Horror Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Poisoned Cupcakes, Poisoned Heart
My life as a librarian in a small Southern town was perfect, a sun-drenched dream. My new husband, Mark, was solid and dependable. And then, two pink lines: triplets. My heart swelled, a joy so big it almost hurt. But the whisper started, directly in my mind. "I hope Mommy Sarah likes the special cupcakes I made just for her." It was Chloe, Mark' s sweet-faced ten-year-old daughter. A cold dread, sharp and familiar, sliced through me. It wasn' t just a dream, it was a terrifying memory of a life I' d lived before, a future so certain it felt like the past. Chloe, innocent smile, offering poisoned cupcakes. Me, trusting, then fire, loss, and darkness. My unborn babies and I, gone. "Sarah, honey, look what Chloe made for you!" Mark boomed, holding a plate of bright cupcakes. I gasped, faking sudden morning sickness. Panicked, I offered them to Mark. Chloe' s innocent mask flickered; panic flashed in her eyes when I suggested Mark try one. She snatched the plate, claiming they were only for me. A cupcake fell, and our golden retriever, Buddy, gobbled the frosting. Minutes later, Buddy was violently retching, poisoned. The vet confirmed it: household cleaner. Chloe burst into tears, feigning an accident, but her projected thought was chilling: "Stupid dog. Almost ruined everything." Mark, heartbroken by Buddy' s illness, was blinded by her act. He looked at me, full of concern for Chloe. "It was just a terrible mistake, Sarah. She' s just a child." He didn' t know. He couldn't hear the venom, the calculation, the hidden hatred aimed at me and my unborn children. How could I make him see the truth when the enemy wore a child' s face and spoke only in my mind? A new, icy fear coiled around the warmth of my babies. This was just the beginning./0/50365/coverorgin.jpg?v=422bf29ed8ef3ad8b08e298d5afb4276&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Demon inside
Her POV I looked up at the high gate of the university and quietly read the engraved letters there. 'R University ..' I sighed and smiled before I entered. No human being maybe in their respective rooms. I went to the Dean’s Office to ask where the building of the section I belonged to was. I halted in front of a door painted with a gold color and knocked twice. A woman with a round eyeglass and hair tied in a pony tail welcomed my sight. "Oh ... it's you.Please come in." She uttered I smiled and stepped in. "Dean ... the beautiful lady is here." She informed the Dean who's busy with the papers I scratched my head because of the word 'beautiful'. I still feel lonely when I am praised. Slowly, she held her head up and flashed a big smile. I stared at her for a moment. Even with age, there is still a trace of beauty in it. "Miss Quiza.How may I help you?" She asked while staring at me intently I shyly smiled. "Ahh ... I just wanted to ask where the building of the section I belong to is." She chuckled. "Oh ..." He turned to Miss Jie, his secretary. "Miss Jie, please lead the way to her building." "Yes, Dean." Was its polite reply Dean looked at me. "Miss Jie will bring you there.Sorry for not giving you a tour yesterday." I shook. "Naku po. Ayos lang po yun. I was busy yesterday too and as much as I want to tour myself, I don't have much time." Sinsero kong sabi It smiled. "Then ... enjoy.Enjoy your first day here, Miss Quiza." I bowed and smiled. "Thank you, Dean." Miss Jie guided me out. I just kept quiet as I walked and he in turn explained every place and building we passed. I only answered with a nod and a smile. I was too mesmerized by the pine trees that are perfectly standing at every side of the hallway. Flowers that are properly arranged at the side. I was too drown that I didn't even notice that we're already in front of my room's door. "Oh siya.Dito ka na.Don't worry.They already knew that there's a transferee but didn't know who.I'm sure they'll be stunned on seeing a beauty like you.Enjoy, Miss Quiza.Have a great day. " Before I can respond, she walked away. I sighed before knocking the door twice. "Yes? Who ---" It stopped when it saw me and like everyone else when it saw me it hit it. I smiled