Other books that might interest you

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  Alone After Midnight: True...

  Lorna Black

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  When reality fractures, ordinary lives spiral into uncanny horror in this anthology of glitch-in-the-matrix tales.
   
  Designed for the quiet dread of late-night listening, these accounts expose the terrifying porosity of our world. If you have ever felt truly alone in a new apartment or experienced a moment of déjà vu that felt like a warning, this collection speaks directly to that primal paranoia.
   
  Move beyond traditional hauntings into a landscape of high strangeness where time doubles back and domestic safety dissolves. These narratives focus on the human response to the inexplicable—the isolation of seeing something reality refuses to acknowledge.
   
  What you will encounter in the dark:
  
  Systemic Glitches: Experience fractures in time, phantom phone calls, and media that refuses to stay fixed.
  Cosmic Dread: Discover a presence that persists across decades, suggesting our lives are being observed or corrected.
  Interactive Mystery: Navigate a curated experience where one story belongs to the narrator, blurring the line between fiction and confession.
  
   
  A shadowed figure guides you through these ten encounters, acting as both curator and participant. Their eventual revelation challenges the safety of the listener, transforming the audiobook from a set of eerie anecdotes into a meditation on fate and surveillance.
   
  Prepare to question whether the pattern is in the recording, or currently unfolding in the room with you.

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  The Necromancer goes to Jail

  Rachel Lawson

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  "I hear you could break out of jail if you wanted to," said the guard."Yes it's easy but where's the fun in that," said Lance smiling impishly."What fun can you have in jail?" asked the Kingpin."Not been here long enough for it to be a bore yet," Lance said who was having fun messing with their minds. 
  "I will not do it!" Lance Alexander to his uncle Sergeant Simon Alexander-Drax. 
  "It's alright! You won't be there long!" said his uncle. 
  "Then you go there!" said Lance shortly. 
  Lance's dad the coroner walked into the room. 
  "I can't!" said Lance digging his boots into the floor. 
  "You can't what?" asked Blake Alexander, Lance's dad. 
  "I can't go to prison as the Necromancer," said Lance. 
  "Why can't you," asked his uncle. 
  "Do you think he's the Necromancer?" asked Blake. 
  "Of course not we need a man we can trust on the inside who can pose as the Necromancer to entrap a prison kingpin," said Simon. 
  "You planning to come out as dead are you?" asked Lance not threatening just stating a fact the father of the Necromancer was Mortimer the grim reaper, King. 
  "I am not going to be around for that," said Blake planning a holiday in hell when Lance came out as the Necromancer a serial killer. 
  "Where are you going?" asked Blake's Uncle. 
  "Never you mind," said Blake. 
  "He's a coward," said Lance. 
  "No would you be in my place I can't be deposed as emperor of the solar system if I'm not there," Blake said. 
  "Didn't think of that," said Simon. 
  "I'll do it," said Lance defiantly thinking how much of a problem it would be to his father.

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  The Green Bowl - Pioneering...

  Sarah Orne Jewett

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  Theodora Sarah Orne Jewett was born on 3rd September 1849 in South Berwick, Maine, to a family that had resided in New England for several generations. 
   
  From early childhood Jewett suffered from rheumatoid arthritis and one remedy was frequent walks which contributed to her life-long love of nature. 
   
  She was primarily educated at Miss Olive Rayne's school and then the Berwick Academy from where she graduated in 1866.  But much of her time was also spent reading from the extensive collection of books in the family library. 
   
  In 1868 at age 19, she was published ‘Jenny Garrow's Lovers’ in the Atlantic Monthly, and from this grew a reputation that was lauded and admired by both her captivated audience and such other noted writers as William Dean Howells.   
   
  As well as novels and short stories she also wrote children’s books and poetry volumes.  Jewett was also admired for the strong female characters who were as intelligent and able as any man around them. 
   
  In her personal life Jewett was attracted and attached to several women.  Many of her poems reveal the intensity of her feelings towards them. Whether Jewett found physical love with them is open to debate but she often did find devoted and loving friendship, humor and literary encouragement.  From 1881, after the death of James Fields, the editor of the Atlantic Monthly, she set up home with his widow, Annie, for the rest of her life in what was termed ‘a Boston Marriage’; the cohabitation of two wealthy women, independent of male financial support.   
   
  On her birthday in 1902, Jewett was involved in a carriage accident that effectively ended her literary career.   
   
  In March 1909 Sarah Orne Jewett was paralyzed by a stroke, and after another on 24th June she died in her South Berwick home.  She was 59.

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  Cursed Portrait The: Book...

  Hazel Quinn

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  This content is an independent and unofficial summary created for informational and educational purposes only. It is not affiliated with, authorized, approved, licensed, or endorsed by the original author or publisher. All rights to the original work belong to its respective copyright holders. This summary is not intended to substitute the original book, but to offer a concise overview and interpretation of its main ideas.
   
  
  
   
  Step into the unsettling world of The Cursed Portrait, an audiobook that invites you to confront the dark power hidden within a single frame. Through rich storytelling and haunting soundscapes, you’ll:
  
   
  Uncover the ominous legend of a painting said to trap the very souls of those who gaze too long into its eyes.
  
   
  Witness subtle shifts in the portrait’s expression—each nuance revealing deeper layers of dread and hidden sorrow.
  
   
  Follow a trail of cryptic letters and whispered warnings that link the artwork to a string of inexplicable vanishings.
  
   
  Navigate the thin veil between reality and nightmare as spectral figures emerge from the canvas to haunt the living.

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  The Ghost Writer - A The...

  Rachel Lawson

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  The ghost of Dick Turpin meets a man in the forest and follows him home. Becoming a tech expert and ghost writer posing as the man. Although the man doesn't know this is a crossover story with characters from my The Magicians series guest starring. 
  "Dick do you know why Amazon, Redbubble, Audible, and someone called Zazzle are paying me?" asked James one day suspecting it had to do with him. 
  "I wrote a book," said Turpin. 
  "You wrote a book?" said James. 
  "It's selling on Amazon and Audible, and I promote my work on Redbubble and Zazzle," said Turpin. 
  "Why am I being paid by them?" said James 
  "I used your details and name to sign up and as a name. I couldn't sell without real details what would people say if I said I was a ghostwriter!" said Turpin. 
  "You lousy identity thief!" grumbled James "Great I'm being haunted by a computer genius from before computers." 
  "Thief I'm paying you!" said Turpin. 
  "I thought Audible needed real voices to be eligible to have your work put on Audible?" said James. 
  "I read the book on to the computer as John Palmer," said Turpin. 
  "How? I thought I was the only person who could hear you?" said James. 
  "I did an E V P," Turpin said. 
  "A what?" asked James. 
  "Electronic Voice Phenomena or a ghost audio recording! Ghosts can be recorded with a microphone, so I read it." Turpin said. 
  "So you are haunting Audible now, are you?" James said. 
  "And YouTube, iTunes, and Soundcloud, among other things if you put it like that?" said Turpin exasperated. 
  "What am I supposed to have written!" asked James. 
  If want to hear more get the full story.

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  Gothic Poems

  Rachel Lawson

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  The Ravens 
  A flock of ravens floats upon the air over their prey, 
  Like a looming black storm cloud of gloom, 
  In the later hours of the death of the day, 
  They fight each other for room, 
  In the melee, one is injured it falls, 
  Blood and gore fill the air, 
  The air is filled with their dire calls, 
  Little did the observers of this carnage care, 
  To them, it was merely a display of the nature of the raven, 
  Upon the hour they fled, 
  They were neither crazed nor craven, 
  They were happy and well-fed.

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