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Reading books MYSTERY & CRIMEHowever, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others.
An astonishing number of readers read mystery and crime.
The peculiarities of such constant attention to mystery and crime by the most diverse readership has been and remains the subject of numerous studies.
But seriously, a detective mystery should matted the reader. However, readers are very different: some try to guess who the killer is, others try to figure out the killer using mathematical methods, and others prefer to get pleasure only by turning the last page.
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The cornerstone of the reader's well-deserved interest mystery and crime is that the criminal is doomed to suffer the punishment he deserves. This is the logic of the detective form. Otherwise, the reader will be dissatisfied and even annoyed.
Naturally, you can’t create a perfect story of mystery and crime . The author must inevitably sacrifice something of his own, but he must have some higher value that would fundamentally distinguish him from other authors. The works of Hammett, Chandler, McDonald, Cain, Stout, containing such peculiar "Emeralds", from generation to generation remain interesting for millions of fans, young and old.


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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » HAUNTED PRINCE by DENIS DANIEL (uplifting books for women .TXT) 📖

Book online «HAUNTED PRINCE by DENIS DANIEL (uplifting books for women .TXT) đŸ“–Â». Author DENIS DANIEL



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to see you cry.”

“Twilight then,” she said uncertain with the choice.

“No, I’ve watched it too many times, I’ll get bored. I want to watch a Superhero movie, except Daredevil, I didn’t like the end.”

“I thought I was the one who chooses.” She complained.

“But you were taking too long, I changed my mind.” I said,

“Okay, how about Spiderman?” she asked showing me the cover,

“That’s the one.” I agreed.

She inserted it and jumped into the bed with me, she watched quietly with me at first and I almost thought she was asleep. Until she popped a question I didn’t know how to answer,

“Steve, can I ask you something?” she started,

“Shoot. What is it?”

“What is love? How does it feel like to be in love? How did you know you loved those girls?” her questions flowed. She sounded serious and somewhat sad,

I got stuck for a while because I wasn’t even sure myself if I knew the correct answer, at least the last one was answerable.

“I guess it was the way they made me feel, happy, needed, and important that sort of thing. When you are in love is when the one you love occupies your thoughts and your heart, and you always want to be near that person.” I said trying to be as honest as possible.

“So what is love?” she asked again.

“I guess it’s a feeling, a very strong feeling.” I paused and asked, “Why did you ask anyway?”

“I just wanted to know. Out of curiosity.” She answered absent minded,

I didn’t want to push the topic because I knew she wasn’t very comfortable with it. So I kept watching the movie and we were quiet once again.

I think somewhere in the middle of the movie I fell asleep and fell into a deep slumber. Fortunately that night I didn’t have intense nightmares. I just saw flashes passing by, so it wasn’t that bad.

Sunday was always a calm day, I’d always wake up late and lazy. Neither Ashley nor mom bothered to wake me up that day so I woke up around nine and the sun was piercing brightly through the curtains from the window. Springs sun was always beautiful, it felt warm and nice after the ice cold winter.

I felt heavy and my legs could hardly move like I’d been working all night. But it was okay because I knew those were the side effect of having nightmares all night. I headed to the bathroom to get a nice hot shower to wash off the fog. And since it was Sunday I took my time. I didn’t trouble my mind this time around. I let the water run through me and relax my muscles; it almost felt like meditation, but I knew nothing about that. After couple minutes I got out. I put on track suit trousers and a white T-shirt something that could allow my body to breath.

I used to do exercises but now I couldn’t even do push-ups and I was starting to lose my abs. But my body was the last thing I could worry about. If things were going to chill next week, I was going to start looking for answers in any possible way until I fit all the pieces on this puzzle of a life.

Downstairs I found Ashley watching some celebrities’ gossip show, “I didn’t know you were into those things.” I commented with a surprise.

“Hey morning, mph!” she blew air from her mouth, “Briana and Michele wanted me to watch it, they said it was important, but I haven’t seen anything important so far. It’s just rich people playing around with money.”

“Okay. Mom already left.” It was more like talking to myself,

“Yah! There was some things she needed to take care of at the office, but she will come back early.” Ashley responded anyway, “There’s some cupcakes in the oven and bacon in the microwave.”

So, I went to the kitchen to get them and have breakfast.

After I’d finished I took three cakes and headed back to the living room to join Ashley watching TV. I gave her one cake and I was left with two.

“Why do you take two?” she complained,

“Because I’m older than you, simple.”

“I disagree, I say because you are greedy.”

“Then you are greedier because you weren’t satisfied with what you got.” I put on a mockery face, “huh.”

“Whatever, I don’t want to argue with you right now.” She said giving up,

“But I wasn’t arguing with you. We were just talking, weren’t we?” I pouted, pretending I was hurt.

“Oh, really? As if I don’t know you.”

