Best Halloween Books For Grownups の小説・ストーリー

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.

For this town is special, and its citizens terrifying. Mrs. Hagatha Belfry stepped out of her front door and onto the porch with a cup of tea in hand. Throughout the town, even though it was winter and snowy in the surrounding wood, autumn leaves sprouted from every limb of every branch of every tree, and the fallen leaves were replaced by new leaves overnight. Lilith’s Hollow is graced by the autumn season all year round, thanks to a witch’s spell from one who lived in town long before Mrs. Belfry’s centuries of residency there. After all, this was the town that Halloween built. Mrs. Belfry, along with all of the werewolves, zombies, mad doctors, monsters, ogres, and more mythical creatures

She kind of looked like a demon. Carefully as not to startle her, he settled on the opposite side of their table and asked in a low voice, "What are you looking for?" The books she stacked on the table caught his attention. "'The Expanded History of Death'," he read the titles aloud, "'Funerals through the Ages'. 'Life after Death: the Existence of the Afterlife'. 'Creatures of the Night'. Are you trying to know more about Hellborns and the Underworld?" Calix was a lot of things, but unfortunately, he wasn't thick, Kat lamented. "Yes."

She walked to the whiteboard, picked up a marker, and wrote in large capital letters, the word IMMORTALITY. "I understand that next week you will be moving away from Shakespeare and jumping into Gothic horror literature ... just in time for Halloween." General interest spiked. Halloween was a favorite holiday for most students. Me? My life was already a nightmare. Who needed costumes when real monsters were already roaming our town? "By any chance, has anyone read The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde?" asked Mrs. Jackson. Students looked around at each other, but no one raised their hand. "How about Bram Stoker's Dracula?"

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?”

The books were a revelation. Jasmine traced the leather scrollwork on a book’s blood red cover, admiring the craftsmanship. The gilt edges of the pages and the gold title winked in her reading light. The Haunt were a people who took pride in their literature and wrote even their histories with passion. No bloodless recitals of bare facts here. She scooted down against her raised pillows, seeking a more comfortable position. It was after midnight, but her mind was too seduced by the glory of Haunt history to give in to slumber. The first book she’d read had barely mentioned charmers, but this one seemed more promising.

she bowed her head and offered Electra a carved turnip. “Thank you,” Electra said, accepting the gift. The woman bowed slightly and then scurried away. “Turnip carving predates the pumpkin. The pumpkin is more of an American thing.” “I did not know that. I just thought we did turnips because we were werewolves,” he admitted as a woman gave them each a soul cake. “Just another part of our pagan heritage.” “Wiccan,” Electra said softly. “Halloween is based on the Wiccan holiday Samhain. Our lineage predates that branch of religion.”

These numbers were written on the drawn-out full moon on the bottle right of the book’s front page, and, being set beside each other in the formal order, the full moon glowed. What were the odds I’d find such books at a children’s store? The rude young lady at the store was right about one thing. These weren’t children’s storybooks; they appeared best suited for adults from the first chapter on. The only thing that made it seem like a child’s book were the sizes and drawings on them. Then it hit me. Everything wasn’t as it seemed. The older woman had gotten me these books from the inner room, only for the salesgirl to deny the books and the existence of the old woman at the store.

Sweat trickled down his face as the rattling stopped. Eliseo waited, but there was no sound. He placed both hands on the door carefully and listened. He couldn’t hear anything. With a deep breath, he unlocked the door and opened it very slowly. Halloween Night, 1992 The lights were bright in this neighborhood, and the decorations were amazing. One house went all out with the decorating. Classic horror icons stood in the yard along with a large pumpkin glowing behind them for an eerie effect. A picture of a black cat covered the entire front door. Eliseo stopped to admire the decorations. He wished he had a camera right now.