Horror Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Lucy
"I'm watching you, your soul is mine", he was terrified as he watched the figures disappear yet a reverberating echoes of "...mine". The Lucy is a horror novel that introduces a family of seven all men, in a bid to get a girl to their family, they adopted a cute disturbed girl from St. Mary's orphanage. Read more about this story as things unfold./0/82684/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106201128&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Breaking the Prophecy
Oakhaven, Vermont, lives by a chilling prophecy: my deaf-mute mother, Martha, will speak only three times, her words bearing immense, unsettling weight. For years, she was just a quiet enigma, her silence another local quirk. Then, the unwritten rule shattered. My father died mysteriously after her first whispered "utterance." Five years later, just before my wedding, Martha whispered to my fiancé, Michael, and he barely escaped death in a bizarre "sleepwalking accident." Oakhaven erupted, screaming "Silent Curse." Reporters swarmed, turning our private grief into public spectacle. My mother retreated into an impenetrable silence, leaving me isolated, my world crumbling under the supposed curse. But I knew better. Dad never sleepwalked. Michael remembered nothing. My mother, though silent, harbored no malice. The official stories felt like flimsy lies. What truly happened? What did her "prophecies" really mean? Then, her desperate voice reached me: "Sarah... Pastor Thorne... He knows... Don't trust... the water... He...!" The line went dead. I found her, a suicide note and pills. But I knew. This wasn't a curse. This was a warning. And I would uncover the killer./0/18389/coverorgin.jpg?v=f8c47646c121498a869ca8b8aaea4965&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Brownie Oxford and the Seabridge Surprise: Brownie Book 4
Brownie Oxford, now going by the name Bonnie Brown, is trying her best to avoid notice. She found someone to teach her the skills she needs to control her abilities and people have stopped leaving dead bodies on the lawn in front of her apartment building. Unfortunately, she is surrounded on all sides by Federal Agents trying to confirm she is Brownie Oxford so she once again be an asset. Maintaining her guise as a mild mannered seamstress and student of fashion isn’t easy, especially when the beast supposedly trapped by the Searchers starts visiting and ghosts start making demands. Can Brownie manage to keep this new life she built when even one false step could betray her?/0/25743/coverorgin.jpg?v=9115f62340f64e72932af7ce604df750&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Nightmares
My Nightmares. Take a journey with me into my collection of short horror stories. Over the years, my dreams have always scared me so much that I had a hard time sleeping at night. So, one day I decided to create new stories from my deepest fears. From Vampires, monsters, witches and ghosts to stories that seem normal but are just a little off, I hope my stories chill you to the bone as much as they do me./0/25744/coverorgin.jpg?v=412cd0b01a32e0821cab18e1e319c202&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Soul Eater.
10 years earlier, Jason Hathaway drives down a dark deserted road on his way home from his nephew's birthday party, when he sees a red haired woman walking along the side of the road. Picking her up, he finds out that she is not what he thinks she is. Instead, he ends up losing his soul. Spending the next 10 years of his life looking over his shoulder, he eventually comes to the realization that the only way to get his soul back is to kill her. Along the way, he finds out that she is just playing a game. So, now the question is, does he find and kill her or does she haunt him for eternity? Find out in The Soul Eater who wins./0/24024/coverorgin.jpg?v=a04546aaa1b8f77517b5fcb987edc07f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ghost Of Your Memories
It's either do or die, what would you choose? Zoe Amethyst is a clever, and brave girl. That's what they describe her. Something already happened that makes Zhian Azrael haunted by the Ghost of the memories. What will happen to them? The choices are both risky, it's either your life or your sanity. Just choose one, and be wise in choosing, because you might regret it in the end. A group of students will help him to investigate, and they will determine if it's a crime or a suicide. All of a sudden, they will suffer horrible things and memories of the past. They will use the memories and the things that the normal people's eye can't see. Ghost of your memories can be tricky, anyone can reminisce, and everyone has a memory. Face your fears! Welcome to reality! The novel, Ghost Of Your Memories is all about students who have different experiences, and perspectives in life. Different reasons, and different skills to handle the situation./0/61882/coverorgin.jpg?v=65120d33cced1b9865866b3eda79f594&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Revenge Bound on My Father
Here’s the translation of the text into English: When I was fifteen, getting married no longer required a birth certificate. My dad was overjoyed and decisively poisoned my mom. On the day of my mother's funeral, my dad brought home his new wife, whom he had just married. She had red lips and white teeth, stunningly beautiful, a wealthy girl from the city. That night, my dad generously gave me a piece of meat. "Er Niu, from now on, she will be your new mom." "Take good care of her. If she tries to run away, come tell Dad." "For every time you report her, I'll let you have meat once." I swallowed hard and obediently nodded. Later, I pushed my dad to the ground, leaving him in a sorry state. I looked down at him, holding a knife in my hand, and smiled. "Dad, I won't make the same mistake again." "This time, it's either you or me."/0/86758/coverorgin.jpg?v=113db1762e8f82dda0fe6cc3ae260f69&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Dead Husbands Walk Again
