Thriller Horror Books Novels & Stories

The smoke disappeared into the air. The candles and incenses were lit on the table to create a flicker in the breeze blowing through the kitchen. She placed the crystals in the oven. Red for blood, fire, violence, health and danger. Orange for change and yellow for mourning. Black for evil and dark. She began stirring the crystals in the oven with a wooden spoon as she chanted a spell. The oven became so hot the spoon began to catch fire. She reached over to the sink and filled a glass with water. She propelled the glass of water onto the fire. The steam spelled out Slaughter Hill. The spell was completed.

I can play you songs and read you audiobooks…’ ‘Okay. Okay, Alexa. If you can’t get me to work or get me food, you’re pretty much useless.’ She jabbed. ‘Technically, I can order an uber and pizza. McDonald’s and Starbucks too.’ ‘This is so cool. Maybe, you could read me an audiobook just before I fall asleep tonight.’ ‘What kind of books do you like?’ the VA asked. ‘Young Adult, romance, horror, mystery, crime…’ ‘According to a recent survey, people who read lots of horror tend to act out what they read. Often times, they try to imitate the villain in the book and…’

There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor, but Lissa quickly picked those up and placed them in the hamper on the inside of Rose's closet. There were a few non-textbook books sitting on her desk, the subjects ranged from mythical dragons and spy academies, to the psychology of serial killers and a few classics. I'm not sure what surprised me more, the fact that Rose had read The Picture of Dorian Gray or that she seemed to have a fascination with serial killers. Knowing Rose's intelligence level, I decided it was the serial killers. I picked up one of the books on the most macabre killers to exist, trying to ignore Lissa digging in Rose's underwear drawer as she pulled out br

After the boys had left my room, I went through my bag and pulled out my favorite book, Night Flame, by Catherine Hart. I sat back in my chair by the window, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading when a shiver ran down my spine. I jumped out of my seat and spun around to see a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the corner of the room. As those eyes drew closer to me, I realized that it was Simon, the fae that came to warn me the other day.

These actions cannot be explained, Navpreet,’ said the inspector gloomily, casting an eye on the mountains. The sub-inspector gave a stiff nod and carefully studied the inspector who seemed to be lost in contemplation. ‘From what I have seen, murders are of two types,’ said the inspector, the tips of his fingers coming together. ‘First are the unplanned ones, committed by people who were suffocated in some way by the acts of the would-be victims. When they see an opportunity, their fear is eclipsed by the pain they have suffered and they strike.’

She doubted a zombie would be able to locate her there, even an advanced zombie. One of the things about zombies that stayed with them, no matter how much of their thinking and motor skills returned was the fact that they had poor night vision, depth perception, and were color blind. Those factors went in her favor since the opening to the root cellar was beneath a very realistic looking shrub that was attached to the trap door. Its coloring varied from those it was amongst only by the slightest degree and, unless you ran your hand over it, you’d never guess it wasn’t real. Combine that to the fact that it was nighttime, and she felt safe in her selection of hiding places.

Toby asked with an etched eyebrow, watching Yara pull out a big sized novel from the shelf and Barnes smile proudly. "Thatweird_author." she replied, holding the novel up to his eye level. A bestseller mystery- thriller, crime fiction novel with the name written boldly on it 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 -𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍. "Barnes books?" Toby asked, a smile rested on his face as Yara looked at him in perplexity.

Occasionally cursed in his heart for fear of hearing the sound of tables and chairs shifting because they hit him. He walked to the left and the book aisle until his hand touched the end of the hall. He went back through each book quickly. Find out here where it is. Several books hit and fell, causing him to curse again. There was the sound of the library door opening and approaching footsteps. It sounded calm but it made the boy's heart flutter, as if today was the last day for him to breathe.

The next day was better than I wanted it to be. Moira made me tea strong enough to wake the dead. Finn spent an hour convincing a grad student that her dissertation would be stronger if she stopped citing men who hated women. I shelved, dusted, learned where the cat preferred to nap (on top of Greek tragedies, appropriately). I found three books tucked in the back: a horror novel with a cover torn clean off, a psychology text full of annotations that read like confessions, and a slim volume of ghost stories. I brought them home with the excuse of “inventory check,” but really, I just wanted them near me. “You’re nesting,” Travis teased as I stacked them on the table. “Careful, Princess, you’

The logical part of my brain, the part that liked neatly restored paintings and clean brushes and answers, was having a very bad month. The occult section was tucked in the farthest corner, behind a dusty pillar and next to a broken radiator that hissed like a snake. The books looked untouched, mostly oversized hardcovers with cracked spines and spooky fonts. I traced my fingers over them, unsure what I was looking for until something sharp pricked my index finger. I jerked back, hissing. One of the books had a tiny iron spike sticking from its spine, like it didn’t want to be opened. I stared at the title.