The Haunting of Emily Grace by Elena Taylor ~ #Suspense #Paranormal #Horror ~ @Elena_TaylorAut @partnersincr1me

THE HAUNTING OF EMILY GRACE

by Elena Taylor

May 25 - June 19, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

About the Book:

An eerie suspense novel, in which a grieving woman takes a job at an isolated mansion only to become wrapped up in the curse that seems to have befallen its eccentric owner.

Emily Grace has endured the worst loss imaginable. But can she survive a remote manor haunted by more than just memories . . .?

Drowning in grief, Emily Grace has lost everything: her home, her friends, her career. Only one lifeline remains—a job working for an eccentric millionaire. Along with his wife, he’s been building a mansion on a secluded island surrounded by a harsh and unforgiving sea. But when she disappears under mysterious circumstances, Emily Grace is hired to finish the project.

Locals believe the house is cursed, but their warnings go unheeded as Emily Grace works to rebuild her life. After what she’s been through, nothing can scare her—except perhaps the attention of a handsome man offering more than friendship. And yet, there’s something strange about this solitary fortress. Accidents. Mishaps. Ghostly whispers through the surrounding forest, footsteps when she’s completely alone . . .

Is there truly a curse or is the ethereal specter in the window an omen of something more sinister?

This spooky standalone from phenomenal crime author Elena Taylor will have readers sleeping with the light on for weeks! With vibes of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, fans of Riley Sager and thrillers with light horror elements will love The Haunting of Emily Grace!

NOW IN PAPERBACK!

Praise for The Haunting of Emily Grace:

"Taylor doesn’t just conjure suspense—she dissects it, peeling back the fragile layers of identity, memory, and trust until nothing feels safe. The Haunting of Emily Grace is deeply unsettling in all the best ways."
~ Carter Wilson, bestselling author of Tell Me What You Did

"Beautifully evocative and atmospheric, The Haunting of Emily Grace is a one-sitting read. I couldn't put it down."
~ Lisa Hall, bestselling author of suspense

"gut-tightening suspense"
~ Edward J Leahy, author of the Dan Brady and Kim Brady mysteries

Watch the The Haunting of Emily Grace BookTrailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Suspense with a touch of light paranormal/horror
Published by: Severn House
Publication Date: May 21, 2026
Number of Pages: 288 pages
ISBN: 9781448318889 (ISBN10: 1448318882), Paperback
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Severn House

Read an Excerpt:

ONE

Over the Water

Grief is a scab that I can’t stop picking at, no matter how hard I try. It pokes at me now as I sit in my truck on the deserted ferry dock, surrounded by dense morning fog and waiting for the boat to take me across an expanse of dark water to a house rumored to be cursed.

My fingers trace a photograph taped to my dashboard. My hand trembles, likely from an empty stomach or sleeplessness, as both are constant companions. But I outline the beloved face, forever frozen, like a precious object in amber. Lost to me in the real world, calling to me from the next.

The ferry slides into the dock in front of me with a bump against the pilings. A lone figure moves across the empty deck, while an old, grizzled seaman stays inside the tiny wheelhouse. One captain and one first mate.

Tying the ferry off with ropes thicker than my arm, the mate’s actions are practiced and steady. He lowers a ramp and waves me forward. Ever so slowly, I roll across the water, fighting against holding my breath—the superstition I’ve clung to my entire life every time I cross a bridge. The thirty-minute sail to Salish Island, and tiny Monk’s Rock where my new job awaits, won’t allow me the indulgence, so I might as well continue to breathe despite my need to cling to anything, even a silly belief, to keep me safe.

After parking the truck as the mate directs, I wait as he shoves bright orange chock blocks around all four wheels, as if, without a barrier, my vehicle might drive itself into the sea.

I open my door a crack; our eyes meet. “Can I get out?”

“Of course.”

