Scary Story Authors Novels & Stories

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

Or did she? "I always thought," she said, "that if I were to write a horror story, I'd write about the hybrid child, perhaps the offspring of a vampire and a human." "They can have kids?" asked someone on the front row. Mrs. Jackson shrugged and winked in my direction. "Who knows? It's my story and anything can happen. That's the thrill of being an author."

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.

But still, my eyelids are absolutely reluctant to close. As I lay there staring blankly at the ceiling, I suddenly remembered Javier’s collection of horror books. That’s right. A while back, I’d idly picked up one of his scary stories. Since I’m actually a scaredy-cat, every time I read one of those horror stories, I’d immediately be scared out of my wits and end up falling asleep from emotional exhaustion.

His voice hinted naughtiness and immediately a loud growl was heard on the other side. "Who is it?" Alexander's voice was mixed with feelings of both anger and protectiveness. Amara instantly looked around and there was nobody. She immediately knew whose voice it belonged. With each passing day and every second her anxiety increased. She was so emotionally dependent upon Alexander. "I'm into a lot of problem here Alex. I need your help." Amara's tone sounded much anguished and distressed. She told Alexander about everything starting from her uncle's miserable mental health, the missing of Aunt Stella, the phone call she got with his number, her visit to the haunted house, the fakir's rescue,

PATHETIC DRAMATIC melted and re‑formed. SCARED CREATIVE “I made horror because I was scared,” I said. “Not because I was weak. I wrote bad things happening because bad things *were* happening, and it was the only way I could stand to look at them without going numb.” Memory flickered behind my eyes unbidden: me at thirteen, hunched over a spiral notebook while my parents argued in the next room. Me at sixteen, typing frantically after my sister had rolled her eyes at something that had gutted me. I'm hiding in horror books because at least *there is fear that had shape and rules and endings.

Nora concluded in a silk undertone. Impressed by her good storytelling skills, the kids applauded her as they glued their vote stickers on the voting pad. However, amongst the other kids, some people weren't impressed—Gina Adams and minions. "Oh, PUURLEES. . . This is the lamest scary story in the history of lame scary stories," Gina jeered loudly, her tone wielding the usual amount of obnoxity.

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

All around them, boys and girls, dressed as monsters and super-heroes, began to titter and giggle, the tension from the story leaving their little bodies. Chloe wasn't afraid of the story; in fact, she had read it before, as well as many others. She didn't have many books at home, but one that she did have was a cheap paperback collection of scary stories that she read over and over again, becoming immune to their quaint shocks. “Alright, kids. I hope that wasn't too scary for you,” the teacher said. The class, as a single unit, assured her that it was not, in fact, too scary. However, several of the children's faces said otherwise.

The little girl watched as Dask'iya burned quickly because there was nothing but gum in the fire, and listened to the agonizing screams of the woman After Dask'iya burned completely, the girl warmed her shaking hands once more and melted the gum off of all of the other children's eyes. All of the boys and girls opened their eyes again and ran back home to tell the story of the little girl's triumph in killing the Child Eater. " What are these strange stories, No wonder people Don't touch these books " I slam the book shut when I hear footsteps coming closer to me. Suddenly I feel a strong hand on my arm, yanking me upwards. "What do you think you're doing?" I don't recognize his voice as Ces