Horror Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through. That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister. But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library. They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien. Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve. I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen. This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over. "No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."/0/84426/coverorgin.jpg?v=91bf18a8f3c30cc918e109ecb4cb229a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Price of a Perfect Angel
The cold steel of a knife slid between my ribs, and the last thing I remember was the shock on my best friend Wendy' s face – not that I was dying, but that she needed the perfect angle for her livestream. She narrated my demise, blaming me for trying to sleep with a trucker, her voice sickly excited as notifications pinged with hateful comments like "Serves her right" and "Stupid slut." I died on the dirty floor of a truck cabin, my blood pooling around me, smeared as a whore, utterly betrayed by the person I trusted most. My last breath was a gasp of disbelief, wondering how I could have been so blind to her jealousy and malice. Then, I gasped again, only this time the air was clean, not thick with diesel and blood, and I was back in my law firm's breakroom, staring at a saccharine-smiling Wendy, who was about to propose the very trip that led to my murder./0/85711/coverorgin.jpg?v=ee0beb90fcd21067022677d8497f80d9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Forgot, The Fury She Unleashed
The sterile white ceiling of the hospital room was the first thing I saw when I woke up, a dull ache throbbing at the back of my head. The kind nurse told me I' d fainted at the clinic, and that my son, Leo, was in the pediatric ICU. My son. Leo. The name alone brought back a flood of terrifying memories: his pale, sweaty face, his eyes wide with a terror that seemed to swallow the light. And Jake' s voice, cold and hard: "My son shouldn' t be weak and afraid of the dark! His bad habits need to be cured." I, no, Ava Miller, as I had been for the last five years, had clawed at the locked therapy room door. "Leo is terrified of the dark, and extreme fright can be fatal. If you need to punish someone, punish me…" Jake just laughed, his arm around Chloe Davis, the woman he claimed was the "real" Ava Miller, the one who needed a kidney. A news report on a private island wedding flashed on the hospital TV: "Billionaire heir Jake Hayes is celebrating his wedding to Chloe Davis." Chloe Davis. My name. The name I hadn't heard in five years. Memories crashed down, violent and agonizing: a rainy night, a car accident, my mother' s terrified face, and then Jake, whispering "You' re Ava Miller. You were in an accident. You need a kidney. You feel so guilty, don't you?" He had twisted everything. He wanted my kidney for the real Ava Miller. He stole my identity, my health, my memories. And now, he had stolen my son. Leo. "Mom… if I overcome my fear… will Dad love me?" His voice message, garbled and frantic, echoed in my mind. Rage pulsed through me. I was Chloe Davis. The woman on that island, wearing my name, had my kidney. And they were trying to steal my son. I ripped the IV from my arm. I had to get to Leo. When I found him, his chest wasn't moving. His eyes were wide open, fixed in terror. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, who had once pitied me, was sobbing. "Mom," I said, my voice flat, holding back tears. "I remember everything. I am Chloe Davis. It' s time for me to leave." His eyes finally, slowly, drifted shut as I whispered, "Mommy's here, Leo. Mommy will take you away from here. We'll go somewhere far away, and we'll be together forever." The nurse in the hallway sighed, envying Jake Hayes's "love." If only they knew that his real wife and son, lying dead in a hospital bed, couldn' t earn a fraction of that look. Not even in death. Later, in the house I had shared with Jake, I held Leo's urn tightly. Jake and Ava Miller were on the sofa. "Did you leave Leo with my mom again?" he asked, a condescending edge to his voice. "Bring him back to apologize to his aunt immediately." I turned to him, my eyes direct. I articulated each word with chilling clarity. "Leo is dead."/0/82551/coverorgin.jpg?v=6adb1f68b21bbdfa0d6a049ee474c45f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Family, My Monsters: The Stanford Betrayal
I just won the dream scholarship: a full ride to Stanford. The National Innovators Scholarship. Everything I worked for, finally within reach. But instead of cheers, my family' s faces twisted into pure horror. "You think you' re better than us? Better than Sophie?" my mother hissed. My father's grip was like steel, my grandmother approached with a syringe. They drugged me, beat me, and screamed that the scholarship was for my twin sister, Sophie. I woke up freezing, abandoned in our remote, unheated mountain cabin, left to die. Then, I bolted upright in my bed, back on the very morning the nightmare began. My family, polished and serene, began to gaslight me, spinning tales of an "unwell" Sophie and my own deteriorating mental state. They destroyed my scholarship letter and prepared to send me away, or back to that cabin. Was I going crazy? Did I have a sister I couldn' t remember, one I' d supposedly harmed? The sheer betrayal and their twisted lies made me question my own reality. How could the people who raised me be such monsters? Just as doubt threatened to consume me, a desperate knock at the door broke through the fog. My friend Liam, seeing something was wrong, helped me piece together the truth: I wasn't crazy; I was being systematically poisoned and manipulated. Now, armed with newfound clarity and a burning rage, I' m ready to expose their sinister plan and reclaim my life./0/81084/coverorgin.jpg?v=0473997498fce8958d7ce9af47d9255d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Monster She Chose
