Novel & Cerita Ghost Horror Books

His first novel Brotherhood of the Dragon contained another Amun adventure, while 2020 sees the release of his WW1 trench murder mystery, Golgotha. Brandon Ebinger: Brandon Ebinger is a horror/dark fantasy author who lives in upstate New York with his fiancé and two cats. He holds a BA in creative writing. He enjoys horror films,Gothic rock and punk music and video games. He is a huge fan of haunted attractions, and spends October as a haunt actor. Brandon has written four horror/dark fantasy novels, Ash, Hollow Hills, The Afflicted and Rose. He has also published a handful of short stories within the genre. He has recently finished his most recent novel Broken Night and is at work on a new

Shaking her head, she said, "But aren't you only like that because you idiotically accepted an accursed book from a nobody? You said, you don't even believe in ghosts before you got that." He sighed and took out the book which always appeared inside his pocket for several months now. The book was giving off a mysterious vibe due to its black worn-out cover featuring a faceless monster. He got it from a fake friend who had styled himself as a book collector. Nathan was a horror writer so he accepted the creepy book. His initial objective was only to look for more ideas and inspiration. Who would have thought the horror writer who never believed in ghost would suddenly start seeing creepy ghos

I further questioned him Hearing my question Draco face suddenly turned overcast as he said “It’s a Black blood ghost” “Black Blood Ghost?” I was stunned, I haven’t read anything about such a type of ghost in my grandmother book, and this looked something new and dangerous at same time.

“Were these any help, detective?” “I’m afraid not,” I said, defeated. I was in a bit of a daze after staring at projected newsprint on the dim screen. I leaned on the desk and looked around the building absentmindedly until my eyes finally settled on a small sign hanging on a table covered with a neat stack of books. “Warning: The Library is Not Responsible for Nightmares!” I read out loud, walking over to look at the books. Well-worn volumes with pink skulls grinning back at me from stickers on their spines. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Invisible Man.

Who was he, King Solomon of old? I didn’t doubt the Blotters, but I was getting to think that whatever was in the basement couldn’t be a demon. I mean, not a demon-demon, hooves, horns and a pretty condo waiting in hell. My money was on something down the food chain. Ghost hunters like to investigate places marked by tragedy, like old prisons and abandoned asylums, where negative emotions had left an indelible residual imprint on the buildings themselves. That kind of energy is bound to attract paranormal creepy crawlers like maggots to rotting flesh.

"Elias, she’s so hungry." "She’s gone, Clara! That isn't her!" I shouted, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince. That was three nights ago. Since then, the haunting has turned aggressive. We tried to sleep in the living room, but the smell followed us—the cloying, sweet scent of lilies mixed with something sour and metallic. We found tiny, damp handprints on the glass of the television. They weren't made of dirt. They were gray, smudged traces of something that looked like ash and formaldehyde.

She was there. Waiting. Her eyes moved over me once. Then she nodded. “Better.” I didn’t respond. I just stood there. Something still felt… off. I looked toward the hallway again. Then back at her. “What are those books?” I asked. Her expression didn’t change much. “What books?” “The ones in the other room.” A pause. Not long. But enough. “That room is not for you,” she said. Her voice didn’t rise. But it wasn’t open either.

"How did you find this place?" "Just passing through." He couldn't see Lorenzo's spirit, but he had caught a glimpse of the dissipating mist and the black residue on the ground. A chill ran down his spine. "This place is haunted!" Marco took a panicked step back. "Haunted?" I held up my phone, showing him the recording bar pulsing on the screen. "Marco, a traitor with blood on his hands like you would have a guilty conscience." "You… how much did you hear?" Marco gripped his gun, trying to feign composure.

I said as te two of us looked at all the books. "I know ever story of every book in here, and I'm familiar of all the contents that each book has. I've poured all of my emotions in these books and in this room," I aid as I helped Izzy put the scattered book on the floor into the box in between us, "I asked myself why I kept seeing shadows here, why I kept having creepy experiences here, and as I prayed after mom left my room, I realized something." I stood up and grabbed more books as Izzy just looked at me and followed me with her eyes. She had a look of both confusion and interest as I looked sadly at the book on my hand.

He stood straight with a serious face as he began his explanation. "Ghosts are the souls of dead humans who... well, aren't ready to rest in peace. They don't have powers. All they can do is move from one place to another without being seen. Well, not by everyone though." "But... if you're a demon, why then are you in this form?" She couldn't help but ask.