Best Southern Gothic Literature Novels & Stories

Turning the music off, I grab the lavender and put it in a tiny glass vase, and set it in the center of the long ebony black dining table. Walking out of the conjoined dining room and kitchen I grab my book, my water bottle, and a blanket. I set the water and blanket by the back door that leads to the porch, and the beach a little off, and head back to the kitchen with my book. Of human bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham. The book itself isn't bad, but from my point of view, it's terribly bland. I like more poetic works. But also a hint of darkness. The best example is the poem, In the Desert, by Stephen Crane, from his book The Black Riders and Other Lines. It has a sense of dystopia that I ca

Callie just gave her a wide doggy smile. After cleaning up, they pulled out Rose’s futon and curled up together. Although the sex was amazing, Seth had to admit he liked this part almost as much. Which meant he was turning into a total sap. He could just imagine what Max would’ve said: Watch out. You’re not getting out of that trap anytime soon, man. Seth moved his hand under his pillow, only to find a book there. He pulled it out. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. “Oh, I’d forgotten I’d put that there.” Rose took the book from him, smiling. “This is one of my favorites.” Her eyes widened. “The hero’s name is Mr. Thornton, actually. John Thornton.”

After resting for a while, they walked around and saw a bookstore which they both agreed to enter. She was reading the back of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen when Jacob asked her. “What do you say let’s read horror books? Like the ones we watched today?” “Eh? I’m scared. You go read first, then give me a summary, then I’ll decide. Haha!” “Roger!” as he picked The Dunwich Horror and Others by H.P. Lovecraft and IT by Stephen King. They finished book shopping, it was around three in the afternoon when Jacob invited her to go somewhere else.

“Take a seat.” I found an empty chair in the back room, hyper aware of his eyes following me. When I finally settled in and looked up, he was staring at me with an expression I couldn't read. “As I was saying,” Professor Vane continued, “Gothic literature explores the forbidden, what the world as we know it now calls abnormal, the desires we tell ourselves we shouldn't have. The attractions that defy logic and morality.” Each time his eyes flicked back to me, my cheeks burned.

Clearing my throat again, I try to will away the heat rash that I can already feel blooming across my chest and neck – my tell-tale sign of being either nervous, or too drunk. "So, we basically saw Southern Gothic arise in the early 19th century. It's a super distinguishable form... or, uh, mode... of literature. It's filled with an identifier, something called 'the grotesque.' We have a lot of feelings of alienation and darkness that's indicative of the struggles that ran rampant in the American South during that time period, and the authors often sought to point out the moral shortcomings of the South. Slavery. Patriarchy. Racism. That sort of thing. So, a lot of delusional characters. Mad

She muttered, looking down at the photographs she still clutched. She found her way to the kitchen, found philberts hidden keys. He would change the spot he hid them once he found out she knew. She poured herself hot buttered rum instead of the cherry juice he would expect from her. The both had placed a ban on alcohol, and not to be taken before sleep if ever. She picked up a mystery novel, one titled of monsters and men abandoned on the counter. Perharps school literature? Non of the both of them read fiction. The stereotypical Gothic heroin is inquisitive and brave in these kind of literatures, she would be beautiful, but more than a damsel in distress, making her thus, the target of the

And I treat many people to coffee and tea for free - no need to worry about this. The coffee machine rattled noisily, grinding beans. —Where is your section with horror literature? Thrillers? “Everywhere,” Yuna looked around at all the shelves in her field of vision. — We have a shop with a narrow specialization, there is practically no popular literature, especially sentimental prose, women’s fantasy and ironic detective stories. But there is a variety of alternatives, horror, mysticism, thrillers, dystopias. In general, we buy everything that other stores take for testing sales. With second-hand books, things are similar.

“No doubt.” “What about those two small FedEx boxes?” “Most recent novels from Samhain Horror.” “Awesome. Those books I bought at the Webb County Library sale last week?” “Sorted into general and mystery fiction. Struck the mother lode with all those Mary Higgins Clark novels.” “We cater to all tastes, miss. Unless you like Twilight, 50 Shades of Gray or James Patterson. Folks want drivel, they can drive to Utica.” “Hey. I actually liked Twilight. It wasn’t all bad.”

"I rather enjoy gothic novels. L. R. Gloucester has a new book out. Lady Gloria and the Earnest Earl." Castles, supernatural forces, and dire stakes were something that delighted her? James couldn't fault her for that; he had a fondness for such things as well. "I've read one or two of those. Most amusing, if I do say so. Towers and storms and passionate affairs. It's exciting, isn't it?" He trailed a fingertip along the shelf nearest him, tapping the spine of each book as he walked. "It is," Miss Beaumont admitted. "What do you enjoy reading, Lord Pembroke?"

Sally couldn’t understand much of what he wrote, but she found one entry, towards the end of the journal, very interesting: November 21st ___ Success! Sweet and blessed success. Finally I have the vindication I long sought. My heart is so light I believe I could burst out into song, were it not for my awful voice and the shocked dismay of the servants, who already think my habits queer enough. I have lost several days to poring over the Grimoire, a dense and obscure text to be sure, but not an unrewarding one, given careful study. Though I know nothing about the author’s character, or any detail of his life, he could perhaps have been a brother of mine (or even a sister?), so closely aligned