I woke up cold, Thanksgiving Eve all over again, the phantom pressure of water in my lungs, a chilling memory of how my wife Ashley had ended my last life. Ashley was already humming, getting ready to leave-not for her aging parents, but for Brandon, her toxic lover, sealing her family' s fate with lies and then locking me in our bedroom to prevent me from interfering. After a desperate escape, I raced to her parents' apartment, only to find the building engulfed in flames, while Ashley, through cunning phone calls, dismissed my desperate pleas to rescuers, painting me as an erratic husband and leading to my arrest as her parents perished inside. My heart shattered by her shocking betrayal and Brandon's calculated cruelty, I was consumed by a cold, burning rage, realizing the terrifying depth of her obsession that led to such an unthinkable tragedy. At the funeral, I publicly exposed Ashley's cold deceptions, and as Brandon shamelessly proposed to her amidst the fresh grief, his true monstrousness was revealed, finally breaking her twisted delusion and setting me free to forge a life unbound by their dark past./0/83976/coverorgin.jpg?v=153275f3cee12f72eb4da1592869a717&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Forensic Bride
Havenwood, Maine, was a town owned by the Thorne family, but their ancient mansion held an even darker grip through a chilling tradition. Each new Thorne bride spent her wedding night alone in the windowless Founder's Study, a tradition that consistently ended in death, just like my sister Sarah's eight years ago. Police ruled Sarah's brutal throat-slitting a "suicide," a convenient lie swiftly followed by seven more inexplicable deaths of Julian Thorne's brides in the very same room. No one believed Sarah could do that, nor could the champion swimmer who supposedly drowned herself in a tiny basin, yet my father succumbed to the narrative, claiming we couldn't fight the powerful Thornes. But I refused to let it go, spending eight years mastering forensic psychology, and now I'm back in Havenwood, declaring to a stunned town and a resigned Julian: "I will be his ninth bride."/0/85883/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b3850557152ae9a08d2c4139fd588ac&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Monster I Once Married And Loved
My life was a fairy tale. At twenty-five, I had it all: a loving husband, Liam, my childhood sweetheart, a beautiful home, massive success, and our two perfect children, Leo and Lily. They were our everything. The night before their third birthday, I tucked them in, their excited giggles filling the room. Just half an hour past bedtime. But when Liam walked in, his face was a mask of cold fury. He dragged Leo and Lily from their beds, out into the raging blizzard, for the sin of staying up late. "They need to be punished," he said, his voice flat, his eyes empty. I screamed, pleaded, grabbed his arm, but he flung me away, locking me in the basement while my babies wailed outside. Darkness enveloped me, and their terrified screams were swallowed by the storm. I pounded on the door, begging, promising anything, until his icy voice pierced the wood: "This isn' t about you, Ava. It' s about your parents." He unleashed a horrifying tale of my family supposedly destroying his, a twisted vendetta culminating in my children' s lives for his father' s death. It was a lie, a monstrous fabrication, but the next morning, as I pushed past his mother and burst outside, the silence was deafening. On the porch, curled together, lay Leo and Lily, pristine and still under a thin dusting of snow, their faces blue, their lips purple, like two broken dolls. They were gone. The world went black./0/21590/coverorgin.jpg?v=7855f5c1e6c6920de9565ca84a1f1584&imageMogr2/format/webp)
ENRAGED SOUL
Laura was a bold, courageous, gorgeous, intelligent young lady who always stood out for herself. She always fought for her right and never allowed anyone to look down on her , her family nor her friends. She was known as the most brilliant and talented student in her class. This irritated some of her mates and led to the plot of her attack to tame her. " Hold her, let's see how her intelligence works this time...", Ben exclaimed, landing a huge slap on her cheek. Patrick and Fred held her tightly, chuckling and teasing. They molested and bullied her until she passed out. " Wait, Ben, I think we killed her....", Fred cried " Shut up, what do you know? She's just doing that to scare us...." " No, Ben...I think he's right...we killed her..." " Oh, my God...what should we do..." Join me on this journey while we find out what they did to her body and the outcome of their action. ENRAGED SOUL;The revenge of a traumatized girl/0/83696/coverorgin.jpg?v=e2b9a999862d8073ff05479400c72800&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy. Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me. My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination." They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why? It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers. Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again. This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family. Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free./0/80416/coverorgin.jpg?v=39ae808b0d7b3df85d0cf06d7ae34df0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Tamed the Monster He Sent
