Fiction
- Action & Adventure 184
- Alternative History 1
- Biographical 15
- Christian 59
- Classics 6965
- Coming of Age 5
- Contemporary Women 4
- Erotica 8
- Espionage/Intrigue 12
- Fairy Tales, Folklore & Mythology 236
- Family Life 169
- Fantasy 119
- Gay 1
- General 596
- Ghost 32
- Historical 809
- Horror 43
- Humorous 162
- Jewish 25
- Legal 4
- Literary 2
- Medical 23
- Mystery & Detective 315
- Occult 1
- Political 49
- Psychological 41
- Religious 64
- Romance 162
- 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:
by:
Gordon Casserly
CHAPTER I THE GREY BOAR Youth's daring courage, manhood's fire Firm seat and eagle eye Must he acquire who doth aspire To see the grey boar die —Indian Pigsticking Song Mrs. Norton looked contentedly at her image in the long mirror which reflected a graceful figure in a well-cut grey habit and smart long brown boots, a pretty face and wavy auburn hair under the sun-helmet. Then turning away...
more...
by:
Wilhelm Hauff
I was born in Constantinople; my father was a dragoman at the Porte, and besides, carried on a fairly lucrative business in sweet-scented perfumes and silk goods. He gave me a good education; he partly instructed me himself, and also had me instructed by one of our priests. He at first intended me to succeed him in business one day, but as I showed greater aptitude than he had expected, he destined me,...
more...
THE MARTIAN "BARTY JOSSELIN IS NO MORE...." When so great a man dies, it is generally found that a tangled growth of more or less contentious literature has already gathered round his name during his lifetime. He has been so written about, so talked about, so riddled with praise or blame, that, to those who have never seen him in the flesh, he has become almost a tradition, a myth—and one...
more...
The Hell O! O! Chaunty Chaunty Man . . Man the capstan, bullies!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Capstan-bars, you tarry souls!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Take a turn!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Stand by to fleet!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Stand by to surge!Men . . . . . . Ha!-o-o!Chaunty Man . . Ha!—o-o-o-o!Men . . . . . ....
more...
I. The friends of Dean Ramsay desiring a memorial of his life, his friendly publishers, and his nearest relatives, have asked me to undertake the work, and placed in my hands some materials giving authentic facts and dates, and illustrating the Dean's own views on the leading events of his life. I feel myself excluded from dealing with one important part of such a life, for I could not take upon...
more...
by:
James J. Walsh
A new edition of this volume being called for, I take the occasion to place it under the aegis of the University of Notre Dame as a slight token of gratitude for the formal recognition of the work by the faculty of that institution, and bind this Notre Dame edition in the University colors, blue and gold. There is much more readiness at the present time to accept the conclusions with regard to the...
more...
by:
Arnold Marmor
"This man is a spy for Earth," a voice droned, as the telecaster vibrated and a photo of Harry Horn flashed on the screen. "Ten thousand credits for this man, dead or alive. Contact Lazar of the Security Police. Harry Horn. Thirty-four, five feet, eleven inches, one hundred and seventy-two pounds." Lynn Brickel snapped off the humming machine. She frowned. Horn had been high in the...
more...
Septimius Felton. The existence of this story, posthumously published, was not known to any one but Hawthorne himself, until some time after his death, when the manuscript was found among his papers. The preparation and copying of his Note-Books for the press occupied the most of Mrs. Hawthorne's available time during the interval from 1864 to 1870; but in the latter year, having decided to...
more...
CHAPTER I An eight-mile drive over rain-washed Irish roads in the quick-falling dust of autumn is an experience trying to the patience, even to the temper, of the average Saxon. Yet James Milbanke made neither comment nor objection as mile after mile of roadway spun away like a ribbon behind him, as the mud rose in showers from the wheels of the old-fashioned trap in which he sat, and the half-trained...
more...
THE LEATHERWOOD GOD Already, in the third decade of the nineteenth century, the settlers in the valley of Leatherwood Creek had opened the primeval forest to their fields of corn and tobacco on the fertile slopes and rich bottom-lands. The stream had its name from the bush growing on its banks, which with its tough and pliable bark served many uses of leather among the pioneers; they made parts of...
more...