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 118
- 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:
Eden Phillpotts
Phoebe Lyddon frowned, and, as an instant protest, twin dimples peeped into life at the left corner of her bonny mouth. In regarding that attractive ripple the down-drawn eyebrows were forgotten until they rose again into their natural arches. A sweet, childish contour of face chimed with her expression; her full lips were bright as the bunch of ripe wood-strawberries at the breast of her cotton gown;...
more...
by:
Rudolf Baumbach
THE FURY (L'ARRABIATA) The day had scarcely dawned. Over Vesuvius hung one broad gray stripe of mist, stretching across as far as Naples, and darkening all the small towns along the coast. The sea lay calm. Along the shore of the narrow creek that lies beneath the Sorrento cliffs, fishermen and their wives were at work already, some with giant cables drawing their boats to land, with the nets that...
more...
by:
Emily Sarah Holt
Preface. On the crowded canvas of the fourteenth century stands out as one of its most prominent figures that of the warrior Countess of Montfort. No reader of Froissart’s Chronicle can forget the siege of Hennebon, and the valiant part she played in the defence of her son’s dominions. Actuated by more personal motives than the peasant maid, she was nevertheless the Joan of Arc of her day, and of...
more...
LETTER I. TO MISS LUCY FREEMAN. NEW HAVEN An unusual sensation possesses my breast—a sensation which I once thought could never pervade it on any occasion whatever. It is pleasure, pleasure, my dear Lucy, on leaving my paternal roof. Could you have believed that the darling child of an indulgent and dearly-beloved mother would feel a gleam of joy at leaving her? But so it is. The melancholy, the...
more...
The partnership of Edmond and Jules de Goncourt is probably the most curious and perfect example of collaboration recorded in literary history. The brothers worked together for twenty-two years, and the amalgam of their diverse talents was so complete that, were it not for the information given by the survivor, it would be difficult to guess what each brought to the work which bears their names. Even...
more...
INTRODUCTION Elusive Truth It was the Chicago Tribune of June 13th, 189-, which contained this paragraph under the head-line: "Big Broker Missing!" "The friends of Isidor Werner, a young man prominent in Board of Trade circles, are much concerned about him, as he has not been seen for several days. He made his last appearance in the wheat pit as a heavy buyer Tuesday forenoon. That...
more...
"Blast them!" the writer groaned in bitter accents. "How I hate those B. E. M's.!" "Hang them!" the artist yelled. "How I hate those B. E. M's.!" "Darn them!" the B. E. M. moaned. "How I hate those humans!" The artist and the writer sat staring at each other in wordless misery, their coffee untasted and their spirits at low ebb. Up above, in the...
more...
by:
Hobart M. Smith
The tadpoles of this species have been described by Bragg (Copeia, 1936: 14-20, figs. 1-13; Amer. Midl. Nat., 18:273-284, figs. 1-5, 1937). The drawings and descriptions of the mouthparts, however, appear to have been taken from dried, or immature, or transforming individuals, for they do not agree among themselves nor do they agree with larvae obtained in the field and now in the Museum of Natural...
more...
by:
Edna Lyall
MY FIRST STAGE At last the tea came up, and soWith that our tongues began to go.Now in that house you’re sure of knowingThe smallest scrap of news that’s going.We find it there the wisest wayTo take some care of what we say. Recreation. Jane Taylor. I was born on the 2nd September, 1886, in a small, dull, country town. When I say the town was dull, I mean, of course, that the inhabitants were...
more...
PROLOGUE I 'Ah, what a thing it would be for us if his Inca Highness were really only asleep, as he looks to be! Just think what he could tell us—how easily he could re-create that lost wonderland of his for us, what riddles he could answer, what lies he could contradict. And then think of all the lost treasures that he could show us the way to. Upon my word, if Mephistopheles were to walk into...
more...