Ghost Hunter Book Novels & Stories

I screamed, rivalled by the blast of thunder and rain. Moving back, I tripped my leg and crumpled to the ground as the shadow started approaching me. "Bell! Anna!" I screeched helplessly, but when I turned around, no one was there. Gulping, I gradually shifted my gaze at the entrance. Boom! No one was there, just a black cat roaming around. Putting my hand over my chest, I gasped when suddenly I heard a husky voice right next to my ears. Someone mumbled, "Don't look into the cat's eyes."

He inhaled simultaneously, trying to catch any foreign scent. There was one another time he felt this way, while he visited the graveyard. He always thought it was because of that place. Now he couldn't shrug the feeling off like he did every other time. His wolf was alarmed and perked within his chest. "You got a stalker. It explains the strange presence and the murders," Logan stated, his eyes carefully combing the area. "They must be really good to not leave any clue or even a scent for that matter," Asher mused.

Sookie Stackhouse is a mind-reading waitress who falls in love with Bill Compton, a vampire who was turned after the Civil War. 14-15. A Touch Of Dead BY CHARLAINE HARRIS A Touch of Dead contains the complete Stackhouse short stories; a short-story volume, Many Bloody Returns, also has a Stackhouse story. 16-18. The Hunger, The Last Vampire, Lilith's Dream BY WHITLEY STRIEBER

It sat on my vanity, the white leather glowing with a faint, ghostly luminescence. “Ting.” The sound was soft, almost mournful. Task Thirty-Two: The Mother’s Audit. The Ledger is not a list of names. It is a map of the ‘Void-Nodes’ currently growing inside the North’s children. To stop the spread, you must find the ‘First Infection.’ Follow the silver thread that leads out of your window. I looked at the book, then at my sleeping husband. If I woke him, he’d burn the book and forbid me from leaving. He’d try to fight a ghost with a sword again.

the Architect said, smiling cruelly, “I’m not the only one hunting you. The Board kept a hundred books on their computer. Scary stories, war stories, stories of monsters that eat stars. Now, the walls between the books are gone.” As he spoke, the alley began mixing with other worlds. Off in the distance, Maya saw a metal dragon from a space story flying above a candy forest. Ghosts from an ancient horror tale wandered through a futuristic city of glass. Everything was colliding. The long path had turned into a nightmare. “We need to go,” Julian said, grabbing Maya’s hand. “The Ghostwriter said the secret is in the title of Chapter 100. We have to reach the end before this world becomes a sto

But the fear that had been gnawing at her for days pushed her forward. She opened the book. The first pages were cold, filled with business notes and travel schedules. But as she flipped forward, the handwriting changed—it became jagged, frantic, and deeply personal. Her eyes landed on a single sentence near the end: Some ghosts don’t stay buried because they were never dead. A chill crept down her spine, turning her blood to ice. Before she could process the words, the lights throughout the estate flickered once, buzzed, and died. The house fell into absolute, suffocating darkness.

Inside my apartment, I collapsed on the couch, my mind was everywhere. The photo. The rumors. The mask. The fear in his eyes. “Damn! I didn’t show him the picture again.” I can’t keep doing this blind. I grabbed my laptop and started digging deeper into “The Ghost.” I needed to know the whole truth. Because if I was going to stay fucking this man, if I was going to keep sucking his cum which I knew I wanted to stay. I had to know exactly what kind of beast I was falling for.

His books told me otherwise. I didn’t break my rhythm, stacking, straightening, dusting as though nothing at all had caught my attention. But the pattern was set, and I never ignored patterns. Three days in a row. Three books building a trail into shadows. And I was already following. ~~~~~~ The fourth day. He returned. No glasses slipping down as he read this time. No quiet hours spent in the chair by the window. He walked straight to the shelves, ran his hand along the spines, and pulled out a book without lingering. Chasing a Ghost No One Can See.

That means Dante would have to spend his time wandering the lore alone , that is if the moon goddess doesn’t kill him. Dust clouded the air as the ancient book hit the floor with a hollow thud, its cracked leather cover splitting at the seam. I didn’t flinch. Instead, my lips curved into a slow, sweet and satisfied smile, one that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Blood Moon... hybrids” I calmly murmured under my breath, reading the title aloud like it was a prophecy. “Its been a while since I went on a hunting spree.” "All it takes is one swift and clean motion and the lore would actually burn to ashes while I stand on the edge of the destruction and watch."

She felt as if she were outside of herself, looking down, and she became more and more confused. She read. And read. And read. Finally, it hit her like a lightning bolt: this book, it was hers. Her journal. The journal of a teenage girl. A story of coming of age. Of going back in time. Of falling in love with a man named Caleb. Of having a daughter named Scarlet. Of becoming a vampire. She wondered if she were losing her mind. Was this some sort of practical joke? Some sort of fantasy she’d had as a young girl? What was it doing here? How did her grandmother have it? And why was she only drawn to open it now, at this time?