Fiction
- Action & Adventure 177
- Biographical 13
- Christian 59
- Classics 6965
- Coming of Age 3
- Contemporary Women 1
- Erotica 8
- Espionage/Intrigue 12
- Fairy Tales, Folklore & Mythology 235
- Family Life 169
- Fantasy 115
- Gay 1
- General 595
- Ghost 31
- Historical 808
- Horror 41
- Humorous 159
- Jewish 25
- Legal 2
- Medical 22
- Mystery & Detective 312
- Political 49
- Psychological 40
- Religious 64
- Romance 154
- Sagas 11
- Science Fiction 726
- Sea Stories 113
- Short Stories (single author) 537
- Sports 10
- Suspense 1
- Technological 8
- Urban Life 29
- War & Military 173
- Westerns 199
Fiction Books
Sort by:
by:
Georgie Sheldon
PROLOGUE. The most important and the most sacred event in a woman's life is her marriage. It should never be lightly considered, no matter what may be the allurement—honor, wealth, social position. To play at marriage, even for a plausible pretext, is likely to be very imprudent, and may prove a sin against both God and man. The story we are about to tell chiefly concerns a refined and beautiful...
more...
by:
Edgar Allan Poe
The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe The "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the...
more...
Two incidents, widely different in character yet bound together by results, marked the night of January the twenty-third. On that night the blackest fog within a four years' memory fell upon certain portions of London, and also on that night came the first announcement of the border risings against the Persian government in the province of Khorasan the announcement that, speculated upon, even...
more...
CHAPTER I THE STRANGE CASE OF SIR GRENVILLE RUSHOLM Sir Grenville Rusholm, Baronet, was dead. The blinds were down at the Lodge, Queen's Square. For the last few days lengthy obituary notices had appeared in all the papers, innumerable wreaths and crosses had arrived at the house, and letters of sympathy and condolence had poured in upon Lady Rusholm. The dead man had filled a considerable space...
more...
Who Knows? These things are quite improbable, to be sure; but are they impossible? Our big world rolls over as smoothly as it did centuries ago, without a squeak to show it needs oiling after all these years of revolution. But times change because men change, and because civilization, like John Brown's soul, goes ever marching on. The impossibilities of yesterday become the accepted facts of...
more...
Sheets of virgin manuscript paper littered my desk, the smoke of much uselessly consumed tobacco hung about the room in a little cloud. Many a time I had dipped my pen in the ink, only to find myself a few minutes later scrawling ridiculous little figures upon the margin of my blotting-pad. It was not at all an auspicious start for one who sought immortality. There came a growl presently from the other...
more...
by:
John W. Grey
CHAPTER I Peter Brent sat nervously smoking in the library of his great house, Brent Rock. He was a man of about forty-five or -six—a typical, shrewd business man. Something, however, was evidently on his mind, for, though he tried to conceal it, he lacked the self-assurance that was habitually his before the world. A scowl clouded his face as the door of the library was flung open and he heard...
more...
by:
Francis Lynde
CHAPTER IIN WHICH I WHET MY FATHER'S SWORD The summer day was all but spent when Richard Jennifer, riding express, brought me Captain Falconnet's challenge. 'Twas a dayfall to be marked with a white stone, even in our Carolina calendar. The sun, reaching down to the mountain-girt horizon in the west, filled all the upper air with the glory of its departing, and the higher leaf plumes of...
more...
by:
Irving Bacheller
CHAPTER I Near the end of my fourteenth year I was apprenticed to Valentine, King & Co., cotton importers, Liverpool, as a "pair of legs." My father had died suddenly, leaving me and his property in the possession of my stepmother and my guardian. It was in deference to their urgent advice that I left my home in London (with little reluctance, since my life there had never been happy) to...
more...
His House. Early morning at Saltinville, with the tide down, and the calm sea shimmering like damasked and deadened silver in the sunshine. Here and there a lugger was ashore, delivering its take of iris-hued mackerel to cart and basket, as a busy throng stood round, some upon the sands, some knee-deep in water, and all eager to obtain a portion of the fresh fish that fetched so good a price amongst...
more...