Teen Mystery Book Novels & Stories

Another grab for the book and some food, then I crossed my legs and opened my reading books while I ate my sandwich heartily. "Are you reading that ham again?" I felt Wynn's gaze more than I saw him. "It can't be that interesting." But she could only say that because she didn't read anything but mindless teen magazines. "I am learning. Give it a try, it's good for your future. "

Just past the first turn, she realised there was no house, no village in front of her, only a long stretch of whiteness bordered by snow-powdered hedges without a telltale rise in smoke in the distance. She didn't dare look up again for a long while. Time lost all meaning as she walked onward, her cheeks stinging, then without feeling, as hints of eventide crept in behind the melancholy December sky. It was then that Betty murmured an almost forgotten prayer from her childhood……...a little something to her guardian Angel begging an entree to paradise. ………………………….. She awoke stretching contentedly. Staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, it took her a few moments to determine where she was, but

I said and she shrugged "So, tell me mom. Let's talk about this now. What is it about Adrian touching that book which makes you so scared?" I said and she looked at me for some time and sat saying "Elsa. This book contain somethings Adrian doesn't need to know if he opens it. It will make him uncontrollable and you'll lose him. Yes, it's a sacred book and it should help him. But they are still some mysteries. If he finds out now. It will only bring more tention between the natural and the supernatural...and hence, the natural will be destroyed in the process...and that's only going to be a disaster that will never end. Except, there's a sealed being--" she stopped not finishing her statement

Flipping open the book randomly, my eyes skimmed over words that made no meaning to me. I turned around as heavy footsteps approached, only to find Yeti balancing a ridiculous amount of books in her arms. “Found some good stuff—” she paused as her eyes strayed to the book I was holding. “What is that?” “A book?” She walked past me, dropping the heaps of books on the table before turning back to me. “Let me see that.” She said, prying the book from my fingers. “Forgotten Beasts: A Study on the Supernatural.

And they better not be hidden too well. Shifting her focus, she moved to the bookshelves, running her fingers along the spines of the books. As much as Henry insisted Jaxon hadn’t set foot in here since she arrived, the furniture was suspiciously clean. ‘Has he been sneaking in here at midnight?’ Isla wondered. The thought seemed a bit far-fetched, but she couldn’t dismiss it entirely. Something was off, and she was determined to figure out what. Her eyes flicked over the books on the shelves—mostly business, crime, and security-related titles. Exactly the kind of reading material she expected to find.

Jenna was browsing through the bookshelves, and an entire morning had passed before she knew it. She didn't find anything suspicious. When she was about to leave the study, she saw a shelf that was covered with a piece of red cloth. She wondered why he had to cover it with a piece of red cloth. Was there anything strange? When she walked towards the shelf, she felt her heart thumping for no reason, as if she would discover some unknown secrets, which made her feel mysterious. She slowly unfolded the red cloth and gasped. It turned out that the stack was not ordinary books but a stack of hardcover notebooks. They looked like diaries, some of which were already old.

With some effort, I managed to push it open, revealing an enormous underground chamber. My breath caught in my throat. The chamber was filled with rows upon rows of old books and scrolls—an ancient library dedicated to werewolf lore and magic. The walls were lined with shelves crammed with forgotten knowledge, and in the center of the room stood a large, intricately carved table covered in tomes and manuscripts. I approached the table, my eyes scanning the titles. Many of the books were written in old, nearly forgotten languages, but one tome caught my attention. It was bound in dark leather, the title barely legible: "The Lament of the Moon."

A water bottle, maybe. Then an old flashlight. A bundle of rusted keys. A tarnished pendant hanging from what might once have been a silver chain. Then a book. I freeze. A name is written across the cover. Jenna Maroney. I stare at it. My uneasiness grows. "Jenna Maroney," I murmur. Slowly, I open the book. It's a journal. The pages are yellowed with age. The first entry dates back more than twenty years. Something cold settles in my chest.

I swallow the lump in my throat and descend. The air down here is cooler, thicker with the smell of leather and dust and secrets. Torches have guttered out, but faint violet light clings to the edges of things—my new sight, maybe, or the contract’s gift. The shadows dance ahead of me, playful almost, skipping along the shelves until they reach a particular bookcase. One tendril stretches, points. A heavy black tome launches itself from the highest shelf and thumps into my waiting hands. I stagger under the weight. The book is bound in leather so dark it drinks the light; no gold leaf, no embossed sigils, just smooth, inky blackness. The title is etched in silver that seems to shift when I ti

The way Ronan looked at me in that cafeteria, like I was a bug under his boot .. I'll never forget it. And I won't let it be the last thing I feel. Most students have gone home, but I stay hidden behind stacks of dusty books. The librarian, Mrs. Chen, doesn't seem to notice me. Or maybe she does and chooses to ignore the broken girl searching for answers. My hands shake as I pull another book from the shelf. "Ancient Werewolf Practices" stares back at me in faded gold letters. The pages smell like old paper and secrets.