Horror Novel Recommendations Novels & Stories

Shaking her head, she said, "But aren't you only like that because you idiotically accepted an accursed book from a nobody? You said, you don't even believe in ghosts before you got that." He sighed and took out the book which always appeared inside his pocket for several months now. The book was giving off a mysterious vibe due to its black worn-out cover featuring a faceless monster. He got it from a fake friend who had styled himself as a book collector. Nathan was a horror writer so he accepted the creepy book. His initial objective was only to look for more ideas and inspiration. Who would have thought the horror writer who never believed in ghost would suddenly start seeing creepy ghos

“It's time to wake up, sweetie...” The sun was beginning to rise, but the light didn't bring comfort. It only clarified the nightmare. I looked at the eye again. The pupil didn't dilate or contract. It remained a fixed, black pinprick in a sea of terrifying blue. As my eyes adjusted, I realized the skin around the eye didn't look like skin at all. It looked like wet parchment stretched too tightly over a frame that didn't quite fit. I remembered the "rules" people joked about in horror movies. Don't go outside. Don't answer the door. But what do you do when the monster is already in the hallway, wearing your father’s throat like a stolen garment?

After two days of high temperatures and intense boredom, he remembered the three books. Sam pulled out the one with the Mummy on the cover, because it looked the most innocuous. It was entitled the Ninth Pan Book of Horror Stories. He wasn’t the least bit prepared for what he found inside. The first three stories involved emasculation, murder and burning at the stake. In his fevered state Sam felt he was not only watching the characters’ suffering, he was experiencing it along with them. He flung the book at the wall and then hid it again, wishing he could burn it like Jinnot, the young girl in the third story who was burned alive.

When the realization of his actions finally hit her, the thought of asking him his reasoning entered her mind, but quickly fled when she felt a piercing pain as he sunk his teeth deep into her inner thigh. She pulled at his hair while frantically struggling to squirm free, but he held her leg with a vice grip while he sucked at the blood that was spurting with enough speed from the piercings in her flesh to make her fear for her life. Did this man rape her only to drain her of her blood? She’d learned of vampires in fairy tales, but never considered them to be real. Her mind pondered the idea that Lord Malcolm Jameson might actually be a real vampire until the world went black.

I stayed with Adley in her small living room, watching horror movies about creatures that didn’t exist in this world, until darkness smothered the outside world, peeking in through the sheer curtains that made their living room feel all too exposed. “Zombies always give me the creeps.” Adley shuddered, “There’s something so scary about coming back from the dead, having your face and limbs rot like that. Bleh, no thank you.” “I can’t be afraid of zombies, not when things like ghouls and Librarian’s exist.” I let out a hearty laugh, trying to imagine a hoard of zombies maneuvering through the forest at night.

Somewhere, he could still hear the waves although he could only see blackness where the sea should be. Looking down, Jon saw that the light from the library was still on. Jon wondered about his client's nocturnal habits and whether he would need to adjust his work hours as well to match his client's. Suddenly, Jon saw something move from the corner of his eye. It seemed to have come from the library window, but he could not be sure. Just as he was convincing himself that he was just too sleepy and conjuring images out of nothing, he saw a black creature move across the wall of the mansion like a giant lizard. The light from the library window barely caught it. Jon barely suppressed a cry whe

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

“Yes, that's exactly it. That was very insightful. What other authors do you like? “Oh, several. She looked at me then. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “I've read all the classic science fiction authors, of course. Asimov, HG Wells, Frank Herbert. I especially love science fiction when it intersects with horror. "So you're a big Lovecraft fan?"

"A writer, how inspiring! What do you write?" "Books." I deadpanned from behind mom, earning an annoyed cluck of her tongue. Blondie smiled awkwardly. "Ah, yes, I see. A- anything you'd recommend?" "Actually, yes. I think my latest work, From Beyond The Grave, would be the perfect read for you. Tons of bloodshed and cannibalism, there's even a chapter where the protagonist has to disembowel her own friend to-" "Uh, could we trouble you for some waters, dear?" Mom cut in, her voice on the edge between friendly and collected and right about to lose her shit.

This should be for one of the young ladies in this apartment who walk out elegantly in the morning looking like people who don't live in this old apartment. I can't dispose of the flower so I open the door and enter with it. I drop it on the table before walking slowly to my cane chair to sit, watching the view out of the window to soothe my frustration before I begin to read the new books I got. I got ten books and for once in my life, I want to give horror a try. I hope I won't end up screaming till my baby pops out of me unexpectedly. I chuckle to myself as I slouch into the chair.