Literature Horror Novels & Stories

A new edition will be launched every few months, featuring four or five essays per edition, so be sure to check out the webpage regularly for updates. Horror 101: The Way Forward—a comprehensive overview of the Horror fiction genre and career opportunities available to established and aspiring authors, including Jack Ketchum, Graham Masterton, Edward Lee, Lisa Morton, Ellen Datlow, Ramsey Campbell, and many more. Horror 201: The Silver Scream Vol.1 and Vol.2—A must read for anyone interested in the horror film industry. Includes interviews and essays by Wes Craven, John Carpenter, George A. Romero, Mick Garris, and dozens more. Now available in paperback, as well.

If your body doesn't lay in a Cemetery, it means you succumbed in a very tragic way, and your body couldn't be found. No one expected it, no one wanted it, but that night, the same night that Jonah was buried, a bell rang. Once, twice, three times, until the ringing seemed not to stop, and it was impossible to know when a ringing began or ended. It was barely eight o'clock at night when the bell started ringing. Everyone in the village was terrified by that incessant sound because they knew where it came from, and they also knew what they had done. They were afraid that this monster was alive and wanted revenge.

Those books were older than any of the others in his office. The bottom shelf (the one he’d been searching when he’d first heard the cats playing in the hall) held his collection of horror anthologies. The famed Whispers series, edited by Stuart David Schiff, featuring the varied works of Ramsey Campbell, Stephen King, Charles Grant and so many others. The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror from England. The Shivers series, published by Cemetery Dance. Masques, Borderlands, Shadows, Stalkers, Dark Forces, October Dreams I & II, Corpse Blossoms, Horror Library Volumes 1-5, and Prime Evil. Classic horror anthologies jammed next to paperback collections of slightly lesser repute with titles to mat

The moment the shattered library door swung shut behind us, the world fractured into two distinct, terrifying realities. Outside, the moaning chorus of the drawn horde swelled, a dissonant symphony of hunger echoing off the brick and concrete of the campus. Inside, it was a tomb. The air was cold, stale, and heavy with the scent of decaying paper, old leather, and the pervasive, sweet-rotten undertone that signaled death. Dust motes, disturbed by our violent entry, danced in the few slivers of gray light that cut through the grimy, high-set windows, illuminating a vast, shadowy expanse of towering bookshelves that receded into an abyssal darkness.

She was given instructions by one of the librarians how to find the reference books she was looking for. And she was looking for books that related to ghost or paranomal things. She picked up several books, articles, and also novels. She didn't know if it would help but it seemed like those horror novels she could read in her spare time. Ria will indeed borrow some books and will read some of them here. She chose a seat near the window and started reading there. ** "What are you reading?" The sound of someone whispering just above her head made her almost jump. “Loren!” Ria whispered yelled at her while holding her chest in shock.

As he made his way across the room, he glanced at the bookshelves he passed but saw no books here that were turned upside down. Upstairs, he placed the book on an entry table in the hallway then paused, ears alert for any sounds like he’d heard this morning. Despite his love of horror, or perhaps because of it, Brad had never been easily unnerved. Scary movies, haunted trails and spook houses, most had little effect on him, and as for real life, he reserved his fear for things like disease, natural disasters, catastrophic accidents. It took more than an empty house to give him the creeps. Usually.

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

“Back before you were a world-famous author, huh?” Brad laughed. “Yeah, back then I was working for my hometown paper writing obituaries.” “So your work hasn’t changed too much; you’re still writing about death.” “I suppose you could look at it that way.” “I’ll confess I haven’t actually read any of your books. I know of you by reputation, but I’m a bit too squeamish for horror. A mystery, on the other hand, suits me just fine.” “Hey, to each his own. Or her own. I like mysteries, too; in some ways they share similar elements with horror.”

Her pulse thunders in her ears, and it takes precious moments for the residual terror to subside in the tiniest sense of it. In the eerie stillness of the night, Marisol clutched at the sheets, her heart racing wildly owing to the scare of the nightmare that had taken a few nights off, only to return stronger than it would seem. The vivid imagery of the beast persists even behind her closed lids, haunting her waking moments as she grapples with the remnants of the surreal horror that had unfolded in her dreams.

Occasionally cursed in his heart for fear of hearing the sound of tables and chairs shifting because they hit him. He walked to the left and the book aisle until his hand touched the end of the hall. He went back through each book quickly. Find out here where it is. Several books hit and fell, causing him to curse again. There was the sound of the library door opening and approaching footsteps. It sounded calm but it made the boy's heart flutter, as if today was the last day for him to breathe.