The first mate is rugged, with an air of confidence like he’d be good in a crisis. Smooth skin on his cheeks. Bright, inquisitive eyes. Broad shoulders visible under the bulky uniform of dark green waterproof overalls and a yellow slicker.

He holds out his hand as I step out. “Careful. Parts of the deck can be slippery when it’s this wet.”

Electricity flies between our fingers, and I pull away as if he poses a threat. I don’t want to feel desire. Intimacy is dangerous. But what does it mean that I’m looking at men again?

He gives me an odd look. “We’ll be underway in a few minutes.” He walks back to the ramp, where two men unload a battered white cargo van. The three of them quickly stack boxes to one side, lashing them in place. No doubt provisions for an island that’s home to five hundred hearty souls—and me. At least for the time it takes to complete the finish carpentry in one enormous house.

I’d once been a very good carpenter. Before my life exploded into hospitals and medical visits, overwhelming helplessness and all the endless paperwork connected to dying. Since then, I’ve done a poor job of putting myself back together. The rough pieces of grownup life refusing to fit a new pattern now that I’m alone.

My mentor Bill Thomlinson had started this project less than a week ago but fell and broke his leg in multiple places. After he came through the surgery, metal pins in place, he convinced the homeowner to take a chance on me.

“You need this,” he said to me over the phone, his voice surprisingly strong for someone coming out of anesthesia. “I’m done watching you flail. This job can save you. Don’t let me down.”

Now I stand on the deck of a private ferry while the engines roar out a steady vibration under my feet, and wonder if I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Crossing to the rail, I pin my eyes where the horizon must lie out beyond the mist. Clouds above and waves below. Indistinguishable from each other because of the heavy air, thick like smoke. My stomach lurches at the thought of everything that swims underneath my feet and the unknown depth of the sea.

Breathe in . . . breathe out . . . focus on the future. Focus on the work.

All I know about the job ahead of me is that the original carpenter vanished, forcing the owner, Cameron Lang, to bring in someone else, but then Bill ended up with pins in his leg. Given that I haven’t slept in so long that I shouldn’t be trusted with power tools, I hope that whatever the curse is, it doesn’t come in threes.

When I feel like I’m losing my mind, it helps to ground myself with something physical, so I grip the hard, cold rail in my hands. No matter how much ending my life is a viable choice, some small part of me refuses to let death win again.

The fog brightens, and we cross a physical line in space, plunging into a blue so pure it hurts my eyes. I gasp and grip even tighter as the sky separates from the water, which now spreads out below me in an endless black void.

“Not quite got your sea legs?” The first mate watches me with barely disguised curiosity.

Salt spray traces tears down my cheeks. I must look like I’m crying. “I didn’t expect to come out of the fog so abruptly.”

“It does that sometimes. Now you see it, now you don’t. No matter how often we sail through a bank, it always feels like magic.”

“I can imagine.”

He lingers nearby. Maybe there’s little to do once the ferry is underway. Although small talk is beyond my ability, part of me longs to hear his voice again, even if I say things that sound insane.

The temperature drops as we head further out to sea.

We’re soon dodging between uninhabited land masses. “Some of these islands are so low they disappear in high tide.” He gestures to the slopes of land. Rocky outcroppings just under the surface. Dangerous, like unexploded mines in the sand.

Panic rises. The water below us taunts me—my troubles will be over if I simply fall into a watery grave. The voice becomes louder and more insistent that I should do something I can’t take back. To keep my mind off the words in my head, my eyes search for the defiant piece of US rock thrusting out of Canadian waters. If I can make it back to dry land, I can get through another day.

“That’s what you’re looking for.” The first mate’s breath tickles my ear as he comes closer, speaking over the hum of the engines, the slap of water on the hull, and the cry of seagulls. My gaze follows his arm to the far-off outline of Salish Island, where Monk’s Rock perches off the northern-most end, tethered to each other by the narrowest of bridges.

“Take this.” He presses a business card into my hand. “Just in case.” Under his name is a single word, handyman, and a phone number.

