Suspense Novel Quotes

Life is like a novel. It's filled with suspense. You have no idea what is going to happen until you turn the page.

She stabbed the earth with her big fork as if she could make Cookie Mac’s blood sprout from it.

If there was one thing a former sniper could do well, it was wait. Patiently. Quietly. Without a sound. Barely a movement. Just him, a quiet mind and his breath.

But this Scroll too has magical properties. From the moment I first saw it, the paper warmed to my touch. I know it came alive as I held it. Did you know there’s a serpent on the back? Some say it’s a dragon. It winked at me. Its lashes are gold.

He says it was tourists being careless, where I see a fiendishly clever murder attempt.” “Mr. McCarthy, you’d better explain.” “Patrick, please. You’ll be tempted to laugh. It was a banana skin.

  Mary fought a savage impulse to slam the door on the couple. But they were too interesting to ignore in the circumstances of the murder. She caught sight of Richard spitting out a mouthful of hair.

Falconers,” she continued, sternly. “Pull yourselves together. People are dying. The police don’t have the family history to solve murders forty years apart.

Mary tried to look reassuring. “It’s a house party, he said,” she directed at the Falconers, “Sir Viktor’s holding a house party for the convenience of the police. It’s like an old-fashioned mystery novel.

The bang of the modernist metal doorknocker exploded in the room. Jolting upright on the edge of the couch, Isa froze, her heart beating a discordance of dread. Her mind went blank as she stared at the door. No.

George’s utterance of the nest and the trap belonged to a bigger mystery she did not yet understand. One day I will, she promised herself. She would stake her life that those last words from her son would be solved by her. They were steppingstones into… whatever the wind and the stars and the valiant trees held for her.

So, you do speak English. That makes sense now.” Catherine said, shaking her head. “Of course, I speak English. I’m from Australia, not Tanzania.

One thing, though, was for sure – here I was, alive, healthy but as unquiet in my way as they were in theirs. Transcendent equality. You’ve got to love it.

Stand in the machine there, let’s see what state your internal organs are in. The images
will be projected on screen, and I can go through the diagnosis with you, step by step.”
Brown did as he was told and soon images of his vital organs appeared on the screen.
 As you can see, your heart is slightly enlarged and your lungs and kidneys are not in
good shape either. Have you been experiencing any pain lately?”
“Not that I can think of. What can you do to help?”
“Difficult to say, you see you are dying” said the Doctor. You can see the
discolouration in your kidneys.” Brown strained his eyes.

I’ll tell the Chief and he’ll squash you like the little flea-ridden castrated cock you are.

As the taxi entered the intersection, the two drivers in the attorney general’s entourage slammed on the brakes. Both Suburbans fishtailed out of control. Ducking in the back seat, Blake could smell the burning rubber from tires skidding on the asphalt and hear the pedestrians screaming and car horns sounding off in rebuke.

I can’t do more than this. Don’t ask me. If you ask, I’ll try and I’ll fail. You’ll end up hating me. And I’d rather die . . . than have you hate me. Or disappoint you. My own darkness, it still chips away at me.

It’s the opportunity of a lifetime,” said Ito finally, who had been keeping very quiet
up to this point.
“Indeed. How much will it cost?” asked Brown
“About twenty million Interplanetary Credits,” said Demba. “A modest investment for
a man of your means.”
“Indeed,” said Brown again. That was all the money he had, which started to strike
him as strange, when his thoughts were interrupted.
“We’ll arrange a visit to the mine,” said Ito. “Show you the place itself.”
“Indeed,” said Brown. Or had he said that? The strange waking memory he had fallen
into started to become repetitive. Reality started to flow back in.
Diamonds, thought Brown. All those diamonds in that mine.

Nathan ran a palm over his forehead. He was on a mission with Taliban terrorists. His old sarge would be puking in his grave. He’d always maintained that the enemy of your enemy was still your fucking enemy.

Mary was under water. She’d been under water for a long time. Rhiannon was there. No, it was just her severed head talking. The murdered girl’s hair billowed out from under the torc.

