The category of "mystery fiction" may sometimes be limited to the subset of detective stories in which the emphasis is on the puzzle/suspense element and its logical solution, as a contrast to hardboiled detective stories, which focus on action and gritty realism.
A minor cultist writes down his last thoughts in a final, so-called moment of truth, before he ends up just like one of Lovecraft's originals did. Long before the Call of Cthulhu & Trail of Cthulhu roleplaying games were ever written...
" It is the fifth of April in the year 2015. I a m writing this in a hurry, as a certain pressure makes me expect to be seriously distracted soon. I will be killed within the hour. My name is Morton Bryce. I am the son of Walton T. Bryce and Emma-Maria Whateley. While many would have called me a hopeless scoundrel, a vagabond, and a seriously outclassed small-scale criminal, such had never been my true calling...
Fue´n día de Navidad cuando entró a mi cubículo el teniente de polizía Juan Franzisco Alomar, cordinador de la Sexión d´ Omizidios de l´Estazión Polizial Metropolitana del Valle de Sula. Como era su zafia costumbre, se azercó a mí, c´estaba a´lado de mi colega Pedro Asturias, i me vio con acella su malizia i escasa buena voluntad.
As a young child of eight, I was taken aboard an alien spacecraft and shown scrolls, inside a pyramid, that have yet to be discovered. The Alien Connection has remained with me over the years, for I have had follow up visitations and have witnessed many sightings, since my encounter in my youth. This book will take you through my childhood in England, with my experience of being taken aboard a spaceship. Then continue on to the war years where my visions saved me fr...
“What do you mean people from other planets? There are none! You say they walk amongst us, that we descended from other planets long ago. That some could be scientists, others also in high positions, far more intelligent, more advanced in every way than us. What nonsense.” “How long have you known them? What! They show their way of life in dreams and talk to you sometimes. But only things of importance. Hmmm.” He moved restlessly in his chair, hoping her gaze at on...
¨Fabio amicum, vendit: interdum et lumen deficere tendit, semper luceat.¨ Ernesto Dosamantes había escuchado cuando era niño esta frase: «Que los nacidos y los que están por nacer sepan que hemos venido para vencer y no para ser vencidos». Alentadora frasecita, se dijo estando adolescente y azotado por las hormonas y el sarcasmo, ¿quién habrá sido el imbécil que la compondría? ¿Otro perdedor acaso? Con lástima más que amargura, ya hombre, había cogido sus tenis r...
I was standing at the variety store checkout counter when you entered the store. You were wearing a ski-mask that covered your entire face except your eyes. You had a handgun in your right hand and a bag in the left making your intentions absolute.
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Three Tales To Thrill You By Donald Harry Roberts
A must read
The last thing I remember was a sharp, excruciating pain in the back of my head that shot downward all the way to my feet, rattling my toes. Then the lights went out! When I came to, I found myself lying face down in a thick puddle of gunk and grunge that smelled like the city sewer in mid-July after a week long heat wave. I had been snooping around in an alley-way downtown, a little before sunset. It was dark now, except for a dim light coming through a smudged window t...
the Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washinton Irving: in Swedish Legenden om Slummerdalen the Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washinton irving: På svenska Swedish translation: John Karlsson
Han var lång och ytterst mager, med smala axlar, långa armar och ben, händer som dinglade en mil utanför skjortärmarna, fötter som kunde ha tjänat som skyfflar, hela hans kropp hängde löst ihop. Hans huvud var litet och platt på toppen, med stora öron, stora gröna glansiga ögon, och en näsa, lika lång som näbben på en morkulla, vilken påminde om en vindflöjel, uppflugen på hans spindellika hals för att visa vilket håll vinden blåste på. Om man såg honom kliva omkring, mo...
Can you meet again after two hundred years? Science denies the possibility. Iris is a scientist, but when she finds herself in the pages of an antique book her certainties are breached and the boundaries between imagination and reality become dangerously labile.
Once upon a time I had found a book, old and dusty, in a small shop of curiosities of all sorts. I was drawn to the book although I cannot ascertain the rationale for my attraction, perhaps it was the scarlet cover, perhaps the title, “Egyptian pharaohs: an unusual odyssey of chemical mysteries”, perhaps something else. Here, I still have it on my shelves. Let me blow the dust off it and find the words that now echo in my mind... ...The echo of the time flows eternall...
Live for God. Live for your mother. Die for your gang. When Mexican drug cartels fight for control along the border, Juarez becomes the murder capital of the world. In El Paso, Texas it's drug business as usual: a grifter sets out to buy her freedom, a car salesman runs drugs to make his fortune, a gang leader battles to rise among the ranks of the cartel, and a detective and his wife are ripped apart by a family secret. Everyone's fate lies in the hands of an old wom...
R.W. Preston has studied the work of former police man and now professional investigator of people gone missing in parks around the United States Mr. David Paulidis. Paulidis began a vigorous campaign on investigating the anomaly-disappearances of 411 people who were never found. Mammoth parks such as Yellowstone and Yosemite openly refused to cooperate with Paulidis - even after receiving Freedom of Information Act requests. The storyline in my book takes aim at Yellows...
