Fiction
- Action & Adventure 177
- Biographical 12
- Christian 59
- Classics 6965
- Coming of Age 2
- Contemporary Women 1
- Erotica 8
- Espionage/Intrigue 12
- Fairy Tales, Folklore & Mythology 234
- Family Life 169
- Fantasy 114
- Gay 1
- General 594
- Ghost 31
- Historical
- Horror 41
- Humorous 159
- Jewish 25
- Legal 2
- Medical 22
- Mystery & Detective 312
- Political 49
- Psychological 40
- Religious 64
- Romance 153
- Sagas 11
- Science Fiction 726
- Sea Stories 113
- Short Stories (single author) 537
- Sports 10
- Suspense 1
- Technological 8
- Urban Life 28
- War & Military 173
- Westerns 199
Historical Books
Sort by:
INTRODUCTION Dame History is so austere a lady that if one, has been so ill-advised as to take a liberty with her, one should hasten to make amends by repentance and confession. Events have been transposed to the extent of some few months in this narrative in order to preserve the continuity and evenness of the story. I hope so small a divergence may seem a venial error after so many centuries. For the...
more...
by:
Marcel Proust
OVERTURE For a long time I used to go to bed early. Sometimes, when I had put out my candle, my eyes would close so quickly that I had not even time to say "I'm going to sleep." And half an hour later the thought that it was time to go to sleep would awaken me; I would try to put away the book which, I imagined, was still in my hands, and to blow out the light; I had been thinking all the...
more...
THE LANDING AT JOUAN The perfect calm of an early spring dawn lies over headland and sea—hardly a ripple stirs the blue cheek of the bay. The softness of departing night lies upon the bosom of the Mediterranean like the dew upon the heart of a flower. A silent dawn. Veils of transparent greys and purples and mauves still conceal the distant horizon. Breathless calm rests upon the water and that awed...
more...
The Valiant Runaways I Roldan Castanada walked excitedly up and down the verandah of his father's house, his thumbs thrust into the red silk sash that was knotted about his waist, his cambric shirt open at the throat as if pulled impatiently apart; the soft grey sombrero on the back of his curly head making a wide frame for his dark, flushed, scowling face. There was nothing in the surroundings to...
more...
by:
Percy Lubbock
THE CRAFT OF FICTION To grasp the shadowy and fantasmal form of a book, to hold it fast, to turn it over and survey it at leisure—that is the effort of a critic of books, and it is perpetually defeated. Nothing, no power, will keep a book steady and motionless before us, so that we may have time to examine its shape and design. As quickly as we read, it melts and shifts in the memory; even at the...
more...
by:
Max Beerbohm
I unpacked my things and went down to await luncheon. It was good to be here again in this little old sleepy hostel by the sea. Hostel I say, though it spelt itself without an "s" and even placed a circumflex above the "o." It made no other pretension. It was very cozy indeed. I had been here just a year before, in mid-February, after an attack of influenza. And now I had returned,...
more...
by:
Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER I The Bruised Reed The fair girl who was playing a banjo and singing to the wounded soldiers suddenly stopped, and, turning to the surgeon, whispered: “What’s that?” “It sounds like a mob——” With a common impulse they moved to the open window of the hospital and listened. On the soft spring air came the roar of excited thousands sweeping down the avenue from the Capitol toward the...
more...
Faustus, having long struggled with the shadows of Theology, the bubbles of Metaphysics, and the ignes-fatui of Morality, without being able to bring his mind to a firm conviction, at length cast himself into the dark fields of Magic, in the hope of forcing from Nature what she had so obstinately withheld from him. His first attainment was the remarkable invention of Printing; but his second was...
more...
by:
Jules Verne
CHAPTER I A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE "SIRE, a fresh dispatch." "Whence?" "From Tomsk?" "Is the wire cut beyond that city?" "Yes, sire, since yesterday." "Telegraph hourly to Tomsk, General, and keep me informed of all that occurs." "Sire, it shall be done," answered General Kissoff. These words were exchanged about two hours after midnight, at the...
more...
INTRODUCTION. [Illustration] Thackeray In His Study At Onslow Square. From a painting by E. M. Ward We know exceedingly little of the genesis and progress of Esmond. “It did not seem to be a part of our lives as Pendennis was,” says Lady Ritchie, though she wrote part of it to dictation. She “only heard Esmond spoken of very rarely”. Perhaps its state was not the less gracious. The Milton girls...
more...