You don't know what can happen tomorrow. Life is like a novel, isn't it? It's filled with suspense. You never know what's going to happen until you turn the page.

She felt love, like the love that she had always known existed behind every fallen autumn leaf, behind the gurgling of springs, and behind the kisses of her parents.

Anna did say the wife of Lir had left her?” whispered Mary. “Yes,” said Caroline. “She said, ‘for now.

Janet showed her teeth. “Time to get real, Sarah. No more human sacrifices, got it?

So, Mr. Jeffreys,” she inquired of the human bluebottle, “you went to the gym?

Don’t we know any. . .er. . .cheap lawyers?

Trust the body of your enemy. The body does not lie. Most people,” she’d looked directly at Mary, “most people do not know how to make the body lie.

After so many successes on the battlefield, I learned one lesson too late. Standing alone, I defeated many external enemies. But alone I could not defeat the enemies that were inside of me.

Sure didn’t expect to see that kind of assault, here in Oxford,” said another. “Seems like such a quiet town.

Wife of Lir eat horse.

There was no city, no London, just beacon fires on all three sacred mounds.

And he never asked you about it?” “No, he never asked. If he had, I’m still not sure I would have told him.” “Told him what?” “That is was his baby.

What about that old coot?” Janet looked suspicious. Mr. Jeffreys was from the world of officialdom she despised.

Take it away,” she pointed at the green milk in a normal tone. “Anna and wife of Lir. Both must stay.

No sleeping in the places of death.

This must be what dying is like. She tried wiggling a bony finger to attract Rhiannon. She wanted to ask her: is this what it was like?

The snake you don’t kill today may kill you tomorrow.

She was oozing backwards into the tree. Her bones were going to mate with the grain of the wood. I am becoming part of the forest.

Do you know where Jean de Tournet is?” Jason asked. “He is dead, Uncle,” Charlotte said flatly. “How do you know?” “I killed him in 1943. He was doing business with the Nazis. He tried to rape me” – she stopped and shivered – “but I killed him before he could.” Jason and Sophie both looked at Charlotte with horror. This was the first time Jason had showed any genuine emotion throughout the evening. It was fear.

I EAT THE DARK

[B]ehind the mother fighting for her son’s life was the priestess of the forest and the cup.

A scream pierced the sky, a child’s, so loud he dropped his cup, his right hand ready to reach for a weapon that wasn’t there. A survival reflex from another city, another part of the world. He tried to relax, but the scream had been real. Not like the whining wail he loathed, not even the shocked cry of a kid who’d just hurt himself. This scream had mortal fear in it. After three tours in Afghanistan, he knew the difference.

The Torc— and the crone— go to the underworld via the sacred well and the river.

My Google search history alone was probably enough to put me on a government watch list. I wrote suspense novels about murders like this. I’d searched every possible way to kill someone. With every conceivable kind of weapon.

The reality of what was happening sank in. How and why had he ended up here? Why had Bevin and Charles been murdered?

He used his large shoulders and movements to impose his dominance over others as he strutted around but his facial expressions were a giveaway to people like Maeve who was born into a gritty group of native born fighting Irish. While many saw him as a man who worked his way up to power and influence and attained success that others fail to achieve, she saw him as a sham. He didn’t acquire loyalty by goodwill, but by corruption, fear, and loathing.

Sitting down on the bed, my mind went blank again. I laid my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. Dad is dead. My father is dead and I will never be able to talk to him again. I opened my eyes and checked the time. Almost 6am.

I bade her ‘night night,’ and I was already waiting to meet her.

…You’re throwing us away because you’re afraid to let yourself fall in love. You’re searching for something that isn’t real. You’re not Eric Stone. He’s your protagonist. Eric Stone is make-believe and life isn’t an adventure novel.

Kara! Be thankful you are allowed to roam about inside the house, but let me warn you, if you ever put any of my people in danger by attempting to escape again, I’ll lock you in your room and throw away the key.

I want to be able to fulfill someone’s heart’s desires and make them happy. Learn new things about life and have memorable experiences.

This was simply the beginning of a long nightmare. I wondered how I’d get through the night. Frankly, I was concerned about making it through the next five minutes. 

