Ghost Reading Book Novels & Stories

Even though the books the two of them were holding did not match the alphabetical order on the shelf. Ria rolled her eyes and laughed inwardly. Correct. There must be a lot of ghosts in this library. Ghost that looked like a Loren… ** In the afternoon, Ria had returned home. Now she was calmer because she had got some references about what she was looking for. Based on the research she had done in books and the internet, Ria drew a conclusion. Ghost is the energy from the memory that left behind. This is supported by the fact that she dreamed about that figure when he was still alive and living in this house.

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Layla managed to grab the book and add it to her stack in her arms when her eyes caught sight of something. A book stood out among the rest. It was bound with dark brown leather and had brandished designs on the spine. The title read - Malleus Vampiro: A Treatise on Vampires. Placing her other books on the floor, Layla pulled the leather-bound book from its home amongst the others and opened it. As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS.

I reached out and pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. My voice was cold, cutting through the static. "Mason Vale, do you see a ghost in your mirror?" I said coldly into the radio. Those words pierced straight through Mason's last line of composure. His car hesitated for an obvious instant on the straight. Now. I smashed the throttle down. The car tore through the air and pulled alongside him. Ahead was a chain of fast S-curves. Seeing that I was about to pass, a vicious look flashed through Mason's eyes.

But your mother's about to die—I know you'll show up. Her words jolted me back to reality. I pressed a hand to my chest, where my heart ached with a dull, numbing pain. How I wished I could tell her myself. That I've been here all along. It's just that... I've been dead for four years.

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.

he whispers. That thought terrifies me more than anything because I knew that Ghost has her scent now and no matter where she goes, he is willingly to follow her to the ends of the earth……fuck. I go back inside, fall onto the bed and open the book, tracing the first line with my thumb.

“They don’t like it when I say I’ve already been there.” “Hard to go somewhere you don’t believe in.” He mused. “True statement.” She agreed. “I pulled a few books for you. Don’t feel like you have to all of them. Or even any of them.” “I appreciate this. I’m not sure what to think about all of this.” “The woman? The feelings you have? Or the gifts she has?” Giving her a wry smile, he asked, “Do I have to pick just one?” “Absolutely not.” Ciara shuffled the books and pulled one out, handing it over. “This one is about ghosts. I also pulled a few about white covens.”

It was displayed. My chest tightened as I lifted it with a gloved hand. The scent hit immediately, chemical, sharp, layered with something metallic underneath. Chlorine and cold steel. A smell I had not encountered in years but recognized all the same. It was the same ghost note that had clung to the air the night my parents died. This was not chaos. It was not a fight gone wrong or a rogue passing through. This was intent. Someone had gotten close enough to Owen to inject him, or had taken him elsewhere and left this behind as a message. Either option required control, preparation, and knowledge of what we were.

By the time Richard arrived, the funeral was almost over. Everyone who had come to say goodbye was gone. Only I remained. I wanted a little more time with Chloe. She'd always been clingy. And she was afraid of the dark. "Richard, see? I told you Selena was lying. If this were really a funeral, why is nobody here? This is obviously another stunt to get you to come home." Grace's voice cut through the silence. Richard's face darkened.

Goddess, I hated that word almost as much as I hated keeping up with Alpha Hunter’s ruse. Setting my breakfast down on a nearby table, Sterling hummed quietly. As he turned, his lips twitched clearly fighting a smile. “Actually, I was referring to you sleeping in the library, but by all means you may continue.” I gave him a flat glare which coaxed a chuckle from him, “Fine, but remember you’re the one who said it, not me.” His eyes dropped, scanning my rumpled clothes with interest. “Did you know a ghost roams this very library? Some old scholar type who died of a heart attack in the armchair right over there by the window. He tells me you found something but won’t elaborate on what it is.”