Author Scary Books Novels & Stories

I shrugged, putting my pillow on my lap and placing on it the book I had snagged off the bookshelf. “You read horrors?” Liam asked, eying my book. “Yes, I read and love them.” I couldn’t hide my smile. “Do you?” “Me?” He blinked, pointing to himself. “Who else? There’s no one here but us.” I pointed out, causing his cheeks to get a pink glow, and my smile grew. Aww, he was really adorable. “No, I don’t. I don’t mix well with horror of any kind— movies, books, or games— because I’m a scaredy cat. I can’t even stand scary campfire stories.”

Well, I hope that won’t happen. But honestly, it’s really scary that someone sends you texts telling you about what’s happening to you. Who wouldn’t be scared if a picture of me sleeping and going to the bathroom to take a bath was sent? He’s a total creep. Caleb said, that's too much for him to be a fan of me. Maybe next time I will really be kidnapped. Instead of helping me calm down and relax, he gave me a reason to overthink. I just hope that my stay here will be fine.

"I'm sorry that I wanted to see if you're alright." I shook my head at his sarcasm. Who did he think he was fooling? And it annoyed me even more that he saw me as such an idiot enough for him to leave those books right there where I could easily find them. Did he think that I did not have the mental capacity to identify what they were? Or he just did not see me as someone that would willingly open a book? "What is the meaning of this?" I bristled as I pointed at the shelf. "Books on everything about vampires? Including how to kill them? Really?"

PATHETIC DRAMATIC melted and re‑formed. SCARED CREATIVE “I made horror because I was scared,” I said. “Not because I was weak. I wrote bad things happening because bad things *were* happening, and it was the only way I could stand to look at them without going numb.” Memory flickered behind my eyes unbidden: me at thirteen, hunched over a spiral notebook while my parents argued in the next room. Me at sixteen, typing frantically after my sister had rolled her eyes at something that had gutted me. I'm hiding in horror books because at least *there is fear that had shape and rules and endings.

DO CHECK OR ADD OTHER BOOKS OF THE AUTHOR… *REVENGE ON THE MAFIA LORD *JUST ONE MONTH *THE LYCANS SIN YOU CAN ALSO CHECK MY I*******M PAGE, TO SEE THE APPEARANCE OF YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS,TO MAKE READING MORE FUN, PLEASE FOLLOW ME ALSO, IT'S A NEW ACCOUNT… I*******M @Vee_wr_ites. XoxoAUTHOR BLU~VEE.

The burly man with the scar circled Barbara like a predator, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Let's give them what they want," he sneered, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her head back. She gasped, her body tensing as pain shot through her scalp. Another man stepped forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He held up a knife, the blade gleaming under the harsh alley light. "Maybe we should give them a taste of blood," he said, running the tip of the blade down Barbara's cheek. She flinched, a whimper escaping her lips.

I murmured, gathering my things. At Row D, I ran my fingers across worn spines: Lycanthropy and Legends, Moon-bound, The Silver Curse. My pulse quickened as I pulled a heavy volume free. I whispered to myself, “Could I really…?” “Could you really what?” a voice came from behind me. I spun to see Fiona standing there, arms folded, a curious smile on her face. “Fiona! You scared me.” “Sorry.” She peered at the book in my hand. “Werewolves? That’s… unexpected. Planning a Halloween prank?”

I burst through a wall of tall grass And nearly collided with three wolves prowling into the clearing. Not rogues. Not Scar’s men. Rockan’s hunters. Jagged shadows ringed around their paws. Their fangs glinted in the dying light. They smelled blood. They smelled fear. They smelled me. “Shit” I spun around only to see Scar emerging from the fog behind me, wiping his blade on a cloth, unhurried. I was trapped. Wolves in front. Scar behind. Blood leaking from my side. Strength draining by the second.

he said. Scarlett looked at Viggo cynically and moved her lips, "Since when?" "Shut up and go along with it," Viggo whispered. "Is that so? Well, it's a small world... Oh, by the way," Karina said, then turned around and took something out of her bag. Karina turned back and handed Scarlett a novel written by Scarlett titled "The Underworld of Werewolves," which had just been written by Scarlett. "Can I ask for your autograph? I've been looking forward to this moment, so I always carry your novel with me wherever I go," Karina requested.

Maybe that is the reason why I have no problem in communicating even if I don’t talk to people much. ‘This Time I Will Not Love You' This novel sounds so hurting. I think I won’t be interested in this since I have no love life or whatsoever. ‘To The World I Wish…’ ‘Reckoning Love…’ ‘Mystery Caller' ‘Untold Secrets…’ ‘Unfolding Secrets…’ JUST WHY THE HELL DOES IT SOUNDS SO SPOOKY?!?!? “Alright let’s look for other books to read...” I tried to calm myself just to not let me feel the spookiness in the titles of the books I saw. A very interesting book caught my attention. Unlike the others, it was… handwritten.