The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me. My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone. Pain, then darkness. Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum. I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John. At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me. “Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome. “Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time. The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her. Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me. He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon. Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity. But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop. No. Not again. This time, things would be different./0/80729/coverorgin.jpg?v=fbc3156bd53fe7fa82c09b7c522eafce&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn to Reign: A Mother's Fury
My name is Sarah, and I remember the cold. Not the chill of winter, but the stainless-steel table against my back. My sons, Michael and Gabriel, were gone, their screams replaced by silence. My husband David, blinded by ambition, led us to that abandoned clinic. His sister, Veronica, craved an heir for her powerful husband, Senator Harrison. She believed my "Legacy Fertility" and my children's "vital essence" could help her. A quack "expert" performed monstrous acts on my seven-year-old twins. Then it was my turn; they brutally harvested my ovarian tissue. I was left to bleed out on a filthy floor, my insides torn. I died there, a vow of revenge frozen on my lips. Later, I saw Veronica on the news, pregnant and glowing with what she stole. But then, warmth. Sunlight. My eyes snapped open to my own familiar bedroom. Michael was on my chest, Gabriel curled beside me, both alive, young, and whole. The calendar read October 14th—the very day it all began. The memory slammed into me: David's averted eyes, the isolated building, Veronica's cold voice, Michael's terror, Gabriel's whimper. This wasn't a dream; this was a second chance. Veronica, triumphant in my first life, had risen on my family's ashes, her belly swelling with a lie while mine was emptied by her greed. No. Not again. This time, I wouldn't just survive. I would take everything she had, everything she wanted. Her husband. Her position. Her future. My revenge would be absolute, and my children would live. The game had begun./0/19250/coverorgin.jpg?v=479c1b077fa60a44da759c90770fa6c9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The devil behind the mask
Veronika McAllister have lived a sad life and a life full of secrets. After the death of her mother during a robbery gone bad, her father blames her for her mother death and her family hates her for reasons she doesn't know. When accepted into Caston college also known as bloodyville because of the series of murders committed by the red ghoul which was later killed in 1990. Now a series of murders is done in the exact manner as the red ghoul the day Veronika stepped into Caston. Are this murders connected to Veronika or has the red ghoul awaken to finish where it left off./0/84329/coverorgin.jpg?v=dd3476c38322035be31584019e57e570&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Father's Vengeance
The smoke burned my eyes, thick and acrid, as my three-year-old son, Caleb, coughed weakly beside me. My wife, Jennifer, stood at the wine cellar door, her gaze fixed on her brother-in-law, Ryan. "It's for Molly's sake," she said, her voice chillingly devoid of warmth. "The guru said Caleb's energy caused her asthma attack. We have to cleanse it." She slammed the heavy oak door shut, the bolt thudding into place, trapping us. My son, who had a severe peanut allergy and sensitive lungs, was left to suffocate in the toxic smoke. Days bled into a hazy nightmare until Jennifer' s brother, Wesley, appeared, revealing Jennifer never loved me; I was just a rebound. He then callously threw more sage onto the embers, sealing our tomb deeper. I clawed our way out, just barely, carrying Caleb' s limp, blue body to a hospital, clinging to a desperate thread of hope. But Jennifer arrived, not for us, but demanding Caleb's O-negative blood for Molly' s minor fender bender injury, ignoring doctors' pleas. "He's my son. Do it," she commanded, her eyes cold. Then, with a casual glance at Caleb, a nurse, obviously bribed, fed him a peanut granola bar. The flatline screamed, and Caleb arched, his tiny chest still. Jennifer, with Ryan' s arm around her, turned her back on our dying son to comfort Molly' s fake tears. My world shattered. Ryan' s venomous whisper echoed: "You and your son, you were always in the way." How could a mother abandon her child to such a horrifying death? How could she choose a niece over her own son, then murder him without a second thought? Something inside me didn't just break; it turned to dust, then reformed into steel. Andrew Wright had to die, so the man who would take everything from them could be born./0/83391/coverorgin.jpg?v=20a1150f8cabd4ddf52468722151f5f5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Heart, My Vengeance
