Lovecraftian Horror Books 소설 & 이야기

Stefan’s eyes are unfocused and he nods. “Understood,” he says in a robotic tone. The creature is tempted to tear off Stefan’s throat. Its desire for vengeance coupled with its need to drink blood is starting to overwhelm its senses. It wants to make the scumbag bleed and drink all his blood but it cannot let Stefan Vronsky’s disgusting blood touch its body. “Ugh!” The creature cries. The magic holding its senses will not last long and it will turn into a mindless monster any moment. “You, come here!” The creature growls at Lucianna who is only a few metres away. Lucianna comes out of hiding and bows in front of the creature. She is also in a hypnotic trance, obeying every word of the creatu

And find out if there was any way to fix it. As she drove, Caitlin thought again of the rare books she had found in her library. Most of all, she that of that one rare volume, and its torn page. She thought of its ancient ceremony, the one in Latin, with its cure for vampirism. She wondered again if it was real. Was that just passed down from folklore? An old wives’ tale?

She would see the Lycan again. Her head was in a state of euphoria as she lay in bed, imagining herself unravelling the mystery of her saving stranger. The smiles, and her much sought opportunity to say thank you to him. Until she asked herself the damning question. Then what? She was fresh from a heartbreak, and the pain of being left alone on her wedding day. What would happen if she and the Lycan fell in love? Would she not be exposing herself to the pain twice? Why did she even want to see him?

So you're a big Lovecraft fan? - Definitely. A thousand times more Cthulhu than any shining vampire. - She smiled. — I like some fantasy books. Writers like Laurell K. Hamilton and Patricia Briggs, who take ancient legends like vampires and werewolves and bring them to the contemporary world. There's this amazing author called SC Green who wrote these dark steampunk books set in dinosaur-infested Georgian London. My friend Derek referred me. He is always giving me new books to read. He's studying mythology, so he likes that sort of thing. — What is your favorite creature?

Histories, myths, philosophies—every book was a whisper of the past. Ashara’s gaze stopped on a particular section on the far wall, its books older, darker in design, and faintly ominous. Something about the curling silver script caught her attention. One of the titles read: Nocturnae Vitae: The Legacy of the Blood Born. Her breath hitched. “Vampires?” she murmured, tilting her head.

Bibliography Spark Series: When Sparks Fly Amazon books No Words Alone Amazon books Solar Flare Anthology for the Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance: Iron & Hemlock Iron & Hemlock Series: Iron & Hemlock Gargoyle Girl Gargoyles in the Attic Dark Lands Series: The Charmer Dark Lands: Homecoming Scent of Danger The Golden Bell Ghost in Her Heart Beast Wars Dark Lovers Anthology (includes The Golden Bell & Homecoming) Dark Warriors Anthology (includes Ghost in Her Heart & Beast Wars) Ladies in Waiting: The Woman Inside The Other Woman Through the Looking Glass Draconian Series: Ride the Stars Careful, He Bites Aliens Do it Better: Anthology featuring Careful, He Bites and Interstellar Lover Int

“Excuse me, sir? Will you be checking any of these books out?” He tilted his head at her in confusion. He had reserved no books. The robrarian expected his question and spoke once more. “Your friend with the tail thought you would need these.” She showed him the different titles. The Lust Chronicles, I Am What I Am Accept It, My Lycanthrope Lover, How Not To Be An Asshole, and more. He nodded his head in understanding. She was a cheeky person when she wanted to be. He liked that.

He might kick me out and I would just die. “This is amazing,” I managed to whisper, still breathless at the sight. “You like it?” “Like it?” My amazement hung in my voice, and I spun on my heels to face Dante, who was leaning at the door. “Are you kidding me? I am in love with it. It’s like heaven on earth.” The corner of Dante’s lips twitched. “The best part is that more than half of the books are horror, thriller and paranormal.” “No fricken way!” My jaw dropped, and I held back the girlie squeal that hung in my throat. And I thought this place couldn’t get any better.

With some effort, I managed to push it open, revealing an enormous underground chamber. My breath caught in my throat. The chamber was filled with rows upon rows of old books and scrolls—an ancient library dedicated to werewolf lore and magic. The walls were lined with shelves crammed with forgotten knowledge, and in the center of the room stood a large, intricately carved table covered in tomes and manuscripts. I approached the table, my eyes scanning the titles. Many of the books were written in old, nearly forgotten languages, but one tome caught my attention. It was bound in dark leather, the title barely legible: "The Lament of the Moon."

I had to keep studying—this was the only way I could avoid his gaze and his presence. After a few more pages, my eyes drifted to the large bookshelf along the living room wall. It was filled with thick volumes, most in Latin or old English. Slowly, I stood and approached it. My fingers brushed over a spine, trying to read the titles. Anatomi Licanthropica, Genealogy of Packs, Mutatio Lupus. I pulled one out, nearly choking when I saw its contents—pages full of strange illustrations: skeletal figures half-transformed into wolves, notes on dual circulatory systems, and countless terms unfamiliar to me.