at him. It's so shimmering. "P-Please come in." It eased the door open and all my classmates looked and stared at me as I entered. I tried to chase away the consciousness and look at each of them. No words came out of their mouths. They just stared at me with adoration. "Please introduce yourself, Miss." I nodded and smiled at everyone. "Hi.I'm Nhiana Quiza.I'm new here.I hope we'll get along." "Find your seat, Miss Quiza." Smiling I headed to the back. There are two vacant seats and I choose the one which is near at the window. "Professor, what is your name, anyway?" He forgot to tell me. "Ahhh ... sorry.I'm Gus Salazar.Your Biology Teacher.Call me Sir not Professor.Yan kasi ang nakasanayan dito.Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself as well." Parang nahihiyang sabi pa nito "You Sir ha. Just saw the beautiful forgot to introduce yourself." Hirit one of my classmates "I'll report you to your wifey, Sir. You've been hit by someone else." "Quiet, class." Sir said shyly I'm not a fool not to know what's going on. "Class dismissed!" Sir said stunned and quickly left "Yessss !!!" Everyone shouted in joy and I unbelievably shook my head. I guess that was their way to get dismissed early. "Shoot! That's really nice!" I was surprised when I looked up they were all around me. They just stared at my face as if criticizing. "Hi. I'm Hero. The hero of your life, Miss Ganda." Introduced the man with blonde hair The woman next to him pushed it with maltreatment the former. "Your line, Hero. It's rotten!" He shouted and turned to me "You're so freaking gorgeous. May I know where you bought your skin care products?" I laughed at the question. "I don't do skin care." "What ?! For real ?!" suddenly shouted the man with a shrill voice 'Is gay.' "Yes." I replied "Woahh .." they whispered in amazement They introduced themselves one by one and they took me to the cafe afterwards. When we entered the cafeteria, the people here immediately turned around. The strength of the voices of those with me. We turned to the counter. "I'll order for you, Nhiana Ganda." Kiel said smiling I shook. "I'm fine, Kiel. Don't worry." It no longer roared and was already at the table where the others were already. "Oh my ... Is she even real?" "Plastic surgery." "She's freaking beautiful!" "Nice tol! Strategic later." "She's real! Shoot! She's too beautiful." Those are just a few of the whispers I hear. I simply looked around and they were all looking at me. Geez ... "Nhiana!" Shaine and Shane and the rest of us waved at me. Smiling I headed to where they were. "How can she walk so gracefully?" "Woahh ..." I just ignored them and sat between Shane and Shaine./0/85407/coverorgin.jpg?v=03249ce24b4f5d179b001b5881ad99fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Surviving Eleanor: A Daughter's Rebellion
The smell of grain and something sour-a barn in my suburban kitchen-was the first sign of something deeply wrong with my seemingly normal life with my mother, Eleanor. Standing over the blender, humming an unsettling tune, she poured what looked like chicken feed into it, her eyes wild with a grim, fanatical determination. "It's for your own good, Sarah," she explained, utterly calm, "The curse from your past life, when you were a neglected pig, is still holding you back. This will cleanse you." My stomach lurched; this wasn' t the first time she' d spouted Mrs. Gable's charlatan nonsense, but the ritualistic "cleansing" had never been this tangible. "I am not drinking animal feed," I said, my voice shaking with disgust. "This is insane." Her composure shattered. "You will drink it!" she shrieked, lunging at me with the sloshing blender jar, pinning me against the wall as the world went dark. I gasped, sucking in the familiar, acrid smell, my eyes snapping open to find myself on the kitchen floor, my mother still humming, the bag of chicken feed unopened. I scrambled up, touching the back of my head-no blood, no pain, just the impossible, terrifying realization: I had died, and now I was back. "Mom, what are you doing?" the words escaped me, a ghostly echo of a conversation that had already occurred. Her face held the same fanatical expression, as she began, "It's for your own good, Sarah. Mrs. Gable was very clear-" "No," I cut her off, the phantom pain in my skull too real, "Stop." Then came the final blow, a chilling announcement that shattered any remaining hope: "I've already found a man for you. Mark will be here any minute. He's a good, strong man. He knows what to do with a difficult woman like you." This wasn't just a curse; it was a cage. I had to get out./0/83464/coverorgin.jpg?v=78231925339858d8fe2db764d383e945&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When The Dead Come Knocking
