Fiction Books

n their ship just beyond the orbit of Mars the two aliens sat looking at each other. "No," Riuku said. "I haven't had any luck. And I can tell you right now that I'm not going to have any, and no one else is going to have any either. The Earthmen are too well shielded." "You contacted the factory?" Nagor asked. "Easily. It's the right one. The parking lot... more...

SUEZ In the State of Dixie, County of Clearwater, and therefore in the very heart of what was once the "Southern Confederacy," lies that noted seat of government of one county and shipping point for three, Suez. The pamphlet of a certain land company—a publication now out of print and rare, but a copy of which it has been my good fortune to secure—mentions the battle of Turkey Creek as... more...

Western Novels by ZANE GREY Desert GoldSunset PassForlorn RiverTo the Last ManMajesty's RanchoRiders of the Purple SageThe Vanishing AmericanNevadaWilderness TrekCode of the WestThe Thundering HerdFighting Caravans30,000 on the HoofThe Hash Knife OutfitThunder MountainThe Heritage of the DesertUnder the Tonto RimKnights of the RangeWestern UnionThe Lost Wagon TrainShadow on the TrailThe Mysterious... more...

THE LONELY DANCER I had no heart to join the dance,  I danced it all so long ago—Ah! light-winged music out of France,  Let other feet glide to and fro,Weaving new patterns of romance  For bosoms of new-fallen snow. But leave me thus where I may hear  The leafy rustle of the waltz,The shell-like murmur in my ear,  The silken whisper fairy-falseOf unseen rainbows circling... more...

CHAPTER I. AN ENCOUNTER. Juarez was sleepy, very sleepy. He had been traveling on a railroad train for several days, and while ordinarily he could adapt himself to circumstances, traveling by car instead of having a soothing influence as it does with some, seemed to keep him awake. He was thoroughly tired out, and was standing, just now, when our story opens, on dark and lonesome dock in San Francisco.... more...

CHAPTER I. THE OLD HOUSE BY THE MILL. 'Mid the New England hills, and beneath the shadow of their dim old woods, is a running brook whose deep waters were not always as merry and frolicsome as now; for years before our story opens, pent up and impeded in their course, they dashed angrily against their prison walls, and turned the creaking wheel of an old sawmill with a sullen, rebellious roar. The... more...

CHAPTER I THE WRECKING BOSS News of the wreck at Smoky Creek reached Medicine Bend from Point of Rocks at five o’clock. Sinclair, in person, was overseeing the making up of his wrecking train, and the yard, usually quiet at that hour of the morning, was alive with the hurry of men and engines. In the trainmaster’s room of the weather-beaten headquarters building, nicknamed by railroad men “The... more...

The Tales of the Crusaders was determined upon as the title of the following series of the Novels, rather by the advice of the few friends whom, death has now rendered still fewer, than by the author's own taste. Not but that he saw plainly enough the interest which might be excited by the very name of the Crusaders, but he was conscious at the same time that that interest was of a character which... more...

SOME TIME!   From the obscurity of vast, unquiet distance the surf came booming in with the heavy impetus of high tide, flinging long streamers of kelp and bits of driftwood over the narrowing stretch of sand where garishly costumed bathers had lately shrieked hilariously at their gambols. Before the chill wind that had risen with the turn of the tide the bathers retreated in dripping, shivering... more...

Chapter I. THE BEACH. A coach-and-six, as a rule, may be called an impressive Object.But something depends on where you see it. Viewed from the tall cliffs—along the base of which, on a strip of beach two hundred feet below, it crawled between the American continent and the Atlantic Ocean—Captain Oliver Vyell's coach-and-six resembled nothing so nearly as a black-beetle. For that matter the... more...