Mrs. Moreland, I am now remanding you into the custody of the Maricopa County Sheriff ’s Office while you await your sentence. All bond is revoked. We are adjourned.

Will the defendant please rise for the reading of the verdict?” My heart was beating fast. Here we go again, I thought, drawing in a deep breath and holding it.

He would tell you to leave?” “Yes. He is…was a rude man, but it didn’t bother me. I was used to it. As I said, I’d gotten used to Mr. Hines. He is…was, despite his rudeness, a good boss. He never questioned me or my brother on how much we spent on the house. If there was something that needed fixing, he’d instruct my brother on what was to be done.

Fringe winds from Hurricane Lori rushed in, carrying dust and debris. It blew through the highceilinged, chandeliered lobby and back into the wide open doors of the elegant and intimate dining room. White linen tablecloths fluttered and napkins flew in the air, sending plates and silverware crashing to the floor.

I felt the rough fingers of Papa’s hands brushing away my tears. “Enough tears, Mija. Enough tears.

This life is a virtual simulation game where you can win or lose, you can continue playing for the rest of your life or join the club. You decide! You only have to respect one rule because your stay in the human farm will depend on that, continue playing until the end no matter how many times you are brought into this reality, so stay awake with your eyes wide open and your mouth tight shut." Welcome to the game of life, welcome to the matrix.

That can’t be right, I thought as my head dropped and my chin pressed against my throat. I didn’t do it!

Anika nodded, reflecting on her situation as the sirens grew louder. She had some time, but cops, hurricanes, and jealous women weren’t the party favors she’d expected for her homecoming parade.

Yes, sir, I will,” there was a nervous edge in her voice, but now it was too late. Her session had begun.

Yea, I know, Fallen Angel got your tongue; it happens to the best of us.

Jack, this is Vance McGruder. I couldn’t find your cell number so I’m taking a chance on reaching you at the cottage. It’s Monday afternoon and I need you here as soon as possible. I’ve arranged for a one-way, first-class ticket on Delta Air Lines on their 3:15pm flight tomorrow afternoon to Atlanta and connecting on to LAX. I’ll have a car and driver at LAX to pick you up. Call me as soon as you get this message.

Our conversation flowed soft and easy, like a breeze on a summer’s day—such a pleasure.

After further teasing, she made a slight wiggle of the hips; she was undoubtedly enjoying his attentions.

When compared with what I have in mind for it, your property is blighted, dangerous, deteriorated, infectious, unhealthy, substandard, crime-infested, and irreparable. Once I have proven that, I will move in, and you will be moved away. You must leave so I can thrive.

He opened the letter and read its contents. A stiffness grew in his loins as her sexual fantasies were laid bare, written out before him.

Junior finds what he’s seeking in a swale between two ridges. He glasses down at the elk from a hillside aflame with autumn color. The animal strides through the clearing about five hundred yards due east, dipping its head now and then to nibble on receding grass that soon will disappear for the winter.

Harlan chuckles to himself and shakes his head, as though enjoying a joke only he has heard. ‘Now I guess it’s only fair to warn you,’ he says. ‘This is not going to go the way you want it to.

You need to grow up, and realize what it is you need right now, and what you can live without.

The summer of 2019 had overstayed its welcome in Florida, lingering well into September. As if to make a point about global warming, the rabid sun scorched the waters of Biscayne Bay for weeks, generating a haze of humidity that blurred the line between the windless sea and the sky above. Not to be accused of playing favorites, the sun’s rays beat down on the land with equal spite, pummeling grass, palms, and bushes into limp submission. The heat weaponized asphalt roads and cement sidewalks, the shimmery mirages above them a clear warning to all living things to stay away or burn.

I didn't know that once you've proven yourself useful to the wrong people, you'll never be free again.

Should you feel sufficiently emboldened, then let’s plan a coffee sometime soon. And see what the universe makes of the occasion.

I feel like a massive wave of life just washed over me. While luck comes in many guises, winning the lottery pales into nothing compared to meeting unique people.

She walked into the room, her hips swaying, a tiny smile playing around her lips.