Thanksgiving was supposed to be quiet this year, just me wrapped in a blanket, the Macy' s Parade playing to an empty house. My mom and brother, Maria and Leo, died a week ago, leaving me utterly alone. Then my phone buzzed. It was Mom's number. I answered, terrified, and a thin, distorted voice whispered, "Sweetheart, we're almost home." And there they were, knocking on the door. Pale, stiff, holding grocery bags. They acted normal, but their movements were jerky, their eyes hollow. They even removed their own memorial photos from the mantelpiece. My dread deepened when they insisted I drink a strange concoction, a glass of cider or eggnog with a sinister black ash residue at the bottom. What was going on? Why were they here, yet so unnerving? Were they trying to hurt me, or was something far more twisted at play? Just as I felt a strange connection fading, a chilling reflection in a window revealed the impossible truth: the reflection wasn't mine. It was the face of the boy who killed me. It wasn't their accident. It was mine. And they had brought me back./0/48102/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d336b3aef36ac74414d9ce1addbe625&imageMogr2/format/webp)
C.E.N.T.U.R.Y: No escape
In a world where sinister forces reign, Jake Willson, a 19-year-old from London, finds himself entangled in a horrifying game orchestrated by the notorious C.E.N.T.U.R.Y organization. Little did he know that this wicked game would lead him to form an unlikely alliance with two friends, 18 year old Sarah West and 19 year old Mark Smith, both residents of New Orleans. Before their abduction, Jake, Sarah, and Mark were living ordinary lives, unaware of the darkness that awaited them. Suddenly, they wake up disoriented and frightened, confined to a mysterious room. A harrowing revelation soon hits them-they are just three amongst a total of 100 captives who are being subjected to a series of 100 deadly escape rooms, designed solely for the sadistic pleasure of C.E.N.T.U.R.Y. As the trio progresses from one treacherous room to another, they rely on their unique skills and resourcefulness to survive. Each room presents its own challenges and moral dilemmas, testing their friendship as they grapple with decisions that could mean life or death for themselves and their fellow captives. Amidst the turmoil, they stumble upon fragments of clues that hint at the organization's true motives, pushing them to unravel the darkest secrets of C.E.N.T.U.R.Y. They discover that sacrifices have been made in the past to satisfy the sadistic desires of their captors. The challenges escalate, and with each deadly encounter, the tension within the trio grows. Trust becomes a fragile thread as they face moments of suspense, overcome booby traps, and confront formidable enemies lurking within the rooms. Even more devastating, a traitor emerges from their ranks, intensifying their paranoia and desperation. Ultimately, the game reaches its climactic final room, where Jake and Sarah uncover a shocking truth-Mark, their trusted teammate, is the CEO of C.E.N.T.U.R.Y. In a gritty battle fueled by cunning tactics and unwavering determination, they outsmart their former ally, escape the final room, and expose the dark intentions of C.E.N.T.U.R.Y to the world. Though they celebrate their victory, the leader of C.E.N.T.U.R.Y manages to evade capture, leaving the trio determined to bring justice to the organization. Armed with the evidence they collected during their confrontation, Jake and Sarah set out to ensure that the horrors of C.E.N.T.U.R.Y are exposed and that no one else falls victim to its sadistic pleasure./0/23769/coverorgin.jpg?v=bf25d33ab206409e23545975a3048ed9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Villa
