Fiction
- Action & Adventure 180
- Biographical 14
- 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 117
- Gay 1
- General 596
- Ghost 31
- Historical 808
- Horror 42
- Humorous 159
- Jewish 25
- Legal 4
- Medical 22
- Mystery & Detective 314
- Political 49
- Psychological 41
- Religious 64
- Romance 158
- Sagas 11
- Science Fiction 730
- Sea Stories 113
- Short Stories (single author) 537
- Sports 10
- Suspense 1
- Technological 8
- Thrillers 2
- Urban Life 31
- Visionary & Metaphysical 1
- War & Military 173
- Westerns 199
Fiction Books
    Sort by:
    
                by: 
                                Fanny Burney                                
            
        
                                 TO THE AUTHORS OF THE MONTHLY AND CRITICAL REVIEWS. GENTLEMEN, The liberty which I take in addressing to you the trifling production of a few idle hours, will doubtless move your wonder, and probably your contempt. I will not, however, with the futility of apologies, intrude upon your time, but briefly acknowledge the motives of my temerity; lest, by a premature exercise of that patience which I hope...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                                 CHORUS OF WITCHES:The stubble is yellow, the corn is green,Now to the Brocken the witches go;The mighty multitude here may be seenGathering, wizard and witch, below.Sir Urian is sitting aloft in the air; _150Hey over stock! and hey over stone!'Twixt witches and incubi, what shall be done?Tell it who dare! tell it who dare! NOTE: _150 Urian]Urean editions 1824, 1839. A VOICE:Upon a sow-swine, whose...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                by: 
                                Vernon L. McCain                                
            
        
                                 he dehydration of the planet had taken centuries in all. The Rell had still been a great race when the process started. Construction of the canals was a prodigious feat but not a truly remarkable one. But what use are even canals when there is nothing to fill them? What cosmic influences might have caused the disaster baffled even the group-mind of the Rell. Through the eons the atmosphere had drifted...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                                 They had marched more than thirty kilometres since dawn, along the white, hot road where occasional thickets of trees threw a moment of shade, then out into the glare again. On either hand, the valley, wide and shallow, glittered with heat; dark green patches of rye, pale young corn, fallow and meadow and black pine woods spread in a dull, hot diagram under a glistening sky. But right in front the...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                                 CHAPTER I. THE DETECTIVE AND THE BANKER—A REMARKABLE NARRATIVE—A PECULIAR TRAIL—MILLIONS WITH NO OWNER—A GREAT TASK LOOMING UP FOR JACK—A MOMENT OF EXPECTANCY. "Your name is John Alvarez?" "That is my name, sir." An elderly man was seated at a table and a young man stood opposite to him. The elderly person was a well-known banker who had retired from business, and he had sent...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                by: 
                                Fergus Hume                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I. THE LOVERS "I am very angry," pouted the maid. "In heaven's name, why?" questioned the bachelor. "You have, so to speak, bought me." "Impossible: your price is prohibitive." "Indeed, when a thousand pounds—" "You are worth fifty and a hundred times as much. Pooh!" "That interjection doesn't answer my question." "I...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                by: 
                                Hugh Walpole                                
            
        
                                 CHAPTER I Death leapt upon the Rev. Charles Cardinal, Rector of St. Dreots in South Glebeshire, at the moment that he bent down towards the second long drawer of his washhand-stand; he bent down to find a clean collar. It is in its way a symbol of his whole life, that death claimed him before he could find one. At one moment his mind was intent upon his collar; at the next he was stricken with a wild...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                by: 
                                Jennie Hall                                
            
        
                                 THE GREEK SLAVE AND THE LITTLE ROMAN BOY Ariston, the Greek slave, was busily painting. He stood in a little room with three smooth walls. The fourth side was open upon a court. A little fountain splashed there. Above stretched the brilliant sky of Italy. The August sun shone hotly down. It cut sharp shadows of the columns on the cement floor. This was the master's room. The artist was painting...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                by: 
                                David Cory                                
            
        
                                 THE MAGIC WINGSONE morning as little Puss, Junior, on his Good Gray Horse rode through Mother Goose country he saw a spider sitting in her tiny lace house. She kept very still, for the early dewdrops still clung to the delicate web. And as the sun shone down they looked for all the world like diamonds on a piece of lace. So little Puss, Junior, stretched out his paw and, would you believe it, instead...
                                        more...
                                                
        
                                 PROEM. Mendelssohn's "Elijah." [Illustration: (musical notation); lyrics: He, watch-ing o-ver Is—ra—el, slumbers not, nor sleeps.] From the high Cathedral tower the solemn assurance floated forth to be a warning, or a promise, according to the mental state of those whose ears it filled; and the mind, familiar with the phrase, continued it involuntarily, carrying the running...
                                        more...
                                                
         
                 
             
                     
                     
                     
                     
                     
                     
                     
                     
                    