I spent three years locked away by my husband, Ethan, in a soundproof panic room. My legs, shattered in the "accident" he orchestrated, were useless. He stole my songs, my career, my life, and gave them to Chloe, a talentless fraud he built into a star. Then, they wheeled me out-a prisoner displayed for the "happy family": Ethan, Chloe, and my son, Leo. Leo, who looked at me like a monster, holding Chloe's hand and calling her "mom." Ethan ordered me to confess to plagiarism, to blame my own "jealousy" for his intricate web of lies that destroyed me. But the ultimate cruelty came later. Chloe, supposedly dying from a heart condition, needed a transplant. "You're a match," Ethan stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "You will donate your heart to Chloe." It wasn't a request; it was my execution. My heart for hers, the last piece of me carved out and given to the woman who stole my life. As the scalpel touched my skin, Chloe whispered, "This is for stealing my life, you bitch." I closed my eyes, uttering one word to the mysterious "Pact" I made years ago. Then, I left my body to die. Yet, I woke up. Not gone, but back. And the Pact whispered a new bargain: return to stop Ethan, who, shattered by my death, was becoming a true monster. The deal was clear: save him and save my sister. I stepped back into hell, but this time, the chains were broken, and I was ready to fight./0/21442/coverorgin.jpg?v=a1fd0ef438989e3a49e6011b80b67de4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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The Twin Who Stole Tomorrow
I woke up to the hum of the office lights, keyboards clattering. This was my desk at Visionary Films. I was alive, and it was October 14th – the day before everything went to hell. Last time, my identical twin sister Jessica stole my script, getting me accused of plagiarism, leading to my parents disowning me and my career's ruin. It ended with my death at the hands of a crazed fan. Now, I was inexplicably back, but the horror was far from over. I soon realized Jessica didn't just steal finished work; she could pluck ideas straight from my mind, instantly. Even a simple drawing, conceived moments before, would appear on her social media, claimed as her own. My entire creative future was being systematically looted by this parasitic twin. How could she reach into my thoughts, my unformed dreams, and claim them? The injustice burned, the confusion maddened me. This wasn't just sibling rivalry; it was a soul-sucking tether. Desperate, I fled LA, burning every piece of my work. But a frantic phone call from Jessica revealed her creative well had run dry without me. This led me to Mama Martha, who confirmed a dark Hoodoo binding: a cursed doll, made with my essence, stealing my life force. Now, armed with a powerful gris-gris bag, I'm back. I'm ready to expose her and shatter the source of her stolen talent on the biggest stage imaginable./0/84330/coverorgin.jpg?v=5caf64b2f70b0d574bca2135791582ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Debt of Deception
My bank account was a graveyard of numbers, each one a testament to my crushing debt. One hundred and fifty-two thousand, four hundred and eighty-one dollars and sixty-two cents, to be exact. It all started when Jennifer Chavez, my ex-colleague, whispered about an impending grid collapse. I believed her. I drained credit cards, took out high-interest loans, and filled my Portland apartment with freeze-dried food and solar generators. Then Jennifer posted from Bali, "#blessed." The grid never went down. My life, however, did. Eviction notices piled up, and my phone wouldn't stop buzzing with collection calls. I hated Jennifer. I hated her effortless success while I stared at a mountain of useless survival gear, suffocating under my own stupidity. Just when I considered oblivion, my obnoxious upstairs neighbor, Sweet_Caroline, shrieked, "I make more money in one of these livestreams than you probably make in a month." Something snapped. What if I gave them an apocalypse?/0/25667/coverorgin.jpg?v=46f92a5ae6859cc5742de4a25b2b0e34&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Black Bender
A myth.... A mystery..... Who is he? He is Black Bender... A blood sucker.... This wasn't Jeremy's expectation when he was told about their sudden vacation... But their meant to be interesting vacation became a feast of blood, when they received the unexpected visitor . . The Black Bender...... . . . Find out more about the mysteries of this inhumane being... Grab your popcorn..as we go on this journey/0/87462/coverorgin.jpg?v=7bf58ac5d3f0e301aaf0092911ce98a5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Death of a Love, Birth of a Ghost
My sister Ivanna's son was dying. His leukemia had returned, and he needed a bone marrow transplant immediately. My husband, Jaimen, didn't hesitate. His cold eyes landed on our five-year-old daughter, Lily, playing in the corner. "Use Lily's," he said. "Her marrow is a perfect match." When I refused, he and my own sister pinned me to the floor. They ignored my screams as doctors held down my terrified daughter and performed the extraction. They took too much. Lily died the next day of cardiac arrest. Then, they had me beaten and dumped my body in a dark alley, leaving me to die alone. For three years, Jaimen believed I had run away out of spite. He cursed my name, telling everyone I was a venomous woman who had murdered our daughter to get back at him. Now, Timothy's leukemia is back, and Jaimen has launched a massive, city-wide manhunt. He is threatening to torture my mother to force me out of hiding, vowing to break my legs and make me kneel. He has no idea his search will lead him to two graves. And that my ghost is watching his every move, waiting for the moment he finally learns the truth./0/86525/coverorgin.jpg?v=1923ac4a1488ae04cdd6f8872c26bc2f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