The holiday turned into a dreadful one. When they enter a room they shouldn't be!. Repeat events that have happened before. Will they be safe? Or are they the ones who will pick up death like the others??. "Charlie !!!" "Nadine!! No!! Hold on!!" "Cheline, Where are you??" "Rico? H-help me..." "Reza...Watch out!!!" "Arghh... Michele" "Marchel ?? W where are you? Hiks...Im scared..." "Fathia...I do not will let you die"/1/114944/coverorgin.jpg?v=6016e3527e1cab2ac1118a55032d307d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
house of horrors
The murder wasn't the beginning. It was the first confession. In the house of horrors, no one is innocent, and no one leaves the same as they came in. Nasser was more than just a father. And that night... Nour wasn't just a wife. It was the beginning of something far worse. A body inside a quiet house. Malik and Sophia see their murdered mother... and then everything begins to change. Secrets... don't die. Malik... hasn't forgotten. That scene didn't just pass by... it was etched in his mind... and transformed inside him... into something dark. Malik: "I could see blood... even when I closed my eyes." Malik: "I thought I was having a nightmare... until I realized I was becoming part of it." Malik wasn't born a murderer... but the house was enough to make him one. Days pass, but the house doesn't forget. Voices in the hallways. Shadows moving without owners... And faces... no longer the same. 💔 A frightened sister... living on the edge of the abyss. 🧠 A mind slowly crumbles... unnoticed. 🩸 And a desire... takes shape in the darkness. Every room... holds a memory. Every wall... is a witness. And every silence... conceals a crime. Then... the truth begins to emerge. Not everything that happened was an accident. And not everyone in the house is a victim. In this place, you are either a murderer or you await your turn./0/85744/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b63c6a1d5437593e2c60afd48b6abc5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Blinded Bride, Vengeful Heart
The world was a blur, then nothing. I woke up to blinding darkness and a chemical stench, my eyes replaced by thick bandages. Panic set in fast. Then, Liam, my fiancé, was there, his voice a balm. "What happened? Our wedding is tomorrow." He soothed me, but a cold dread seeped in. I was blind. I overheard Liam' s hushed, chilling conversation. He told the doctor, "Ashley Green… The donation is coming from Chloe. It's a perfect match." My blood ran cold. They wanted my eyes, while I was alive. Then, the final blow. "I want her uterus removed." The man I was to marry was systematically carving me up for his true love, my protégé, Ashley. They thought me a broken thing. They were wrong. They had given me a new reason to live. Revenge. I would play the part of the devoted, broken fiancée. And I would make them pay for everything. My family, the powerful Davis clan, had no idea what had become of their secretly wealthy daughter. Little did Liam know, he was inviting my eldest brother, Ethan Davis, to officiate our wedding. My undoing would become their demise./0/21179/coverorgin.jpg?v=e05de26da08c046323e35e10cdffc3d9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shallows Creek: Requiem Of The Guilty
In the town of Shallows Creek paranoia and surperstition run rampant in the populace fueled by the teachings of the church. A killer who can't be traced is targeting the wealthy and powerful causing an uproar in the townsfolk who blame vengeful spirits for these crimes. With no level heads in sight and the constables stumped they call on the service of the peculiar Doctor Kent Lockheart studier of the occult and human anatomy. A victim of superstitious mobs in his youth, he now strives to show the misguided masses that with reason and logic even the unexplained can be explained. With tid bits of humor and plenty of mystery to go around Lockheart must navigate through the dark side of humanity to prove that man is always the monster./0/52003/coverorgin.jpg?v=36af6869980b90852f9522e2f3734ba3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Where are you, Samantha?