Luke Gilroy had regrets for going on the outback trek alone. His feet pained him from deep in the muscle core. And the backpack that was tightly fastened made his neck cramp and his lower back throb. He was a green horn spectator in one of the greatest parks in the world, and deep in the wilderness of Yellowstone. It was a day of hiking Silver Lake country all by himself. To not only learn the lay of the land, but to find what might be a crime scene. As the sun began to ...
A mystery that's really only a mystery to the main protagonist. It's a perverted kind of fun to watch him flounder. Contact me at R1234J@hotmail.com
Any mystery writer knows that in every clever design there must be at least one unforeseen element that when discovered will bring down the perpetrator’s entire house of cards in such an ironic fashion that it can neatly epitomize the ludicrousness of any mere human being trying to arrange God’s universe. This item is to be discovered by God’s designated instrument, the good guy detective, of course. In this way, the solution is predetermined, as if time is made to run...
Comic mystery novel in which Calvin Scott, the world's least successful freelance writer, finds himself in South Korea chasing a story, a pretty blonde and a killer all at the same time.
Armed with little more than a sardonic sense of humour and a 9mm Browning, Florida news reporter turned private eye Rex Fowler and on-again off-again love interest police officer Lara Travis set off in search of dead conmen, crooked cops and buried treasure.
Who could have poisoned Ranjit the realtor, Shakeel the Inspector, Pravar the criminal and Natya his accomplice? Well the needle of suspicion tilted towards Pravar that was till he perished with his mate, but then who was the one? Could it be Radha under the scanner for her role in the death of her husband Madhu and his mistress Mala, Pravar's sister? Or was it Ranjit's spouse Kavya, who owing to Stockholm Syndrome, takes to Pravar her kidnapper. As these deaths by ...
That June evening, the crimson sun gave in to the dark monsoon clouds to let them end its long summer reign over the Deccan skies. What with the thickening clouds thundering in triumph, Dhruva woke up from his siesta, and by the time he moved into the portico of his palatial bungalow at 9, Castle Hills, the skies had opened up to shower its sprawling lawns. It was as if the eagerness of the rainfall matched the longing of the parched soil to receive its fertile mate in a...
Pete Erickson has long dreamed of sailing a small boat to Alaska. When he retires, he acts on his dream. It turns into a nightmare when his boyhood rival's jealousy turns into venom. Slen Kuskitt has become a drug lord. He has temporarily abandoned a 42-foot ketch. In it he has hidden a dead body and drugs worth four million dollars. The boat gathers barnacles and moss. Pete buys it at sheriff's auction and reclaims it. Friends trick him into naming it Sexy Lady. Not...
“Mind you now, Marty, you got to hang on for dear life. I knew a fellow once, poor Ansel Wiggins, he got drawed right in the water by a big halibut that weighed a thousand pounds. The fish took the bait, down went the end of the pole, and over the side went poor Ansel. He had store teeth and they fell out when that halibut took the pole down and when Ansel grabbed for his teeth they went over the side and so did the pole and so did Ansel. Teeth and all. We never saw him ...
A man awakens in a mental hospital, accused of murdering his only child, but more uncertain is whether he committed the act as himself or as someone else. Can Richard Ratner uncover who really murdered his daughter and why? Who would want him framed and to suffer for the rest of his life?
Being wheeled down a dreary, dilapidated hall, Rick Ratner’s head bobbed up and down onto his shoulder. He was half conscious but had no idea where or when he was. He had never seen this place before but soon felt himself being strapped to a chair in a dimly lit room. Outside, a tumultuous storm was brewing. Lightning could be seen through the windows of each room Rick passed. The thunder crashed like sonic booms. A tree banged hard against the building, creating...
Credere nelle proprie capacità è l'unica chiave di risposta alle proprie necessità di vita, non ci sono traguardi irragiungibili, non ci sono problemi irrisolvibili. Il personaggio di questo racconto arriva fino in fondo, deciso a dimostrare che la vita pur imprevedibile come il mare puo essere condotta da noi stessi nella direzione giusta. “La vita è un mare, l’uomo ne è il navigatore che va di porto in porto alla ricerca del sogno, del proprio grande sogno. Solo l’u...
“La vita è un mare, l’uomo ne è il navigatore che va di porto in porto alla ricerca del sogno, del proprio grande sogno. Solo l’uomo che crede in quello che cerca sarà navigatore."
“Rozamunda”, is the first story in a series At the Crossroads. Events presented here are not necessarily true, but almost possible. Everything depends on the imagination of the reader. Those, who do not believe in anything, will not like this book and it is directed not to them. But someone who has at least partially awakened imagination, can understand what is going on without asking questions. Such readers I appreciate the most and to them At the Crossroad is dedicate...
It is an intriguing tale and shows the cold business attitude of the drug dealers who plague our streets. The story captivated me immediately, many of the characters appear familiar I would not be at all surprised if some were my neighbours - they appear so normal George Burnson An amazing adventure – one fraught with danger and showing a darker side of life that many do not believe exists. The desire for money and power that the dealers crave is shown in this...
Chapter One Nicola looked down at the mess on the floor; torn cigarette papers, sweet wrappers, shopping receipts and what looks like dirt is now spread out on the floor where Stef, her boyfriend, has emptied his pockets out. Nicola feels her face flushing with anger as she had only cleaned and dusted the whole flat twenty minutes ago! “Stef!!” Nicola shouts. “What ya want?” answers Stef from the other room in a ‘do not bother’ me tone of voice. Stef has a lig...