“Adrian Han?” I look up, his eyes capturing mine. “I thought you were the first mate.”

“I’m a lot of things.” His words are casual, but something reflects in his expression, an emotion I can’t put my finger on.

“You might realize at some point there’s a project you need help with. Nothing against your skills. Everyone needs another set of hands once in a while.”

“I have a helper.”

“Chuck, yeah. I’ve worked with him before.” His tone is carefully neutral.

My new boss made the arrangements for Chuck to help me with anything that requires two people. Am I going to regret his choice?

“How do you know why I’m here?”

Adrian’s carefree expression returns. “Emily Grace Turner. Carpenter. Here to finish the End of the World.”

It’s a jolt that he knows anything about me when I’ve worked so hard to become invisible. He reads me again, and his tone turns reassuring. “It’s a small town—people talk.” He gestures toward the wood rack that fits over my camper shell and the bumper sticker: Proud Member of the Carpenter’s Union. “Plus, your name was on your ferry registration.”

I chuckle for thinking his words are sinister until a darker emotion, one that looks like fear, crosses his face. “That house—” His lips purse as if he holds something back. “Just call if you need help. Anytime.”

The island takes clearer shape, and Adrian returns to the wheelhouse, his absence palpable, as if a physical hole remains in the air after he’s gone.

He’s taken his fear with him, except for the small part he’s left behind with me.

***

Excerpt from The Haunting of Emily Grace by Elena Taylor. Copyright 2025 by Elena Taylor. Reproduced with permission from Elena Taylor. All rights reserved.

 

 

Meet the Author:

Elena Taylor spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to novels. Her first series, the Eddie Shoes Mysteries, written under Elena Hartwell, introduced a quirky mother/daughter crime fighting duo.

With the Sheriff Bet Rivers Mysteries, Elena returned to her dramatic roots to bring readers more serious and atmospheric novels. Located in her beloved Washington State, Elena uses her connection to the environment to produce tense and suspenseful investigations for a lone sheriff in an isolated community. The third in the series, Kill to Keep, launches summer 2026.

The Haunting of Emily Grace is Elena’s first standalone suspense novel.

Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she lives on south of Spokane, Washington, with her equines, dogs, cats, and hubby.

Catch Up With Elena Taylor:

www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com
TheMysteryOfWriting.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @ElenaTaylorAuthor
Instagram - @ElenaTaylorAuthor
X - @Elena_TaylorAut
Facebook - @ElenaTaylorAuthor

 

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

Enter Where Secrets Whisper and Shadows Linger...

This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Elena Taylor. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

THE HAUNTING OF EMILY GRACE by Elena Taylor | Gift Card & Book

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

This post contains affiliate links.

If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you.

Thank you for supporting Sapphyria’s Books.

Ghostly Returns (Ghostly Howls, Book Two) by Stephanie Hansen ~ #Horror #Romance

Ghostly Returns 

Ghostly Howls 

Book Two

Stephanie Hansen

Genre: Horror Romance

Publisher: Hypothesis Books

Date of Publication: 2/10/26

ISBN: 979-8245440408

ASIN: B0FSXRJLYY

Number of pages: 113 (novella)

Word Count: 25,000

Cover Artist: Miblart

Tagline: Irish Folklore meets Small Town US

About the Book: 

Strange visitors have appeared in Ethel, their clothes and mannerisms jarring against the familiar rhythm of the coastal town. The woman in Orla and Dave's spare room speaks in archaic phrases and marvels at electric lights, while the silent man staying with Molly and Cormac carries a translucent device that glows with symbols no one recognizes.

As fog rolls in from the sea, bringing with it the now-familiar whispers and cold spots that signal another haunting, the four friends realize they must unravel the temporal mystery before them. The clock tower strikes at midnight, and both past and future hang in the balance.

*Contains mature themes, open door sex scenes, and mature language.

