Fiction
- Action & Adventure 183
- Alternative History 1
- Biographical 15
- Christian 59
- Classics 6965
- Coming of Age 5
- Contemporary Women 3
- Erotica 8
- Espionage/Intrigue 12
- Fairy Tales, Folklore & Mythology 236
- Family Life 169
- Fantasy 118
- Gay 1
- General 596
- Ghost 32
- Historical 809
- Horror 43
- Humorous 161
- Jewish 25
- Legal 4
- Literary 1
- Medical 23
- Mystery & Detective 315
- Occult 1
- Political 49
- Psychological 41
- Religious 64
- Romance 161
- Sagas 11
- Science Fiction 730
- Sea Stories 113
- Short Stories (single author) 539
- Sports 10
- Suspense 2
- Technological 8
- Thrillers 3
- Urban Life 31
- Visionary & Metaphysical 1
- War & Military 173
- Westerns 199
Fiction Books
Sort by:
CHAPTER I.LORD DOLPHIN INTRODUCES HIMSELFNow who ever heard of a fish's sitting up and telling his own story! Oh, you needn't laugh, you young Folks, perhaps you will find that I can make out very well, considering. Of course I have been among "Folks," else I could never use your language or know anything about you and your ways. A message is not received direct from the depths of the...
more...
by:
Warwick Goble
CHAPTER IOnceupon a time there was a little chimney-sweep, and his name was Tom. That is a short name, and you have heard it before, so you will not have much trouble in remembering it. He lived in a great town in the North country, where there were plenty of chimneys to sweep, and plenty of money for Tom to earn and his master to spend. He could not read nor write, and did not care to do either; and...
more...
by:
Alice Carsey
CHAPTER I THE PIECE OF WOOD THAT LAUGHED AND CRIED LIKE A CHILD There was once upon a time a piece of wood in the shop of an old carpenter named Master Antonio. Everybody, however, called him Master Cherry, on account of the end of his nose, which was always as red and polished as a ripe cherry. No sooner had Master Cherry set eyes on the piece of wood than his face beamed with delight, and, rubbing...
more...
by:
Margaret Arndt
INTRODUCTORY POEM"The stories that the fairies told I learnt in English lanes of old, Where honeysuckle, wreathing high, Twined with the wild rose towards the sky, Or where pink-tinged anemones Grew thousand starred beneath the trees. I saw them, too, in London town, But sly and cautious, glancing down, Where in the grass the crocus grow And ladies ride in Rotten Row, St James's...
more...
by:
Mark Twain
CHAPTER I. June 18—. Squire Hawkins sat upon the pyramid of large blocks, called the "stile," in front of his house, contemplating the morning. The locality was Obedstown, East Tennessee. You would not know that Obedstown stood on the top of a mountain, for there was nothing about the landscape to indicate it—but it did: a mountain that stretched abroad over whole counties, and rose very...
more...
by:
Jesse Torrey
"And he that stealeth a man, and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, shall surely be put to death." Exodus xxi. 16. 1. Throughout this work I have numbered the paragraphs, a practice which I find to be attended with numerous advantages. The work was published in Philadelphia in 1817. 2. The reader will perceive, that Mr. Torrey, the author of the work here presented to the public, has...
more...
by:
Hal K. Wells
Benjamin Marlowe and his young assistant, Larry Powell, opened the door of the Marlowe laboratory, then stopped aghast at the sight which greeted their startled eyes. There on the central floor-plate directly in the focus of the big atomic projector stood the slender figure of Joan Marlowe, old Benjamin Marlowe’s niece and Larry Powell’s fiancee. The girl had apparently only been awaiting their...
more...
Two lovers, once upon a time, had planned a little summer-house, in the form of an antique temple, which it was their purpose to consecrate to all manner of refined and innocent enjoyments. There they would hold pleasant intercourse with one another, and the circle of their familiar friends; there they would give festivals of delicious fruit; there they would hear lightsome music, intermingled with the...
more...
by:
Matthew Arnold
I [Sidenote: Life and Personality] "The gray hairs on my head are becoming more and more numerous, and I sometimes grow impatient of getting old amidst a press of occupations and labor for which, after all, I was not born. But we are not here to have facilities found us for doing the work we like, but to make them." This sentence, written in a letter to his mother in his fortieth year,...
more...
by:
Thomas Fogarty
All my life I had dreamed of owning a brook ust below the brow of the hill one of the traces broke (it was in the horse-and-wagon days of a dozen years or so ago), and, if our driver had not been a prompt man our adventure might have come to grief when it was scarcely begun. As it was, we climbed on foot to the top, and waited while he went into a poor old wreck of a house to borrow a string for...
more...