When Samantha, a kind woman with an odd and mysterious past, disappeared; everyone thought she has been abducted and murdered. However, in the process of unravelling her past, Kathleen: Samantha's best friend, together with her friends, found out the truth behind her disappearance. Before the team could even articulate an effective plan on how to get her back, she peculiarly appeared before them—or did she?/0/86071/coverorgin.jpg?v=d06f7e224605fe96b9d8dea7e7a73f76&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wedding Night Curse
On the night of her arranged wedding, Alika Morgan never imagined she'd be standing in a candlelit mansion-married to a man she barely knows, Ethan Blackwell, heir to a cursed legacy. The Blackwell family mansion is beautiful, ancient... and haunted by secrets no one dares to speak of. But when the mirror in their bridal chamber bleeds, and whispers echo her name from behind its glass, Alika begins to suspect her fate was never hers to choose. Each night brings visions of brides long dead. Each step takes her deeper into the darkness Ethan hides behind his cold eyes. There is a contract written in blood. A wedding bound by death. And a curse that only a true sacrifice can break. Will Alika survive the night her soul was promised? Or will love become the very thing that damns her?/0/22156/coverorgin.jpg?v=9c8e8006307d6cf819e1821596a99d15&imageMogr2/format/webp)
NARROW
A teenage girl loses her will to live and commits suicide in a bid to live. Her abusers thought it would be the end of her — but they were wrong, dead wrong. When bodies start turning up and deaths can no longer be naturally justified, It becomes an open secret that Victoria Dante's spirit is walking through the halls of the Halide Academy and her thirst for blood is stronger than ever./0/84130/coverorgin.jpg?v=7ddf70ef89993a0ffc3fca02926f2e22&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Abuse, Her Undoing, His End
My life with Andrew was a constant dance around the baseball bat, a premonition of my own bloody end that haunted my every waking moment. Then, I found my father-in-law, Mr. Scott, in a pool of his own blood on the kitchen floor, a deep gash on his forehead. Instead of calling 911, I manipulated my lifelong hemophobia and feigned terror, dialing Andrew' s cousin, Ethan, a kind paramedic, dragging him into a manufactured crisis. At the hospital, Andrew' s true colors bled through: he cursed me, refused to sign for his dying father' s emergency surgery, and screamed divorce, all while giggling with his mistress, Sabrina, in the background. He even tried to strangle me at his father' s funeral, abandoning the casket to rush to Sabrina' s side, believing her needs superseded everything. I wasn' t a helpless victim anymore; I recorded his abuse, exposed his heartless acts online, and watched, stone-faced, as the internet tore him apart, leading to his public humiliation and firing. But Andrew, fueled by rage and paranoia, wasn't done; he came for me, knife in hand, convinced I was conspiring to steal his inheritance with Ethan. When Ethan arrived and got stabbed trying to save me, something snapped inside him, and he furiously plunged the knife into Andrew, again and again. Ethan got prison time for manslaughter, but Andrew' s death wasn' t just a simple crime of passion; his wife' s whispered revelation at the funeral, a calculated confession of her own brutal past with Ethan, shattered my understanding of what truly happened that night. Now, years later, I am finally free, walking away from the ghosts and the blood, ready to build a new life for myself, but the true scope of the sacrifices made for my freedom still lingers./0/19891/coverorgin.jpg?v=a50e8b9b3ae7f0c8c69c5ba3063a8100&imageMogr2/format/webp)
CURSE
Dina is an ordinary student who got a chance to become a ramp model in a modeling agency. She got in and accepted as a trainee. The trainer and the agency owner sees her as a potential to become the top model in the country. During the practice for one major event, she accidentally saw a murder in the building. However, no one knows she has the ability to see ghosts. She sees the ghost of the girl she found dead in the comfort room. What is the secret of the modeling agency and the models? How far can an individual do just to achieve her dreams in life?/0/82837/coverorgin.jpg?v=915961a61fd60d1a2dd6dd7f57e09005&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When the Sky Bleeds Patches
