Really Good Horror Books

Valentine Joey Harris Your typical bad boy and popular boy in school. He has the face, the body and not to mention that he's athletic. He may not be smart in his studies but he's so talented in sports. He might be a bad boy but he has his eyes on one girl who happens to be his enemy Valentine Regens She's an ordinary girl who loves reading books when she got a spare time. She's really lovely that's why boys always falls over heels on her but she only has a crush on Raymond Sterling the captain of soccer for almost a year but then someone decided to make her heart flip

After a car crash, I wake up without a scratch, but my girlfriend, Elena Reed, has amnesia. What shocks me the most is that I can hear my late grandma's voice in my head. "That shameless woman is feigning amnesia to trick Rowan! If I were still alive, I'd break her legs myself!" My eyes fly wide in disbelief. Grandma's voice keeps raging in my head. "Rowan, in your past life, Elena ruined you. You had miserable years with her and nearly died of a heart attack while she was out celebrating Miles' birthday! "Your grandpa is about to have you choose a bride. Don't pick Elena. Pick Piper. She's a good woman!" A second later, Grandpa and the elders walk into the hospital room and spread out photos of heiresses from the four great families, asking me to choose a bride. I don't even hesitate. I choose Piper Alden, the one I've been butting heads with for as long as I can remember. I've always listened to Grandma. If she says that Elena doesn't love me, then I don't want her anymore.

What a small world. As Elaine Johnson was checking in at the hotel front desk, she happened to bump into Jasper Carter's young mistress —a girl who looked like an innocent college student. She was dressed in a simple white cotton dress, pure and demure, with a shy, sweet smile. "Hello, here's your room key. You'll be staying in the executive suite on the top floor," the receptionist said. "Thank you, miss," the girl replied softly, taking the key. Just then, her phone rang. Elaine overheard her speaking bashfully to the person on the other end: "Mr. Carter, I... I'm already here. When will you be coming?" Her tone was soft, a little nervous, filled with affectionate anticipation. A moment later, Elaine heard her add, "Mhm, I'll wait for you. No rush. Please drive carefully, Mr. Carter." The girl's voice was so sweet and tender, it could have melted anyone's heart. Elaine could not help thinking that her husband had good taste — the girl was young and beautiful, gentle and thoughtful, the kind of woman any man would find hard to resist.

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

It's my seventh anniversary with Chase McGregor. I hide in his car's trunk while holding a pregnancy report. In my other hand, I hold a limited-edition watch that I've prepared for him. I want to surprise him and tell him we're about to have a child. To my surprise, I hear something that devastates me. "Chase, you're not really going to marry Daphne, are you? Lucille Gervais wants to marry you. As long as you do that, the North Sea's shipping routes, cargo operations, and drug trade will come under your control." "Help me set up a date with her. I'll break up with Daphne." My breathing hitches. I want to hear Chase object to this or show even the slightest bit of hesitation, but none of it comes. The pregnancy report slips from my fingers. I once thought he would be the father of my children; I thought we would have a happy family together. Now, my dream has been shattered.

On the fifth year of their marriage, finding the vitamin C her husband bought tasted too bitter, Jeanne Dotson went to the hospital with the bottle. The doctor took one look and frowned. "This isn't vitamin C." "I-I'm sorry, Doctor?" "I could say it a dozen times and it'd still be the same," the doctor replied, pointing at the bottle. "This is Mifepristone. Taking too much of it doesn't just cause infertility—it can do serious harm to your body." Jeanne felt a lump stuck in her throat, and her fingers turned pale from clenching the bottle. "That's impossible. My husband got this for me. His name is Darren Walsh—he's a doctor here too." The doctor looked up at her, his expression turning strange, tinged with something she couldn't quite read. After a pause, he gave a small smile. "Miss, you might want to visit the psych ward instead. We all know Dr. Walsh's wife—she gave birth just two months ago. Don't let your imagination run wild, all right? There's no point."

My three-year-old daughter was playing in the room, and she suddenly fell from the window of the room and died. In my past life, I held her lifeless body after learning the news, crying so hard I thought I would never stop. But when my husband rushed back, he slapped me across the face without a second thought. "How could you be so cruel? You actually threw her out of the window—she was only three!" I was too stunned to react. Later, my husband and my best friend teamed up and testified that I had thrown my daughter from the window because I had an argument with my husband. I was cyberbullied and labeled the "evil mom". Amid the public hatred and the pain of losing my daughter, I jumped to prove my innocence. Even in death, I still didn't understand. My daughter had been fine playing in the room—how did she fall out of the window? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she fell.

My daughter gets into an accident and needs to leave town for an operation. My husband is the pilot of the flight that takes her there. However, instead of calling him, I head straight to the airport and ask the ground staff for help. In my past life, I begged and pleaded with my husband for help. He arranged a seat for our daughter and flew the plane there. Because of that, he missed the chance to send his childhood sweetheart to the hospital, and she died in labor. My husband disappeared for two months after that. He later returned, acting like nothing had happened. However, one day, he poisoned the whole family. "If not for you forcing me to get on that flight, I could've taken her to the hospital. She would've given birth, and she wouldn't have died. You guys are the ones who deserve to die!" He pushed me off the 20th floor. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my daughter gets into an accident. This time, my husband successfully takes his childhood sweetheart to the hospital. But why does he later regret it?

A young lady named Gwyneth Hope Gabriel have no wings to fly. But, is it really necessary to have wings in lrder to fly?Then, she met someone who changed her life-full-of-drama. A man who desires to become a lawyer because of his mother. Gwy said that the true artist is in the heart of a good lawyer. But, what if everything turns upside down? What if the man who promised her the world became someone she'll despise forever? But, what if he needed to be bad to fight for something good?