The current needs of survival leave little time for luxuries like sentimentality. It is, he figures, a kind of mercy. No time to dwell on what was lost when there is more yet to protect.

Unique people are always worth some effort. I’m very blessed to know a handful; time spent with them is a joy for the soul.

A selfish man would never visit a comatose woman every day for two months. He wouldn’t have done what was best for everyone involved, or given an employee a proper burial. These are the acts of a loving man––a man who cared too much.” “What are you saying?” “Sara’s my biological mother.

When it’s over, all the equipment used is destroyed, even your clothing. Once it’s over every operator wipes his cranial hard drive clean of every moment of the mission, and you collectively go into blackout mode.

Yes, I’m sure the universe connected us and may do so again when it deems the time is right. Until then, in only a few short hours combined with a set of lovely messages, I have enjoyed something rarely found, a gemstone in the sands of time.

Is Cade a criminal, a sinner, or a biblical purveyor of justice? Your answer is your own. I cannot say whether or not you made the correct choice.

And they...LIVED! Life isn't always ‘Happily Ever After’, rather, loving FOREVER, regardless.

novels are untrustworthy advisers. They aren't concerned with rationality or sobriety; they peddle in tragedy and suspense, in chaos and rule breaking, in madness and heartache, and they will steer you toward such things with all the guile of a piper luring rats into a river.

She smells like spring and flowers and rain, even though it’s winter. Sometimes, he thinks he loves her so much that his mind is unable to distinguish between love and obsession. Which is worse?

Dearie, I’m not going to speak for other people.” Megan manoeuvred her lips into a smile, but her eyes stayed cold. “Now. What else would you like to see me about?” “Do you think things will go backwards if the Rowlands push for change?” “It’s not my place to judge that, but I’ll tell you this for nothing. The Rowlands aren’t the only ones with a vested interest in everything around here. They might own it on paper, but folks make their living here, and if the Rowlands threaten that, they’ll get more than they bargained for.” Something in Megan’s tone caused Saskia to tense. The smile that Megan continued to hold on her lips seemed now an image of threat.

From the scene arrayed before her now, Tsula knows this new body means something entirely different. The tight bunchings of onlookers in hushed conversation. The watery eyes and mouths covered by fingers. This is how people gather when the dead is one of their own.

Then she tilted the can and dripped the gasoline throughout the old wooden structure. She didn’t have either time or strength to haul the bodies. In a better world, she would have given One a decent burial, and positioned Four in the driver’s seat of her fashionable vehicle, but alas, neither was possible.

Antifa was happy to have high school graduates turned out year after year who don’t know a fraction of the essential information that one hundred years ago every sixth-grader knew. The dumber the person, the more malleable and easier to convince they became.

He was one of the lucky ones. He would follow operational orders, but he spoke out if he believed a senior officer was wrong in a moral sense. At a number of points his career might have been truncated because a senior considered him an impertinent malcontent.

Anika walked to the workbench, which was flanked by two metal cabinets. She opened the cabinet on the left and spotted sundry items—nails, paint, and whatnot—that one expected to see. Even the rat poison with skull and crossbones on the bag made sense. She also saw, however, several boxes wrapped in white and labeled, “Explosive Plastic Comp-4 (C-4).” Paralyzed, she tried not to panic or stare. 

Marriage isn’t a prison,” Karlee said. “It’s not supposed to hold two people captive.” “It’s not a prison, it’s a fortress. Marry me. Because you love me. Because of the baby. Because you want to protect our love.” “And all this time I thought you were afraid of commitment.” “I am,” Cole said. “I’m terrified you won’t make one.

In the years that followed, Tsula would find that she could not recall that walk to the edge or the thrust of her legs into the air. Her clearest memory more than twenty years later is of the long, breathless wait as she fell, seemingly forever, and the water swallowing her at last. When she burst from its surface, unhurt, her mind noisy and electric, she grabbed for Jamie and kissed him hard.