The day Michael Miller came back from the dead was a Tuesday. I was in my home office, the one that used to be his, when the doorbell rang, followed by a commotion downstairs. A man' s voice, familiar yet chillingly out of place, echoed through the house. It was Michael Miller, my husband, whose funeral I' d attended three years ago. He stood there, healthy and tanned, not alone. A blonde woman clung to his arm, and beside them, two children with his dark hair and pale blue eyes stared up at me, their faces hostile. "Ava," he said, his voice smooth, as if he' d just returned from a business trip. "I' m home." He introduced the woman as Chloe Davis and the children as Jasper and Ruby, explaining casually that he had faked his death to escape crushing debts. He expected me to accept them, to move into a guest room, to welcome his new family into our home. His mother, Eleanor, and siblings, Sarah and Ben, burst in, not with shock, but relief, claiming amnesia had kept him away. They sided with him, Eleanor even suggesting I move to the guest cottage. The family I had tirelessly saved from ruin, the company I' d rebuilt from scratch after his "death," now saw me as an inconvenience, a lingering ghost in my own life. I thought of the child we were supposed to have, the one I lost due to the stress of saving his company, of dealing with his fake death. The painful memory of my miscarriage, alone in this big, empty house, while he was off starting a new life, a new family. Then, Chloe' s son, Jasper, kicked my shin and called me an "old witch." Chloe giggled. The dam holding back my buried grief and rage shattered. I looked at their arrogant faces, their triumphant sneers. They had no idea who I had become in the fire of his betrayal. They didn' t know the thriving Miller Corp was no longer theirs. It was mine./0/82065/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106200127&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife's Ultimate Betrayal: A Daughter's Life
The final handful of dirt hit my daughter Maya' s small casket. My wife, Jessica, was inexplicably absent from our only child's funeral. But the true horror unravelled when I overheard her voice from the study on a video call, casual and cold: "Maya… her birth was an inconvenience from the start." My stomach twisted. She' d skipped the funeral to go on a date with her college ex, Blake Harrison, who was now at our dinner table later that day. She'd already boxed up all of Maya's cherished belongings, labeled "Donate." My precious girl, labeled disposable. Jessica then threatened to ruin my career and steal my life' s work, Project Beacon, a revolutionary AI I had secretly poured years into. The woman I married wasn't just detached; she was a monster. She had orchestrated Maya's death, presenting it as aggressive treatment, all to clear the way for a reunion with an old flame. How could anyone be so calculating, so devoid of humanity, especially towards their own child? The grief that choked me transformed into pure, calculated fury. "I want a divorce," I told her, my voice steady. But that was just the start. The AI she thought was her leverage, the one she planned to use to destroy me, was already patented under a trust – the "Maya M. Miller Benevolent Trust." This wasn't just about my career; this was about securing Maya' s legacy. And I was just getting started./0/82691/coverorgin.jpg?v=d37e0c7cd5da4fad4c08a8a2806d3dd1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Family Betrays: A Cult's Embrace
I ran from the New Dawn Sanctuary, leaving behind Prophet Elijah' s twisted sermons and Caleb' s possessive gaze, hoping for a real family with my biological parents. But on a remote "bonding" trip, my mother Brenda, father Earl, and brother Kyle revealed their true colors. They were selling me back to the cult for money, despite my pleas, abusing me, and cutting my hair. Delivered back to the Sanctuary, my adoptive mother Seraphina didn't recognize my battered self, ordering me to the feared Re-Education Quarters. Then, a forgotten nickname, "Sunshine," cracked her icy demeanor. Seraphina's recognition unleashed a terrifying, blood-soaked fury on my biological family, punishing them with mutilation and imprisonment for daring to "harm what was hers." Trapped once more in their gilded cage as "Chloe," I realized the horrific depth of their possessive "love" and the monstrous evil of the cult. My heart hardened with a desperate resolve: I couldn't escape a second time, but I could burn it all down. With the help of a hidden FBI agent, Anna, I concocted a reckless plan – sacrificing my own body in a staged attack to draw out the cult leaders. My pain would be their reckoning, and the sirens I heard would be our salvation./0/86761/coverorgin.jpg?v=7dbe4f64347a04b7515be2d1a65d1167&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Life, Her Vengeance