Purchase Links:

Books2Read      Amazon      BN     Apple       Kobo

Read an Excerpt:

Three years ago, the small town of Ethel, VA, was rocked to its core when the lighthouse became a beacon for something an-cient and hungry. Every year since then, we’ve cast a protection spell, tying knots in rope while visualizing a protective shield, at the weathered tower a week before Samhain, our voices car-ried away by the salt-tinged wind. This year’s no different.

Cormac’s slender fingers intertwine with mine as we ap-proach Orla and Dave across the grassy shoreline. We’ve man-aged to mostly heal from the toxic tendencies of the past—the jealousy, the competition, the midnight arguments that left scorch marks on the walls. Magical abilities complementing each other have a tendency to do that, like puzzle pieces finally finding their fit.

The mid-October sunlight glints off Cormac’s long, blonde hair, turning each strand into spun gold against the blue sky. We don’t meet here at night anymore, not since the shadows began to move independently of their owners. She gently squeezes my hand in reassurance, slight crow’s feet crinkling around her eyes with a smile that blooms one of my own in return. She tries to continue her broody exterior by wearing a scuffed leather jacket with silver buckles, but her face is too full of light these days to continue the façade.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Orla says as she wraps me in a hug, her dark curls tickling my cheek. Her automatic soul-possessing ability takes hold straight away, a warm honey-like sensation flooding through my veins. I feel her anxiety—sharp and metallic—and she feels mine. While hers is about the treacherous events three years ago, mine is about the small vel-vet box burning a hole in my pocket, holding a moonstone ring for Cormac.

I know she’ll say yes; I hear Orla’s thoughts echo in my mind like a whisper in an empty room. To assuage her anxiety, I push forward images of Cormac and me from earlier in the morning. We’d stayed in bed, all consumed with passionate kisses and bodies moving in rhythmic dance together; sheets twisted around our ankles, the taste of her still on my lips.

Okay, okay, you’re excused for being late, Orla sends through the connection, her mental voice tinged with amuse-ment. Then it’s gone as Dave, tall and broad-shouldered in his flannel-lined jacket, gently pulls her out of the hug. He com-plements her power as Cormac complements mine, his deep voice carrying over the crash of waves against the shore.

“Did you actually expect them to be on time?” he asks her, his breath visible in the chilly air.

Orla looks at me, her eyes sparkling, and we snicker like schoolgirls sharing a secret.

“Some of us know how to keep a woman in bed,” I goad Dave, watching his cheeks flush crimson.

Before he can respond, Cormac says, “Guys, I think you should come over here,” her voice tight with tension.

She’s rounding the other side of the lighthouse, her boots crunching on the path. I jog over to her, worried she might be in danger, the wind whipping my hair across my face. Once I’m next to her, I’m struck with frozen terror, my breath catching in my throat. As Orla and Dave’s footsteps catch up, I try to count the sleeping bodies sprinkled around the remnants of a bonfire.

Sprawled across the damp autumn ground lies a peculiar as-sembly of slumbering figures—some adorned in woolen cloaks and flowing medieval gowns; others draped in shimmering flapper dresses and tweed vests and flat caps. The incongruous sight sends a chill down my spine, conjuring memories of that haunted night years ago when phantoms in pheasant feathers and tarnished armor materialized from the mist. Could history be repeating itself? I draw Cormac closer, my fingers tightening protectively around her shoulder. A bitter wind sweeps through the clearing, rustling crimson leaves and stirring the strange visitors from their dreams.

“Oh, halloo,” calls a woman with cascading silver-streaked hair that catches the morning light. Deep laugh lines frame her eyes as she rises gracefully to her feet, brushing debris from her embroidered skirts. Her button nose crinkles above heart-shaped lips as she smiles warmly. “I’m Marie. We weren’t expecting anyone so early.”

“You’re days early for Samhain,” Orla informs her, her voice carrying across the clearing.

“Samhain!” exclaims a younger woman with stylish curls and bright eyes. She leaps up, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm, silver bracelets jingling at her wrists. “I’m Florian. I absolutely adore a proper shindig.”