Kowkosvki? You handling this?” “I am.” The suit turned and stared at me with his dark eyes. “Detective Hayden. I take it you’re the shooter?” “I am.” “And you are?” “Jack Ludefance. I’m a PI hired by Mr. Kingsley to investigate the murder of Professor Zambear.” “Oh, yeah, I heard about you. Who’s in the bedroom?” “Rudy Orkut. My computer tech.” “Computer tech, huh? Any idea who this dead body is?” “Not a clue.

A psychiatrist would diagnose Jolene—and possibly every member of Cade Chase’s team—as having a benign form of psychosis. Benign, because she had not experienced a psychotic break. She was far short of being psychotic, but only because her brain and soul allowed her to manage her dissociative behavior well. The unconscious guides such people.

Then she saw the animal, a German Shepherd, from the looks of him at this remove. He probably belonged on one of the farms out here, where owners don’t feel obligated to pen or chain their animals. Suddenly she saw he was coming without surcease directly toward her. He was still a long way off, but she was now terrified.

Saskia.” A hand covered hers. Saskia frowned. It was irritating enough that she only had one hand to work with. She didn’t need to have the movement of that one impeded as well. “I’m in the middle of – Oh! Tania! What – I thought you were in Canberra.” “I was yesterday. I returned this morning.” “Yesterday?” Saskia turned from staring at Tania to staring at her computer and the table. A half-empty mug of something sat next to a partly eaten sandwich and a mostly empty glass of water. “Oh,” she sat back in her chair. “I do this sometimes. I get caught up in things.” Her gaze fell on the lines and boxes on the monitor’s screen. She sat forward, her surroundings disappearing from her awareness again. “Tania, I think I’m close to figuring it out.” Tania’s hand, still on Saskia’s, squeezed gently. “Good. But now you need to take a rest.” “No. I can finish this. I’m on a roll.” “Yes. You can roll again later.” “Look! I think I’ve almost worked it out.” She tugged her hand from under Tania’s and pointed to her computer screen, which showed a bank statement. “Look at these transactions. I can match them to –” Tania peered at the screen. “Whose statement is that?

Willie approached them solo at first, smiling and speaking Spanish. He asked them how they were doing and whether there were any hot chicks inside. Then he said, “Here, let me help you.” With that, he delivered an uppercut so strong it felt as if the punch ended only when it struck roly-poly’s backbone. Rufus came up behind the second guy and administered a kidney punch that would have the little fellow peeing blood for a month.

He wasn’t a reader of anything serious, but he had set himself the task of reading Walter Isaacson’s biography of Jobs, after which he entertained the idea of committing himself to a stay on the subcontinent in a hermitage to learn about Indian religions. He could find a yogi to give him the spiritual insights he sought. That would get him away from his boring wife and kids for a year at least, and who knew, maybe he could finagle a way never to come back.

You’re making me think of something else now, but it’s related. I love watching little kids play. No matter where you look in the world, you’ll observe that kids are programmed to play. They learn through play. I think if we’re lucky we never forget how to play. And, I tell you, Gwinlyn, that’s one of the things I find most attractive about you. You like to play, and you like to play with me. Unfortunately, too many women I’ve met prefer to be grown up all the time. They take themselves too seriously.

Gigi’s actual name was Jolene Kraken. If her penetralia was exposed, even Gigi herself would be surprised. She was smart, aloof, indifferent to the opinions of others. Maybe she was amoral. Maybe because self-analysis wasn’t her strong suit. Neither did self-analysis interest her. Her goal as a young woman was to make serious money, enough to set her up for a life in which she could romp and stomp through the world doing exactly what she wished. And frequently what she wished was to deliver justice to people with bad intentions. She wanted to hurt people who hurt people.

I’m sure everyone’s sorry and said they’re sorry, and you’ve heard it a thousand times. We all mean well, by the way. We just don’t have words.” I rubbed a hand over my forehead. Maybe that was the end of it. A little different than the standard lines. She meant well. Good talk. “It’s fine. Most people just say ‘sorry.’ I don’t need a speech.” “I’m not, though.” Her hair swished against my arm as she shook her head. “It’s sad your mother died. It is. Because of all the things she’ll miss. It’s very sad. But, I’m glad she lived.”