Feminist Horror Books Novels & Stories

“You are pathetic.” Her body flinched at my words, but another wave of shivers covered her arms. “Dirty little doll.” The more I talked, the more her nipples were standing at attention, the more her breathing was getting heavier, the more her hands were gripping the fabric they were tied with. My fingers traced her leg. “I bet you are one of the people who like reading p**n books in public.” I moved to her other leg, gripping her ankle. “I bet you keep a straight face while your panties are getting soaked.”

Mom supported me, not because she understood, but because she loved me and wanted me to be happy. I stood up and walked around the library, feeling a little restless. They had all of the classics, and some of them looked as though they were expensive copies. Other authors that I regularly read, such as James Patterson and Dean Koontz were on the shelves. They even had some of my female favorites, such as Lisa Jackson, Lisa Gardner and Heather Graham Pozzessere. Then I wondered down to another section where I found some more provocative books. They had a lot of erotica books. One huge volume stood out: The Kama Sutra.

she murmured, tilting her head. Drawn by fascination, she found the rolling ladder attached to the bookshelf and climbed carefully. Her fingers trailed over several thick volumes—Blood Oaths and Moonlight, Fangs of Fire, The Treaty of Shadows. The illustrations on the covers were beautiful yet chilling, with fanged creatures, glowing eyes, and moons stained crimson. With great care, she pulled down four books and descended, arms full. She found the oversized reading chair near the window and curled into it, flipping open the first book.

She didn't even cast us a glance, she just took a seat by the fire, drowning herself in a book. Everything was still again until Kane pulled me into the small pantry area. He dropped to his knees, pulled down my leggings, and ate my cum-filled pussy until I had to bite my own arm to keep from moaning. He made me come twice on his tongue before standing up, spinning me around, and fucking me against the shelves. Each risky encounter made the danger sweeter. Each time he filled me, the breeding obsession grew stronger. But the guilt was crushing me. As he rose to his feet, I turned to find him glistening with my juices. My breathing came heavily, my knees buckling. I crashed into him, leaning

FREAKY AFTER DARK: CONTENT WARNINGS What You're About To Read This collection doesn't do safe. It doesn't do vanilla. If you're looking for paranormal romance where the monsters are basically humans with extra features, keep scrolling. Freaky After Dark is unapologetically filthy paranormal erotica where supernatural beings act like the feral, dominant, possessive creatures they actually are. These stories are designed for readers who've been waiting for monster romance that actually commits to the monster part.

I asked her curiously as I sat comfortably on her couch and the three of them sat on the big one adjacent to mine. "Well, I believe that there's nothing to be scared of. The ghosts, vampires, witches, and werewolves are just in the books. Right? Fiction. Not real." My oblivious girlfriend explained, and that made the three of us, supermarket beings, look at each other. If you just knew, Pryce. None of us here is purely human. "Uh, yeah, yeah. They're just in the books. Horror books. They are a product of one's creative minds… and to scare people." Sander agreed with her best friend. Now, I really don't know how we will tell Pryce about the whole truth.

Nyla’s POV I'm drawing a pentagram on my apartment floor with sidewalk chalk at midnight on a Tuesday because apparently this is what my life has come to. There’s a leather-bound book open beside me, old, as if it survived the Victorian era. I found it at an estate sale last weekend, buried under a box of porcelain cats, which feels like the universe burying a loaded gun inside a Build-A-Bear. It was quite an… interetsing book. The chapter I keep returning to shows a naked woman arched on her back on the floor, with a demon-man like being, with extra limbs, and an abnormally huge-sized cock burried inside her pussy.

But he was not finished. “You feel it, don’t you, little witch?” he purred, voice like smoke curling around my ears. “My essence is already changing you. Making you hungry for more.” Before I could answer, shadows exploded from his back. They were not normal shadows. These were living things. Thick, black, glistening tentacles that moved with sinister grace. They wrapped around my wrists and ankles, lifting me effortlessly into the air. The texture was warm and slick, almost velvet-soft but impossibly strong. They spread my legs wide, exposing my cum-dripping pussy completely.

Text crawled over their skin in places, dissolving and rewriting, never landing long enough to become fixed. “You cut us apart when it hurt too much to look,” the girl from “Salt & Silence” said. “When you got close to something raw, you slammed the laptop shut and told yourself you’d ‘come back to it later.’” “You made us suffer so you didn’t have to,” the villain said. “You exorcised your ghosts into us and then left us holding them.” The words hit harder than they should have. Because they weren’t entirely wrong. I wrote horror to survive.

I didn’t even have time to stop him. Finn turned his wild, bloodshot eyes on me next. I saw the thought cross his mind—he needed to unlock two locks, after all. Before he could make a move, Lily gave a cold laugh. Her white dress rippled and swelled, transforming into a living meat grinder. With one bite, Finn disappeared. In seconds, the hallway was filled with flying scraps of red flesh. Blood splattered across Lily’s once-white dress, dyeing it completely crimson. She looked at the falling gore and whispered, her childlike voice calm and eerie,