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 313
- 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:
CHAPTER I: A FISHING EXCURSION "Now, Hargate, what a fellow you are! I've been looking for you everywhere. Don't you know it's the House against the Town boys. It's lucky that the Town have got the first innings; they began a quarter of an hour ago." "How tiresome!" Frank Hargate said. "I was watching a most interesting thing here. Don't you see this little...
more...
by:
George Meredith
THE THWACKINGS It was ordained that Shibli Bagarag, nephew to the renowned Baba Mustapha, chief barber to the Court of Persia, should shave Shagpat, the son of Shimpoor, the son of Shoolpi, the son of Shullum; and they had been clothiers for generations, even to the time of Shagpat, the illustrious. Now, the story of Shibli Bagarag, and of the ball he followed, and of the subterranean kingdom he came...
more...
by:
W. Boucher
Query Bad Shillings? “Hi!” No answer. “Hi! Dyke!” The lad addressed did not turn his head, but walked straight on, with the dwarf karroo bushes crackling and snapping under his feet, while at each call he gave an angry kick out, sending the dry red sand flying. He was making for the kopje or head of bald granite which rose high out of the level plain—where, save in patches, there was hardly a...
more...
by:
O. Henry
THE LAST OF THE TROUBADOURS Inexorably Sam Galloway saddled his pony. He was going away from the Rancho Altito at the end of a three-months' visit. It is not to be expected that a guest should put up with wheat coffee and biscuits yellow-streaked with saleratus for longer than that. Nick Napoleon, the big Negro man cook, had never been able to make good biscuits. Once before, when Nick was...
more...
by:
Edward Eggleston
PREFACE. [IN THE POTENTIAL MOOD.] It is the pretty unanimous conclusion of book-writers that prefaces are most unnecessary and useless prependages, since nobody reads them. And it is the pretty unanimous practice of book-writers to continue to write them with such pains and elaborateness as would indicate a belief that the success of a book depends upon the favorable prejudice begotten of u graceful...
more...
by:
Emily Sarah Holt
Preface. It is said that only travellers in the arid lands of the East really know the value of water. To them the Well in the Desert is a treasure and a blessing: unspeakably so, when the water is pure and sweet; yet even though it be salt and brackish, it may still save life. Was it less so, in a figurative sense, to the travellers through that great desert of the Middle Ages, wherein the wells were...
more...
CHAPTER I Felix Brand Has a Mysterious Experience Felix Brand awoke with a start and looked about him with a puzzled stare. And yet there was nothing unfamiliar in what met his gaze. The bed wherein he lay and its luxurious appointments were of his own recent buying. He had himself designed the decorations of the room and selected its furnishings. As his eyes leaped from one object to another his...
more...
I have sometimes produced a singular and not unpleasing effect, so far as my own mind was concerned, by imagining a train of incidents, in which the spirit and mechanism of the fairy legend should be combined with the characters and manners of familiar life. In the little tale which follows, a subdued tinge of the wild and wonderful is thrown over a sketch of New England personages and scenery, yet, it...
more...
by:
Kathlyn Rhodes
Barry Raymond drew the latchkey out of the door and entered his small flat in Kensington just as the clock in the tiny hall chimed the hour of ten. It was a wet night; and he drew off his Burberry and hung it up with a sense of pleasure in being again in his cosy little eyrie at the top of the chilly stone steps. Humming a tune, he crossed the diminutive hall and went into the sitting-room, where the...
more...
CONFIDENCES Beautiful, beautiful was that night! No air that stirred; the black smoke from the funnels of the mail steamer Zanzibar lay low over the surface of the sea like vast, floating ostrich plumes that vanished one by one in the starlight. Benita Beatrix Clifford, for that was her full name, who had been christened Benita after her mother and Beatrix after her father's only sister, leaning...
more...