Thriller Book Novels & Stories

But before that, I needed to start formulating a plan on how to begin. I spent the rest of the day reading in my room. I had picked up a book written by one of my favorite authors in the thriller genre, Freida McFadden, titled "The Inmate." I had read enough of her books to know that this one would be another hit. I was halfway through the book when I heard a door open. Not even a minute later, mine opened, and I saw Kiara at the door. She looked panicked, and I immediately dropped the book on the bed, got up, and walked up to her.

he says closing the door and giving the key to me. "Alright, can we go now?" "Yeah.." he nods and takes my free hands. Then we walk out of the locker room. Everyone still keeps staring at us. I guess it will continue for a few more days. "What were you reading earlier?" I ask him after I finish drinking the last dregs of the chocolate milk. "Darkest Night, it's the second book in a thriller series. I just started reading it today morning after I reached back home. And I already finished 90 pages."

Blood. Blood was everywhere. Red, sticky, warm, wet blood. A sea of blood. It was everywhere. She could not tell where it ended and where it began. All she knew was that nothing was ever going to be the same again. She could not think straight, her head was pounding as if a thousand nails were being hammered into her skull. Her chest felt like it was going to burst any moment, but tears would not fall. Breathing became an arduous task as she scrambled through the pool of blood in search of a familiar face.

I did a little twirl in the middle of the room and started combing the bookshelves to see what treasures I could find. I was just too excited to have found this place. I came across a smaller leather-bound book that had a weird symbol on the front and when I opened it, I realized that it was a history of the Hunter's. I decided to keep that book just in case I needed it. I was totally in my own world when I felt someone’s arms go around me and breath in my ear. "I see you found my favorite place in the house." My body shivered at the contact. I thought that I was going to melt into a puddle right then and there.

And I treat many people to coffee and tea for free - no need to worry about this. The coffee machine rattled noisily, grinding beans. —Where is your section with horror literature? Thrillers? “Everywhere,” Yuna looked around at all the shelves in her field of vision. — We have a shop with a narrow specialization, there is practically no popular literature, especially sentimental prose, women’s fantasy and ironic detective stories. But there is a variety of alternatives, horror, mysticism, thrillers, dystopias. In general, we buy everything that other stores take for testing sales. With second-hand books, things are similar.

But that was a bad idea. And he needed something to occupy his thoughts other than musing about what kind of underwear a woman like that would wear beneath her rather frumpy clothes. In the end he forced himself to read a thriller—grateful for the novel’s rapid pace, which somehow seemed to suck him into an entirely believable story of a one-time lap dancer successfully nailing a high-profile banker for fraud. He was so engrossed in the tale that Pamela’s voice startled him, and he looked up to find her standing over him, her face all pink and shiny.

The sick bastard had left him alive even as he’d buried him, left him to die slowly so he would have time to think about how badly he’d failed. The faces of Blackwell’s other known victims played through his mind like a film on an endless loop, each one of the eighteen crying out for revenge. North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, New York, Long Island, Connecticut. He’d made it his career to follow Blackwell up and down the East Coast, transferring from department to department over the years.

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

Tonight, though, he did not want to take the pill. He wanted to confront what has been keeping him awake. He inhaled sharply, then shut his eyes. Instantly, the familiar scenes of bodies in his home were seen. The wounds on Lucinda and her friend and the writing on his wall. The writing from RD himself, in a handwriting that was too neat. For a trained killer, though, he was not surprised. His mind made him explore the bloody place. To imagine the pain the victims must have felt when they were gutted by that demon.

"How could you even think that about me? Yeah, I survived, but I was a victim, too. And now, just because of one photo, you're calling me a killer? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" I swallowed hard, my voice breaking. "I said I probably fell asleep around 10 PM. I never said I was sure. My head was spinning from the altitude, and I wasn't clear. And come on—I'm just one woman. How the heck could I take out five grown men?" Alex's stare locked onto my face. "Yeah… doesn't seem likely." Just then, the coroner walked in with a fresh report, the pages still smelling like ink. He handed it straight to Alex.