Another woman glides forward, her tweed vest firmly hug-ging her body. She loops her arm possessively around Florian’s slender waist and extends her other hand, adorned with bangles that glint in the early light. “Kiersten,” she offers, her voice me-lodic but guarded.

“Molly, and this is Cormac,” I reply, mirroring Kiersten’s protective gesture by drawing Cormac against my side, feeling her warmth through her leather jacket.

“Might there be lodgings available in your village?” Marie inquires, her eyes scanning the distant rooftops visible through the thinning trees.

“Not anywhere that could accommodate a gathering of this size,” Dave responds, his weathered hands resting on his leather belt.

A tall woman with anxious eyes approaches Orla hesitantly. A man with sandy blond hair clutches her trembling arm as she nervously smooths out her skirt. Dave and I don’t miss her flinch with his touch, juxtaposing their closeness. It resurfaces memories from when Dave and Orla couldn’t touch. “Hello, I’m Claudia,” she murmurs, “and may I present Alex?” Her delicate fingers twist together nervously while Alex soothingly rubs her goosebump-covered arms.

“Orla and Dave,” Dave announces, nodding curtly. When Alex extends his hand to Orla, Dave intercedes and shakes his hand, so Orla doesn’t have to.

“Um, Orla,” Alex interjects, his deep voice surprisingly gen-tle. “Pardon our intrusion, but might Claudia ask you something rather personal?”

“Of course, what troubles you?” Orla asks, leaning forward with interest.

“Do you perceive others’ thoughts when you make physical contact?” Claudia whispers, her pale cheeks blooming with a rosy flush that spreads to the tips of her ears.

“Perhaps we should escort this assemblage to our home-stead,” Dave interrupts, clearing his throat. “We have several spare rooms. Not sufficient for everyone, but certainly prefera-ble to camping outside.”

“We’d be eternally grateful,” Marie responds, casting a con-cerned sideways glance at Claudia’s distressed expression. “A proper rest would benefit us tremendously after our... unusual journey.”

Meet the Author:

Stephanie Hansen is a PenCraft and Global Book Award Winning Author as well as an Imadjinn finalist. Her debut novella series, Altered Helix, released in 2020. It hit the #1 New Release, #1 Best Seller, and other top 100 lists on Amazon. It is now being adapted to an animated story for Tales. Her debut novel, Replaced Parts, released in 2021 through Fire & Ice YA and Tantor Audio. It has been in a Forbes article, hit Amazon bestseller lists, and made the Apple young adult coming soon bestsellers list. The second book in the Transformed Nexus series, Omitted Pieces, released in 2022. Her debut spicy paranormal romance, Ghostly Howls, released 2023. Her debut historical magical realism, Armored Hours, released 2024. The Armored Hours sequel, Guarded Time, released 2025 and the Ghostly Howls sequel, Ghostly Returns, released 2026. She is a member of the deaf and hard of hearing community, so she tries to incorporate that into her fiction.

https://www.authorstephaniehansen.com/

https://www.facebook.com/writer.stephaniehansen/

https://www.tiktok.com/@stephaniehansenauthor

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/stephanie-hansen

https://www.instagram.com/stephaniehansenauthor/

https://www.pinterest.com/writershansen/

https://www.goodreads.com/writerstephaniehansen

This post contains affiliate links.

If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you.

Thank you for supporting Sapphyria’s Books.

Six and Twisted by D. Thomas Jerlo, David Boiani, Jenna Greene, Simon Parker, Phil Thomas, Char Baker ~ #Horror #SpeculativeFiction

Six and Twisted

D. Thomas Jerlo, David Boiani, Jenna Greene,

Simon Parker, Phil Thomas, Char Baker

Genre: Horror / Speculative Fiction

Publisher: Vitality House

Date of Publication: Feb.2.2026

ISBN-13: ‎ 978-1970504002

ISBN-10: ‎ 1970504005

ASIN:  B0GL3ND4CR

Number of pages: 360 Paperback

Cover Artist: Dawné Dominique / DusktilDawn Designs

Tagline: Six macabre, supernatural, fanatical, and dystopian tales all brought to you by the minds of six brilliant authors, each bringing their version of spellbinding storytelling in one anthology. Prepare to be fascinated by their unique perspectives, as they weave intricate stories that blur the lines between reality and the surreal.