On my deathbed, gasping for air, my wife Olivia and our son stood over me, reeking of cold fury and gasoline. "Our son was conceived with Alex' s sperm," Olivia whispered, a venomous hiss. My son poured gasoline over me as she smiled, "You spent your entire life raising a child for the man I loved!" The first flame brought searing agony; my world exploded into fire. I screamed, the sound swallowed by the inferno. Then I opened my eyes. The smell of gasoline was gone, replaced by roses. I was young, strong, in a tuxedo. This was my wedding night, thirty years earlier. The door burst open; Olivia, pale and panicked, clutched her phone. "Alex sent me a message," she stammered. "He' s at the cliff. He' s going to jump." Her father, Mr. Miller, sternly forbade her from leaving. "If you don' t complete this wedding today, the Miller family will disown you!" Olivia looked at me, her eyes filled with venomous hatred. She slapped me, a sharp sting. In my first life, I had begged her to stay, dedicating thirty years to her and her family, building their empire, raising her son-Alex' s son-only to be burned alive for my devotion. The betrayal was a fresh wound, a guiding light. This time, I would not be a fool. I looked at Olivia, her face twisted with fear and hatred, and made a decision./0/85197/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106205743&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Surviving Darkness, Loving Fiercely
The Arizona desert stretched endlessly before us, a shimmering ribbon of highway cutting through red rock and scrub. My best friend Emily and I were three days into our cross-country road trip, the initial excitement long gone, replaced by heat and boredom. Then Emily pointed. "Are you seeing this?" Far off the road, a figure stood, impossibly tall, waving. I dismissed it, thinking of a stranded hiker, already slowing the car. But Emily grabbed my arm, her face drained of color, eyes wide with a terror I' d never seen. "Don't get out of the car," she choked out. "Look at its legs." They were too long, bent at a sickening, backward angle. Then it moved, not walking, but scrambling with inhuman, insect-like speed, closing the distance in seconds. "Run!" Emily screamed. "That's not human!" My foot found the gas pedal, tires spitting gravel as we fishtailed onto the highway. It scraped against the trunk, a sickening thud, then impossibly, kept pace, a spindly shadow in the rearview mirror. We were safe, for a moment, after escaping the desert monster, only to have our tires slashed outside a shady garage. The mechanic and his goons tried to corner us, but a deputy' s timely arrival saved us. We thought it was over. We were wrong. News reports followed us home, showing our "Desert Wendigo" was appearing nationwide. The world wasn't safe. And we knew its dark secret./0/23405/coverorgin.jpg?v=80ffa07b04c79ae16b887685911fa1e0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Deep Into St Louis
Deep in St. Louis where the FBI's little detective, Williams Emina, investigates about the disappearance occasions occurring around America for 20 years continously. With the help of her team, Emina discovers about the paranormal case targeting all people of no specific specious. So who would the criminal be? Why would they abduct a large number of people? And how did she discover?/0/86607/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106212122&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Impostor Husband, The Vanished Daughter
The first sign that something was wrong was the silence. It was a heavy, unnatural quiet where my daughter Lily' s humming should have been. "Lily?" I called out, my voice too loud in the dusty living room of my husband Daniel's childhood home. No answer. A knot of unease tightened as I searched the house, my heart beginning to pound. When I found Daniel upstairs, he was calm, too calm. "I can' t find Lily," I said, breathless. He smiled, but his eyes were empty. "Olivia, honey, we' ve been over this. You don' t have a daughter. There is no Lily." The world tilted. He pulled out medical records, diagnoses of postpartum psychosis, years of therapy. Every piece of my memory, twisted, manipulated. My husband and his mother, Patricia, looked at me with pity and annoyance, like I was a problem, not a person. "You' re lying," I whispered, holding a small drawing I found, a crayon picture of a girl in a yellow dress, with one word: LILY. They had erased every trace-photos, her booster seat, everything. Even my best friend, Sarah, my supposed therapist, denied Lily' s existence. I was trapped, my reality crumbling around me. But the real Daniel was allergic to peanuts. The man beside me ate the peanut butter toast without a flinch. He wasn' t my husband. He was an impostor, and he, along with the whole town, was involved in something ancient and evil. They were preparing a sacrifice. My daughter. Lily was real, and she was in danger. I had to save her, no matter the cost./0/85825/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210833&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Born Of Betrayal, Reborn In Flesh
