Literary thrillers

A Shocking Verdict. A Stigmatized Husband.A Woman’s Ruthless Quest for Justice. Valeria Brinton has just married the love of her life, Eustace Woodville, believing a future of absolute happiness awaits them.

A Stolen Name. A Shattered Fortune. A Woman Bound for Ruthless Vengeance. Magdalen Vanstone has everything a young Victorian woman could dream of: wealth, a loving family

A Fatal Loophole. A Stolen Identity. A Marriage Turned Into a Legal Nightmare. Step into the rigid, unforgiving world of Victorian high society, where a single spoken promise can bind you in chains forever.

Beyond the Borders of Reason. Five Journeys into Cosmic Dread. Prepare to lose yourself in the vast, untamed wilderness of the human psyche and the universe itself. Algernon Blackwood, a founding father of modern supernatural fiction.

A Dying Confession. A Haunted Mansion. A Secret That Refuses to Stay Buried. Deep within the crumbling, desolate walls of Porthgenna Tower, a wealthy noblewoman lies on her deathbed.

HOW DO YOU LEAVE SOMEONE YOU LOVE ... WHEN THEY SLOWLY DESTROY YOU? This is not just a story. It is a mirror for those who have lived it. And a wake-up call for those who haven’t.

There was a hint in it of laughter, but of a laughter more terrible than any sadness—a laughter that was mirthless as the smile of the sphinx, a laughter cold as the frost and partaking of the grimness of infallibility.

When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression.

It was in Reno, Nevada, in the summer of 1892. Also, it was fair-time, and the town was filled with petty crooks and tin-horns, to say nothing of a vast and hungry horde of hoboes. It was the hungry hoboes that made the town a "hungry" town.

The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.

After the mission ended, Salva wanted nothing more than to continue fighting for justice. And now he got that chance. An attack on his mysterious client leads to Salva being identified as the perpetrator. That is when the problems really start...

This story has its beginnings in the town of Alexandria, Illinois, between 1884 and 1889, at the time when the place had a population of somewhere near ten thousand.

“The Blazing World”, is a Description of a New World, Called The Blazing-World, better known as The Blazing World, is a 1666 work of prose fiction by English writer Margaret Cavendish, the Duchess of Newcastle.

Ben Jonson came of the stock that was centuries after to give to the world Thomas Carlyle; for Jonson's grandfather was of Annandale, over the Solway, whence he migrated to England. Jonson's father lost his estate under Queen Mary, "having been cast into

Crime Island is an intense police thriller mixing behind closed doors, survival and mystery. Former Inspector Julius Bald survives on an isolated island with 112 survivors. But a killer strikes. Murders, secrets and paranoia: Bald must solve the investiga

Have you ever found yourself in a no-win situation? A young Greg encountered a mysterious stranger who urged him to steal a Vatican relic on display at his friend’s church. If he refused, he would endanger the lives of his loved ones.

The hotel and its bright tan prayer rug of a beach were one. In the early morning the distant image of Cannes, the pink and cream of old fortifications, the purple Alp that bounded Italy, were cast across the water and lay quavering in the ripples..

A contemporary urban drama exploring psychological life struggles, everyday pressure, loss, and the emotional journey of ordinary people trying to survive modern city hardship. A realistic, character‑driven story about how quiet moments and hidden battl

It was supposed to be the best Summer job of all time. It became the most dangerous ever...

Some years ago I, the editor, was stopping with a friend, "vir doctissimus et amicus neus," at a certain University, which for the purposes of this history we will call Cambridge, and was one day much struck with the appearance of two persons.

This book is merely a personal narrative, and not a pretentious history or a philosophical dissertation. It is a record of several years of variegated vagabondizing, and its object is rather to help the resting reader while away an idle hour than afflict

A room in the down-stairs of a summer cottage. High around the wall runs an art frieze of a fisherman with a pile of nets at his feet and a ship on a crimson ocean, a fisherman with a pile of nets at his feet and a ship on a crimson ocean.

The figures in this boat were those of a strong man with ragged grizzled hair and a sun-browned face, and a dark girl of nineteen or twenty, sufficiently like him to be recognizable as his daughter.

Yet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yet remained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful and quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the world's bloody battle).

The joyous, exhilarating call of the wilderness and the forest camp is surely and steadily penetrating through the barriers of brick, stone, and concrete; through the more or less artificial life of town and city; and the American girl is listening eagerl

At St Gabriel’s Hospice, Room 27 is whispered about: patients enter and die quickly, often after strange dreams. Young intern Anna senses its weight, while chaplain and volunteer navigate the delicate, haunting rhythm of care, faith, and unseen presence

Yes, it was Grace, who, in her sprightliest manner, her face aglow from the invigorating breezes of an April afternoon, called out, “Ah there, girls! How are you? Oh, my lucky star must have guided me, for I have something thrilling to tell you!”

Jack Carter came west carrying more dead than any saddle ought to bear. Haunted by war, grief, and the things he could not save, he rides into the hard country of New Mexico Territory hoping distance might do what time never could: bury the past. But the

Caius Felix Crispus is no senator, no general, no hero sung by Rome. He is a gatekeeper, a soldier-scribe, a careful man with a wax tablet in his hand and a talent for counting what others overlook: names, trades, children, the fragile threads that hold a

The thunder of the jets died away, the sound drifting wistfully off into the hills. The leaves that swirled in the air returned to the ground slowly, reluctantly. The rocket had gone. Aron Myers realized that he was looking at nothing.