Sorority Nightmares Novels & Stories

“I had a really scary nightmare last night.” Her words piqued Lucien and Lysander’s interest, and everyone was looking at her now. “A scary nightmare?” I repeated, my own chest slamming. If the ever-courageous Scarlett could get really scared by a dream, then it meant that it must be something really serious. “Can you share it with us?” “Of course. The nightmare is not really clear, so we will have to figure out the meaning together. In the nightmare, I saw thousands of people throwing raw eggs at the three of you. They were saying incoherent words.”

My Nightmare Natty's POV It was morning already and last night was a long night. I never knew he was that insatiable.I lot count as to how many times we did it. Thinking about it, I smiled. I looked over to him and smiled more. He was still sleeping like a baby. I tried standing up but I felt pain in my thighs. I tried again but I just groaned. My groaning woke him up,he was baffled and asked. "Baby are you alright..."he asked in a husky voice.

That song, that was on the radio I have heard it somewhere before and I keep trying to wrack my brain to figure out exactly where from. Feeling suddenly like this is all something from a bad movie, I look closer at the date and time on my phone and then I know what has happened. I had forgot that the night before I had a couple friends over and we watched a zombie movie. Clearly, I am in a nightmare, and it is all because of that stinking movie.

Thank you so much for reading "Broken Nightmare"! The second book will be out in about April of 2021 and I can't wait to share it with you. Here is a sneak-peek so you can take a look! Chapter 1 I woke slowly with my head pounding, feeling very disoriented. It was pitch black in my room as I opened my eyes. I reached over to turn my bedroom lamp on, but felt nothing. Where was my lamp? And then it all came back flooding to me. Liam kidnapped. Claire and the pack missing. The imprint.

After that, Marcus stopped trying. Marcus had been convicted of fraud. Nothing violent. He was forty-one, with the tired face of a man who had spent his life avoiding trouble. Prison was supposed to be a brief stop, a lesson. But on his very first night, the nightmares began. From his very first day in prison, Marcus began having nightmares, always the same dream. He dreamed he was walking down a pitch-black alley. The walls were damp, the air thick with the smell of rotting fruit. Far ahead, a single streetlamp flickered, casting a weak yellow circle on the ground. Beneath that light stood a woman in a red dress. Her back was to him. Her hair was long and black, hanging like a curtain. And

The basement of the sorority house had been claimed for the night. Someone had dragged the old couches into a rough circle, strung up a string of cheap fairy lights, and turned the portable speaker high enough that the bass made the laundry machines against the far wall vibrate in sympathy. The air was warm, thick with the smell of spilled cider, perfume, and the sweet chemical edge of body glitter. Clothes had already begun to come off in stages—first the outer layers as a joke, then more as the game of strip poker lost its structure and became an excuse.

“I thought people like you could afford more than that. What—did your father not give you enough allowance, so you had to marry yourself off to a man like Caelen?” “You—” Samantha’s face twisted. “I don’t understand why a cripple like you thinks she can talk to me this way. I could crush you like an ant. Do you know that?” Slowly, deliberately, she tipped her glass. Wine spilled down over my hair, my shoulders—dripping, soaking. “Like this,” Samatha smiled softly. “Bit by bit. Until your life is ruined.” I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my own glass and flung it straight into her face.

This wasn’t anywhere I knew. The room was… breathtaking. Walls of soft, warm grey. Tall windows covered by curtains of rich, dark silk. The bed I was in was huge and impossibly soft, the sheets cool and smooth. Everything spoke of quiet, immense wealth. It was serene. Beautiful. For one dizzy second, I thought, Am I dead? Is this heaven? Then, the memory crashed down on me like a wave of ice. The fall. The blood. The loss. Julian’s cold eyes.

"Tamara, this is going to be our first time sharing a meal together, but you're not even joining us. That's rather unsocial of you." Though I felt rather mystified, I kept a smile up and promised to treat them to a meal next time. However, Natasha refused to let up. Scoffing, she instructed me to ditch lunch with William and join them instead. Connie Orwell and Brenda Sterling, my other two dormmates, awkwardly waved their hands and said that wasn't necessary. Meanwhile, my phone buzzed as well. William was hurrying me. Seeing this, Natasha became even more furious. She shook her head at me and declared, "See? Your boyfriend doesn't care about you making friends at all. And you! You're even

Your sister is next! Your, Nightmare There was a roaring wolf stamp and the end of the letter. I wonder how they know that I'm alive. First of all, I don't even know who 'they' are. After brainstorming I concluded. I think I know who they are. They surely did not name themselves but they did leave a small sign. The roaring wolf confirms it.