tu vas rester là-dedans, et que cela te serve de leçon ! » Après avoir dit ces mots, ils ont pris ma demi-sœur, tremblante, dans leurs bras et se sont précipités à l’hôpital. Peu à peu, l’air dans la cave se raréfiait. Chaque respiration devenait un combat. La suffocation m’a envahie, et bientôt, tout ce que j’avais ressenti s’est transformé en un calme absolu. Je suis morte, seule, dans cet espace clos. Trois jours plus tard, lorsqu’ils sont revenus de l’hôpital avec ma demi-sœur, ils se sont souvenus enfin de moi. Mais ils ont ignoré que, dans l’obscurité de cette cave étouffante, j’avais déjà succombé au manque d’oxygène.