Ghost Hunter Book Novels & Stories

I could barely breathe, could barely see. When the smoke cleared… Luca was gone. Wolf was unconscious, burnt, and barely breathing. And Saint, Elena, Bishop, and Derek… were nowhere to be seen. I staggered to my knees, chest heaving, heart shattering. The last thing I saw before darkness took me… a faint red glow in the distance. A spark plug. And a shadow moving toward it… deliberate, unstoppable. Perfect! Here’s Chapter 20 – Echoes of Betrayal for Ghost on the Highway, taking the story to its most intense, emotional, and shocking point yet, with a cliffhanger that will leave readers desperate for the next instalment.

What he stood to gain from killing the man. Yet I couldn’t ask them. At least not now. Not until I understood my heart. I clutched the book I borrowed from the library tightly to my chest as I crossed the lawn. It was a book about spirit wolves. Ancient beings that existed before wolves came into light. It’s been two days since I started reading it, trying to understand what I saw that night at the shore. Trying to make sense of the being that stood in the light that nearly took my sight from me. At the same time, I was trying to distract myself from Vincent and the silence between us. I stepped onto the lawn, walking past the fountain when I noticed the eyes watching from a distance.

"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.

It seemed desolate, as if Jeniece had never come back since that day. A rusted rack caught his attention, and upon it lay a pile of books, their covers worn and edges worn. He reached for one, its brittle pages crumbling in his hands, each page stained with the yellow hue of age. These books, ancient and forgotten, held secrets that had been hidden in plain sight, truths we had been blind to. Just as Hunter began to delve into the faded words, a shiver ran down his spine. He wasn't alone. Instinctively, he spun around, his whip slicing through the air with deadly speed. But before the whip could find its mark, it was caught mid-strike.

Her eyes fell on a book with a black cover, the gold letters reading: “The Art of Breaking Chains.” She pulled it free, curiosity winning, and curled into his leather chair. The chair was far too big for her, swallowing her small frame, but she felt oddly safe in it. Before she realized, her eyelids grew heavy. The book slipped onto her lap as she drifted into sleep. Hunter returned late, his mood thunderous after the ring, after Geret. His mind was sharp, his body burning with violence he hadn’t been able to unleash fully. But the instant he stepped into the quiet house, he sought her.

“I feel that this is it. Whatever it is I am meant to find, I feel that it is here. My father, he said that the island was a big place. I think that what he meant was that the Notre Dame was not the only place on the island to search. That our final clue is beside the Notre Dame.” They walked to the door, preparing to open it, when suddenly, the door opened wide, startling them. Before them stood a tall, strikingly beautiful vampire, wearing a white robe and hood. She pulled it back, revealing light blue eyes and long, brown hair. She looked right at Caitlin and smiled. “Caitlin,” she said. “We have been awaiting you. Welcome.” Caitlin and Caleb exchanged a glance. The woman stepped aside, a

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I ran my fingers over the embossed title: Nightstalkers; Hunting the Creatures of the Night. As I opened the book, I felt a shiver run down my spine. The pages were old and worn, their corners curling up from years of use. The illustrations within were both beautiful and terrifying, depicting hunters fighting against the creatures I had come to learn about; werewolves, vampires, and other beasts of the night. As I read through the book, I felt my heart racing with excitement and fear. I learned about the different types of hunters and their techniques for tracking and killing these dangerous creatures. Fear overtook me as I thought of Dorian, fighting ag

“Where is the book?” “I hid it. She has no idea it’s not the original. She thinks the real Book of Whispers survived. I guessed what she was after quickly, during our first few days here when her stories stopped adding up. She isn’t a healer.” “She’s a monster.” A sharp, cold wind thunders through the cottage. Darkness swallows the sky even though it’s morning. Chills cover my entire body as I look up, the room settling into total, unnerving silence. The world seems to stop.

he snapped. No hesitation. No pleasantries. I followed. As soon as we were behind closed doors, he turned on me. "What the hell happened?" I handed him the torn book. He flipped through the pages, expression darkening with every turn. "Where did you find this?" "Hidden between two others. Looked like someone tried to bury it." He closed the book, fingers tightening around the spine. "Those vampires weren’t random." "Who were they?" His voice dropped to a near growl. "Spine Watchers. An old sect. They specialize in erasing dangerous knowledge."

If my mate was somewhere out there, it was doubtful he wouldn't be partying on the Hill of all places. Men came and went throughout the night but I paid them no mind. That was until I felt intense burning eyes on me. First it felt like heat coursing down my spine. Goosebumps rose over every inch of my body. I couldn't turn around. I couldn't face the man that had instilled such a sensation inside of me. “Who said you could wear that?” a voice hissed against my ear from behind. I knew that voice. Everyone in Grey City knew that voice. Warmth lynched the side of my neck and I pinched my eyes close before turning around.