Ghost Spider Invitation Novels & Stories

Because it had the word ‘invitation’ written boldly in gold above the paper. Like a child learning how to read, I read the writing out loud. “Good day, Mrs. Joanne. I, personally, am happy to invite you to my private gala at the grand castle in the city center. Which will hold at exactly 8:00 p.m. tomorrow and will feature a three-course dinner, entertainment, and an auction. I look forward to your presence. I hope to see you. Sincerely, Trevor Jones.” And that was it. I flipped the paper sideways to check for any other hidden writing, but there was nothing.

But the girl had opened her big mouth to say, "I ain't going no boring place with ya. I'm perfectly fine with the stable life here." With the subtle chilly sensation surrounding her, Geneva opened the door. She refused to spare the bedroom a glance. Sitting rigidly on the sofa, she awaited her fate. "Let's get married now," the straightforward ghost said without a change in his features. "Nooooo. No, no, no, noooo!" She shouted, jumping from the sofa. She shook her hands and head to solidify her non-compliance. She wondered when the ghost had change back to his human form to intimidate her the more.

The invitation hadn't come by mail. It had appeared as a ghost-file on Alexander’s encrypted server, a digital wax seal that bled crimson across the screen of his tablet. The Solstice Gala. It was the city’s most exclusive den of vipers, a night where the elite wore silk masks to hide the fact that they were devouring each other’s legacies.

Philip chuckled and said while exhaling a puff of smoke, “Do dispense with the compliments. Why are you looking for me?” Moses stopped beating around the bush and said directly, “Half a month later, there will be an evening dinner in Hampton where giants from all fields and industries will gather. I’d like to invite you and your family to participate. This is the invitation.” With that said, Moses took out an invitation card and handed it to Philip. Philip glanced at the invitation and opened the envelope casually. The invitation card inside was very luxurious and gilded. On the front were details regarding the congregation in Hampton.

The gala invitation arrived sealed in black wax. No crest. No sender. Adrian held it in his hand for a long time before finally breaking the seal. Inside was a folded cream parchment embossed with shimmering gold ink. You are cordially invited to the Midnight Foundation's Annual Gala. Theme: Legacy in Motion Time: Midnight. Venue: Disclosed upon RSVP. Adrian’s lips tightened. "Why now?" I leaned over his shoulder. The moment I read the last line, my stomach tightened.

It was a peppermint candy wrapped in red and black foil. I picked it up, flipping it to examine it. “That looks ominous.” I failed to see the Christmas charm in it. “It's an invitation,” Tyler revealed. I raised a brow. “To what? Some Goth Christmas party?” Tyler let out a low chuckle, stepping further inside with casual strides like he owned the place. “Some annual Christmas party hosted by some high school seniors apparently.“ So it could be goth. I quirked up a brow, waiting for the punchline of his joke. “You're joking.“

I never could have the throne anyway. “That’s fine,” I said, though the words felt hollow. Marcus leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Anyway, I heard Alpha Asher is hosting a party. He’s sent out an invitation— well, two actually. One for the Nightshades and the other for our pack.” He placed two invitations on my desk, the elegant script catching the light. I glanced at them, my interest minimal. “Not interested,” I said, focusing on the file before me. Or at least, I pretended to.

“What upcoming events?” Georgia opened the slim black folder in her hand, adjusting her glasses slightly as she sat on the edge of the armchair across from Rebecca. “So,” she began carefully, “these are the public-facing invitations that came in over the past week. Some already assumed you'd be available again... given the news.” Rebecca raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Nightshade Heights. My father's pack. Ryder looks up from his eggs. "What is it?" "I don't know yet." My hands shake as I pick it up. The paper feels heavy, significant. Like whatever's inside is going to change things. I tear it open. Inside is a formal invitation printed on thick cardstock with silver embossing. Alpha Dominic Rys and Celeste Whitmore request the honor of your presence at their mating ceremony. The words blur together. I have to read them three times before they make sense.

My stomach flips—not gonna lie, part satisfaction, mostly shock. “You’re deadass?” I ask, voice soft. “How do you even know?” He pushes himself up suddenly, sniffling, and fumbles his phone out of his grey sweatpants pocket with shaking hands. He nearly drops it twice before thrusting it at me like the screen itself burned him. I take the phone and look. A rose-gold digital invitation fills the screen. Elegant cursive script. Zoey Amara Coleman and Kent Blackwood. Four weeks from today. Yacht wedding in the Mediterranean. Plus-one only .