“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?” just like the way a kid would ask his parent.

“No, you are not. You are far from that,” there was no a slightest doubt on her face, as if she was so sure.

The conversation died. I guess my own question touched a part where I didn’t want it to. I wish I was sure as Ashley that I was completely innocent, that I was actually a victim in all these things. I pushed the thoughts away and kept nibbling my cupcake slowly enjoying every delicious bit of it, and forgot about my problems for once.

It was around eleven in the morning when I heard a doorbell rang. Ashley was upstairs retrieving playing cards because she suggested that we do it. I wondered who that person would be. I even thought maybe it was Lexi the blonde girl, but what was she doing here this early in the morning? And if it was her, I thought, she might need some serious help.

I went to the door to drop a bomb on her, but surprised I found something completely different. Something that made my mouth drop open. There was a policeman in uniform holding his badge on my face and his car was behind him glowing with red and blue lights on it, and there was another one leaning on it.

“Detective Clark Denton, and you are Steven Adams?” he asked while putting his badge back in his pocket.

“Yes, that’s me.” I didn’t want to ask anything since the answer was already obvious.

“I would like you to come with us, please.” He said curtly.

I didn’t argue or add a word because there was no point for doing so. I got in the car and soon after he got in as well and his partner drove us on our way to the police station.

I knew there was another person dead that’s why I was being detained. What I didn’t want was that person to be somebody I knew, especially the most recent, stubborn, hard headed, cynical and stupidest girl I’d ever met, the blonde girl, Lexi.

I repeated it so many times before that it wasn’t safe for her to be with me. But did she listen to me? No, and now I needed to add her on my too overwhelmed guilty conscience. She should’ve listen to me that stupid girl, now look what happened. I couldn’t believe I was back right where I started two years ago. Here I was going to the precinct to explain how another girl died on my account.

How was I going to explain this to the world, to Ashley? Of course she believed I was innocent. But how was I going to tell her that it happened again and that nothing had changed, and that my life would never change, ever.

“Alright, we are here.” The cop opened the door for me and he was looking at me suspiciously may be because he’d been standing there for a while.

I didn’t even realize we arrived, the trip seemed shorter than the last time, even though that was a long time ago. Nervousness crept from inside me and suddenly I started to feel sweaty and had to get myself under control.

I was right to be nervous though, because the sheriff didn’t like me so much. Maybe because of the cases he never managed to close and every one of them I was somehow involved with the deceased, that word sounded less cruel, I think. Saying the dead made me feel guiltier, like I was involved in a murder or something.

That cop brought me to a room which seemed to come out of nowhere to me, with all the scrambling thoughts that were climbing on each other in my mind. What I couldn’t understand is that he kept looking at me suspiciously. Was he expecting me to swallow him or something? Was he expecting me ask him something? Or he was expecting me to suck the life out of him and disappear as everyone was thinking that’s what I do to people. He cuffed my hands and said,

“Stay here.” He commanded brusquely and left.

Finally, I got time to look around, it was an interrogation room, the one I entered for the first time two years ago. And today I was in it again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 16;

 

 

I didn’t like being in the room and wished the police could get over with it quickly, so I could finally know what’s next. What was the next big disaster that was going to happen in my life! ‘Am I going to be sent to prison?’ I asked myself. But that was impossible because they couldn’t prove that I was in anyway connected with those deaths.

I was drawn back with the sound of the doorknob clicking and my eyes rested on the other side where the door was. A person entering the room was Mr. Wilson, the sheriff, the last person I expected to meet on this day. My life was messed up enough I didn’t need another one of my haters to mess it up even more.

He dropped a folder on the table and some papers and photos spilled out of it. Suddenly a lump got in my throat and my mouth got dusty dry. I couldn’t breathe. I’d already seen enough of those pictures I didn’t want to see any more of them.

He sat down quietly and started looking at me with obviously furious eyes, and that didn’t take just seconds but minutes. I sweated and sweated until I felt my shirt getting soaked. I wanted to get up and run the hell out of there, but I was locked in with this monster.

After about five minutes he flipped the folder, my first instinct was to shut my eyes as hard as I could, so that I wouldn’t have to look at Lexi’s body, ice cold and pale as snow. He didn’t say a word and when I opened my eyes hoping he didn’t open it. Instead there was a single photo in front of me and this girl wasn’t blonde, she was brunette. She was tall and chubby, a girl I never saw before. Yes, she had same features as the victims, assuming that was the reason I was brought to this place.

“I don’t know this girl, I’ve never seen her before!” I spoke out loud but my first intention was to speak to myself, it brought some interest to the statue in front of me, though.

“Are you sure?” he spat finally, and I think I heard him snarl, or maybe it was all in my imagination. Because I was imagining lots of things at that time. And the possibility that I wasn’t going to get out that room okay was pretty high.

“I’m,

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