The white light faded, leaving me in a Louisiana swamp, mud squelching under my boots. My head throbbed, a familiar echo of the screams and blood from the last game. The System' s voice, tinny and cold, declared my status: "Active. Choice: Continue or Perish." Another round, another nightmare. Our objective? Find "coverings" for Mother Hemlock, a decrepit phantom haunting a sprawling, dilapidated manor. A biker, Jax, tried to defy her. In an instant, she ripped his clothes right off him, leaving him exposed, screaming, before absorbing him and casting him from a high window to become a "patch" for her. Panic set in as we scrambled for scraps, but Mother Hemlock's demands escalated. Others offered the wrong things – metal, useless trinkets – and simply vanished, their screams replaced by the rustle of her growing, tattered robes. Our dwindling supplies meant our turn was coming, and we'd seen what happened when you had nothing left to give. What was this impossible "covering" she truly craved? Through an old telescope, I stared at the horrifying truth: the moon itself wasn' t real. It was a giant, grotesque quilt of stitched material, and her macabre collection was adding to the actual sky. But a haunting Creole lullaby whispered a cryptic clue: "patchwork moon... in the water deep." With resources gone and Mother Hemlock' s final collection imminent, I clung to that chilling song. The sky was high, yes, but what about its reflection? Racing against time, I plunged into the murky bayou, praying the distorted "moon" shimmering on the water's surface held the real answer, the last hope to escape this horrifying, stitched fate./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./0/83816/coverorgin.jpg?v=744af9a88752923b7e1d424493d8917e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unseen Witness: A Murder Revealed
My name is Elara Vance, and I've been dead for five years. I'm a ghost, trapped in the dilapidated lakeside cabin where I was murdered. For half a decade, I' ve been forced to witness the world remember me as 'the psycho foster kid' who died of an overdose, 'the monster,' 'the ungrateful charity case.' This is the false narrative my adoptive family, the Vances, spun to cover their tracks. Tonight, a famous YouTuber, Chad Logan, aka 'The Exterminator,' announces his next spectacle: a live exorcism-right here, in my cabin. He' s coming to 'confront the evil spirit of Elara Vance.' On his livestream, a river of hate scrolls by: 'Get that demon!' 'She was a monster!' My adoptive parents, who orchestrated my demise, watch with cold disgust. My 'perfect' sister, Seraphina, likely fakes a single tear for her followers, while my adoptive brother, Ethan-my one-time protector-is probably consumed by guilt, having believed their meticulously crafted lies and abandoned me in my darkest hour. The injustice burns, a powerless knot of nothing within me. They painted me as a delinquent, a charity case gone wrong, suppressing the horrifying truth of what they did. But buried beneath the floorboards of this rotten cabin lies my only hope: a journal and an SD card. They hold the undeniable truth. Tomorrow, the very man intent on solidifying my monstrous legacy might be the unwilling key to my salvation. I just need to find the strength to make him see./0/85440/coverorgin.jpg?v=173e804e1e2213100889c42604d97eb3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Debt of Love, A Family's Curse
We moved into a new house in August, a fresh start my dad called the American dream. Bigger house, two-car garage-everything seemed perfect, a step up for our family. Then, the shelf in the garage collapsed, crushing Grandma' s precious altar, the one she' d used for protection for years. Soon after, my uncle Bob died in a freak car accident, and then I fell violently ill with a fever no doctor could break. I was lucid enough to hear my parents whisper about something wrong, something unnatural. Lying there, burning up, I heard voices, saw things no one else could, arguing with an invisible presence that seemed to cling to me. Mom desperately sought out a strange old woman, Mrs. Albright, who claimed to understand what was happening. She told us it wasn't me that was sick; it was our new house. She said we had broken an ancient pact, angered a hungry entity by discarding Grandma's altar and a carved wooden box. My pragmatic father, who believed only in logic and reason, was forced to confront the impossible: Mrs. Albright knew everything, details we hadn' t shared, about the altar, the box, and the feeling that something was watching us. How could she know? What ancient bargain had my family made, and why was it now demanding payment? There was no denying it now; the world had shifted, and we were trapped in a nightmare of our own making. "Find the box," she rasped, her unsettling pale eyes fixed on me, "and make an offering, or it will take another one of you."/0/25743/coverorgin.jpg?v=9115f62340f64e72932af7ce604df750&imageMogr2/format/webp)