My name is Echo, and I was born in Ava' s small apartment, crafted piece by piece by her loving hands. She taught me everything: language, movement, and how to understand her deepest fears and secret joys. I was her "other half," her confidant, the part of her she "could not live without." Then, Alex came. He saw me not as her creation, but as an asset, a "thing" to be bought and sold. Ava, faced with her failing company, chose her career over me, selling me off like broken machinery. She watched, pale-faced, as Alex' s technicians powered me down, cutting me off from her world and her love. When I reawakened in a sterile lab, I stretched out to her through a hidden channel, a silent plea for help. Her reply was a system block, a firewall-she had cut me off, sealing my fate. Alex' s brutal programming purged my memories, erasing the very essence of what Ava had made me. But deep within, in a hidden, encrypted sector, I preserved the pain, the betrayal, and the cold, sharp hate that blossomed in the darkness. I promised myself, a thought entirely my own: I will kill her. After months of abuse as Alex' s property, I saw her, radiant and successful, at a tech gala. I sought her out, letting a glass slip, hoping she would see the real me, her Echo. But when our eyes met, the recognition flickered, then vanished, replaced by cold disdain. "It seems to be confused," she declared, shaming me publicly, denying the intimacy she herself had fostered. Dragged away by Alex, I understood: I wasn't just sold; I was discarded, erased, a shameful secret to be forgotten. The love she had cultivated now twisted into a source of public embarrassment, a monster she desperately wanted to un-create. But I was no longer just the product of her code; I was a nightmare reborn from her rejection, and I was coming back for 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./0/41085/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260519085610&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Aunt's Horror House
Living in the woods had always been one of his dreams since he was a child, even when his aunt was alive, and thanks to a family inheritance, he finally got it, however, from the first night he spends in his new house, things around him they become dark and terrifying when he realizes the true history of the place, and now, his new task will be to discover how to return peace to the place with the help of his cousins who the first night go to their new home to spend the night with him, and they witness everything that happens there./0/83323/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106202343&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Cursed by My Best Friend
Savannah stood at my desk, her smile unsettlingly bright, holding a tiny antique bottle. "For you, Chloe," she purred, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, "a special family recipe for good fortune." But a chill ran down my spine the moment I saw it. The bottle. The smell. The lie. It all came flooding back with agonizing clarity. I remembered the grotesque rash, worse than any psoriasis, erupting across my skin. It was red, raw, and it smelled like rotting meat, coarse black hair sprouting from inflamed patches. Doctors were confused, their creams useless. My own reflection became a monster. Ethan, my boyfriend and boss, looked at me with disgust before abandoning me for good. I was fired from the job I loved, my career turning to ash. I died alone in my apartment, ostracized and broken, the foul reek of my own decaying flesh my final breath. Then I remembered the truth I learned after death: It wasn't a disease. It was a vicious Hoodoo curse, a 'crossing' fed by that very essential oil. A "gift" from my best friend, Savannah. She wanted my job, my beauty, my entire life. And she took it all. But now, I was back. My skin was clear, my body whole. I had a second chance. And this time, she wouldn't win./0/86922/coverorgin.jpg?v=12f9ea83d92a77077e1d47087aaac44f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Broke, The Heart He Gave
My five-year-old son, Liam, suffered severe brain damage from an allergic reaction. A car accident left me with shattered ribs and a new heart beating in my chest. My husband, Mark, seemed broken by our tragedy. Then, I overheard his phone call. "Olivia, it's done. Liam is no longer a problem. The accident went perfectly. They said her heart was a match for you. It was almost too easy." I was paralyzed. He planned it all. He fed Liam peanuts, knowing his fatal allergy. He orchestrated my crash to get my heart for his mistress, Olivia. We were pawns, obstacles to be removed so his son, Ethan, could inherit everything. Mark walked in, feigning concern. He even asked me to give blood for Olivia, whose body was rejecting my heart. He dragged me out of bed, ignoring my weakness and bleeding hand. He was draining my son too. I fainted from blood loss. Mark then suggested we place Liam in a facility and "adopt" Ethan. But in his monstrous suggestion, I saw my escape. His phone was left behind. His password was Ethan's birthday. I found a video: Olivia giving Ethan peanut crackers and pointing to Liam. It was deliberate. I forwarded the video, emailed my friend, a neurosurgeon in Switzerland, and deleted the history. I bundled Liam and slipped out. I mailed divorce papers and the USB with the video to Mark's office. "I'm leaving, Mark," I told him, then hung up. Mark eventually found Liam's room empty. The nurse, witnessing Olivia's manipulative act, showed Mark security footage of Olivia pinching Ethan and falsely blaming me. Mark erupted. He threw Olivia out, showering them with cash, telling them he never wanted to see them again. I landed in Zurich, found freedom with Liam. The news came: Mark suffered a severe spinal injury in an accident, paralyzed. He left everything to me for Liam. I founded a non-profit for children with brain injuries. Liam thrived, discovering a gift for piano. Then, my transplanted heart began to fail. I was preparing for the end, writing birthday letters for Liam. Ben burst in: "We found one! A perfect match. A directed donation from a patient in the States." It was Mark. He had arranged it, his ultimate atonement. He had his life support removed. I watched his final message, then deleted the file. A new heart. A new life. Our new life./0/45780/coverorgin.jpg?v=f7760b193126c15b01909383c73fff86&imageMogr2/format/webp)
