Ghost Bride Novels & Stories

She reacted to his fiery kiss with equal fervour as he bit her lips, prying his tongue into her mouth. It was a strange phenomenon. Ghosts could not be touched or seen by normal people. But the custom of a ghost marriage binds a couple in such a way, that they can invoke passions in each other as well. Chaerin felt desire, sexual attraction and felt every touch of Joonjae's.

Though, if you fancy, you're welcome to crash here every now and then. Fuming, I ended the call and instructed the butler to put the house on the market. On the wedding day, I waited at the hotel's entrance, anticipating Larissa's arrival in her bridal car. That was when Holly showed up, clad in a bridal gown, her face twisted with scorn. Murmurs spread through the crowd. "Isn't the bride supposed to be from the Smith family?" "She's not, and the Yates family didn't even invite them. What's she doing here?"

It was a war dress; the female goblins were equal in strength to the male ones. The gold on her face and on her dress dazzled under the sun. Nio, as instructed the night before, standing in front of the pair, took Shieena by the hand, knelt down, and handed it to Ghtraht. It was a gesture of submission. The father or giver of the bride, in this case Nio, has shown that he gives his protégé to a stronger and more deserving goblin. But the whole show served another purpose

I was sound asleep the night before the wedding when a video call from my best friend, Eve, came in. “Aisling, my wedding’s starting in half an hour. Where is my maid of honor?” I pulled back the curtains and stared in resignation at the still night at one in the morning. “Eve, what are you talking about? It’s not even dawn. Who gets married in the wee hours? You’re working overtime as my alarm clock.” It was a pause on the line until Eve’s camera shifted to the blue skies behind the groom. “Are you still asleep, Aisling? It’s morning. “Our families have arrived. Everyone’s waiting on you. Get here quickly.” The call ended, and I snapped awake. Judging by the family members caught in

In broad daylight, they saw a tall, strikingly handsome man carrying… a female ghost in a white wedding dress with a grotesque, terrifying face. They rubbed their eyes in unison. A person holding a ghost? Were young couples really this bold now?

he complimented as he placed the cup down on the saucer. "Thank you for the compliment," Hue responded. Horan left the forest villa and returned to the Immigration Hall. As soon as he arrived, a Grim Reaper approached him with a woman dangling motionlessly on its shoulder. Horan glanced at the woman on the reaper's shoulder, "Is she the lost human from the Forbidden Forest?" "Yes," the black-hooded reaper responded. "What happened to her? Why is she not moving?" he asked again. He was worried that the reaper brought a corpse back from the Forbidden Forest because if that happened, he would have a lot to explain to Queen Reality.

I froze. I stared at my reflection, touching my face with trembling fingers. I was dressed in a white ceremonial gown, pure white without a single stain. I was stunning. My eyes sparkled like stars, my bridal makeup flawless. My hair was simply styled and secured with a small jeweled crown, my veil fluttering in the breeze from the open window. This can’t be happening. Was the Moon Goddess giving me a second chance? “It’s almost time. I don’t know why you’re acting this way, but I’ll be waiting at the hall. Adrian too,” Mirabel said, and left the room.

I say giving her a small nod, watching as she leaves the room. A few minutes later, the door opens, and Ghost walks out dressed for the wedding. He looks good—sharp suit, crisp lines, but still unmistakably him. He fastens his gun holster with a muttered, “Everyone’s getting checked.” I raise an eyebrow. “You won’t need a gun at the wedding,” I say with a smirk. “You might change your mind,” he counters. “And if you do, I’m shooting you before you get the chance to run.” I snort. “Fair play.”

The real Elara walked to the vanity, picked up my lipstick, the same crimson shade I wore the night I died, and painted her mouth slowly. “You’re not Elara Voss,” I said, voice trembling with rage I didn’t know I still had. “I am.” “Are you?” She turned, lips bloody red. “Then why can I feel the baby kick when you can’t? Why do I remember the first time he kissed me under the blood moon while you only remember dying?” She stepped closer, and the air turned cold, like someone had opened a grave. “Let me tell you a secret, little ghost,” she whispered. “You were never the real bride. You were the decoy. The spare. The sacrificial lamb raised by wolves to die so the real Luna could live.”

Everything had changed. As I wore the wedding gown Luca had picked out for me, my cousin's child came running over with an olive branch. "Aunt Giada, Uncle Luca told me to bring this to you!" I reached out and took it, only to see a note attached. "Giada, I know you're about to become my bride, but it still feels unreal. It's as if this is all a dream—and when I wake, I'll still be the one standing on the university field, secretly watching you walk beside Carlo."