The Graveyard Book Reviews Novels & Stories

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,

- I added after a moment. - Christina, how can you compare this freak of nature to human beings?- my mother yelled at me, getting up from her chair and letting both hands crash onto the table top with a bang, making me shiver slightly.- Humans are the natural inhabitants of the Earth, they took possession of it, they were made rulers of this place, with everything that lives on it. Vampires, on the other hand, are Satan's minions, same as demons, so just like them, they should burn in the depths of Hell.- she preached to me, then took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment.- I know that you are still young and naive, but you cannot approach everyone with such confidence. There are bein

Still nothing. Every book I devoured in the last forty-eight hours had either skimmed over the ancient bloodlines or talked in circles around myths and legends that couldn’t possibly explain what I’d done at the graveyard. Not one mention of wolves with glowing eyes or energy bursts that could level a battlefield. And definitely no information about my parents’ deaths. Just more dead ends. I stood, stretching until my joints popped, and rubbed my temples. Maybe the answers weren’t in books. Maybe they were buried with them, just like the truth.

My foot catches on something—something soft, something decaying. The corpse beneath me shrivels, withering like dried-out leather, its skin peeling away as if reality itself is rejecting its existence. I am ushered out of the closet, stepping over rotting bodies, and into what was once my safe place—my bedroom. Or rather, the graveyard it has become.

I reached for the bouquet wrapped in soft brown paper—white lilies and blue forget-me-nots, flowers I’d never given him in life. “Wait here,” I murmured, already stepping out. Thaddeus gave a respectful nod and stayed by the car. The path was uneven, the weeds tall and unbothered. This wasn’t one of those polished, garden-like cemeteries with polished marble and trimmed lawns. This was… neglected. Old. A graveyard where even the dead were forgotten. It made me mad because Flynn deserved way better. He was wealthy, hard working, and reputable, only for Lyra to reduce him to nothing even in death.

She clung to my pillow all day—sometimes she would laugh, and sometimes she would cry. Father's hair turned gray overnight. He drank heavily every day and became an utterly useless person. Clyde had also lost his mind. He often ran alone to my grave and kneeled there for an entire day. Yves was stripped of his position as the gang's consigliere. Every day, he stood before my tombstone, caressing the face in the photo over and over again. Endless remorse would accompany him for the rest of his life. … Many years later, the once-prestigious Shaw family had long been forgotten by others.

It showed the newest handbag of the season. After I sent the recycler out, I asked Susan Yegler, my best friend, to check out a place. I brought her to the suburbs and parked the car in front of a graveyard. Susan stared at me in surprise. I did not explain and just dragged her in. The graveyard was on a mountain, and it even had a river. It was the first pick for many rich families as their final resting place. The staff gave us an enthusiastic introduction to the place. After looking around, I picked a spot I liked and paid the deposit.

Aurora walked closer “What is that? John flipped it over. Two words were boldly engraved on the cover. Damon Blackborne My stomach twisted. Mr. Grim Reaper’s real name. Aurora’s eyes widened. “Should we even be reading this?” “I have a feeling this is wrong,” John whispered. “Very wrong.” They were right. This was Mr. Grim Reaper possession. He could hang out head because of this. My hands hovered over the book, hesistating. An image of Phoebe flashed in my mind. The way she looked at me with pains in her eyes. “We have to find out,” I muttered. With shaky hands, I flipped the journal. His handwriting came before our sight. Neat. Elegant.

Anthony seemed drunk. The minute he walked through the door, the strong stench of alcohol hit me. Before my ghost friends and I could even guess what had happened, Anthony staggered straight into the bedroom, looking like his soul had been sucked out again. He threw his arms around my urn and suddenly started to sob. My friends were dumbfounded; the cards slipped from my hands and scattered all over the floor.

Laya got discharged after -------- Author's Notes: Read my new book "Werewolf seeking the Sun". It is under the contest Werewolf and I under the theme WerewolfXVampire. Drop reviews and add books into the library. Best reviews get 100 coins as a gift. thankyou guys.