Ghost Lover: Stories Novels & Stories

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.

77 in cash. The ghost story doesn't end. It just multiplies.

And the silence hurts worse than anything. End of story 3

Then he said, "I stopped running from them. I turned around. I faced them. I looked into their eyes, and I saw that they were not ghosts. They were me. They were my guilt. My fear. My shame. And when I saw that, they disappeared." Lysander read to me in the evenings, his grey eyes calm, his words soothing. He chose stories of wolves who had faced the darkness and survived, of wolves who had lost everything and found hope, of wolves who had been haunted and had learned to let go. The dark dagger was on the table beside him, its blade pulsing faintly. "The ghosts are not your enemies," he said. "They are your teachers. They are showing you what you need to heal. They are showing you where you

Wendy looked confused. She didn't understand why I asked her that. I continued, "If you love me, why have you never once prepared a gift for me on your own accord? If you love me, why have you always refused to take vacations with me? If you love me, why would you get pregnant with another man's baby and even do a wedding photoshoot with him? "I'm human, you know. My heart hurts and bleeds just like everyone else's. If this is what it means to be loved by you, then I'm sorry, but it's not for me."

she softly whispered. His lips trembled as he replied, “More than my life itself.” “Then don’t choose silence,” she urged. “Not for yourself. Not for me.” The ghost’s laughter cut through both of them. “Beautiful lies. She tells you not to choose. But when the gravestone closes, she will be the one erased.” Vincent felt the words twist inside him like sharp blades. The ghost stretched out a smoky hand, and the journal appeared in its grip, with its pages fluttering open like wings. It glowed red as it opened, revealing dozens of names carved in blood within its pages.

**Host’s Introduction** The lights dim even lower now. Some confessions are born from love. Others from greed. But the darkest ones… come from desperation. Tonight’s story is about a young woman who offered her body to save her brother. She thought it would be one month of hell. She had no idea she was signing away her soul to a man who collects women like trophies… and breeds them like property. Welcome to the confession of Lila Kane. --- **Story 2: Debt of Flesh**

In the moonlight, a woman in a white lace dress was kneeling on the stone steps of the chapel, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling. She had no feet. Below her dress, there was only a swirling black mist. "I see her." Lorenzo let out a low whistle. "Two years ago, Marco put her in the ground right there. Her ashes are buried under the rose bushes behind the chapel." I didn't stop, walking straight toward the chapel. Giovanni froze behind me but didn't dare to call out. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the female ghost's head snapped up. She lunged at me, her face a sickly pale green, her eye sockets empty black pits.

Tasha was devastated about the reality of her being a ghost. She thought she was dead, she had dreams. Even if she acted like a slut whose only interests were parties and getting boys hard for fun. She wanted to be a doctor, just to save lives. But everything was never gonna happen for her, and she thought everything had ended for her.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Of course, I should treat Maisie well.” She handed me a gift box and asked me to open it. Inside was a gold lock-shaped good-luck pendant. Everyone gasped. “That must have cost a fortune!” In my previous life, I was pleasantly surprised that Zoe even remembered my birthday. Seeing such an expensive gift moved me even more. However, I had not known then that the pendant was a cursed one! Once worn, it would swap my fate with her boyfriend’s! Back then, I ran a high fever for an entire week. There was no warning, no explanation. Even the doctors were helpless.