About the Book:  

Six visions of horror, each more unsettling than the last.

In Something Neighborly by D. Thomas Jerlo, a gremlin’s mischievous tricks twist everyday life into a nightmare.

In The Breezy Ridge Inn by David Boiani, an idyllic Vermont getaway hides sinister secrets behind its prayers.

In Consumed by Jenna Greene, the tolling of bells marks the countdown to sacrifice in a dystopian world.

In The Year of the Dead by Simon Parker, one man faces his last Christmas as humanity falls to the plague of the undead.

In The Clairvoyant Connection by Phil Thomas, a psychic on the 1986 boardwalk foresees a death she cannot stop.

And in Fortune Favours by Char Baker, a team of supernatural agents uncovers a deadly conspiracy of demons, shapeshifters, and betrayal.

Together, these stories explore mischief, faith, fate, and apocalypse — six doors into terror, each waiting for you to step through.

Purchase Links:

Amazon.ca     Amazon

This post contains affiliate links.

If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you.

Thank you for supporting Sapphyria’s Books.

The Route 9 Killer by Kelli A. Wilkins ~ #Horror ~ @KWilkinsauthor ~ Celebrate Women in Horror Month

 

Celebrate Women in Horror Month with The Route 9 Stalker

A NEW Release from Kelli A. Wilkins

www.KelliWilkins.com

 

Hi everyone!

February is “Women in Horror” month, and to celebrate, I’m sharing a look at my new release, The Route 9 Stalker. It’s technically a mystery/thriller, but it has a strong horror element built into the plot. And how could a story about a serial killer not be scary?

The Route 9 Stalker is a follow-up (of sorts) to The Route 9 Killer and follows Detective Jim Rourke on a disturbing new case. Although the books share two main characters, each stands alone as an individual read, and you can read them in any order.

Here is the book summary:                                                               

The Route 9 Stalker

(A Mystery/Thriller)

It started with a body in the woods — and turned into a hunt for a deranged stalker.

Late one evening, Megan Graystone enters a police station and reports that she witnessed a man dumping a woman’s body in the woods.

But with no concrete proof and no sign of foul play, Detective Jim Rourke dismisses her story — until a woman’s mutilated body is found close by. As Rourke investigates the victim’s past, he learns that she was being stalked by a mysterious stranger — and so were several other murdered women.

Rourke discovers that the elusive stalker is playing a twisted game; changing identities and vanishing after each murder. With no other option, Rourke enlists Megan Graystone’s help to trap the stalker — although it means putting her in grave danger.

Can Rourke stop the stalker before he kills and disappears again?

Order your copy here:

Amazon

Other Platforms

Want more? Meet Detective Jim Rourke for the first time in The Route 9 Killer. Read the book summary and reviews here: https://www.kelliwilkins.com/the-route-9-killer

***

When I wrote The Route 9 Killer, I didn’t know I would eventually write another book featuring Detective Rourke. But one day I was looking through my folder of ideas for stories I might write “someday” and came across a simple premise: A woman sees a man dumping a body in the woods, and the killer comes after her. I thought about it for a while and began to toy with ways to expand the idea.

I started wondering: What if this wasn’t this guy’s first kill? Who are the women he has killed? Why is he killing them? How does he find his victims? I started piecing the story together in my head and thought of ways I could bring Detective Rourke onto the case.

Three years after the events that took place in The Route 9 Killer, Detective Jim Rourke has finally put the unwanted publicity from that case behind him, and he never wants to hear about serial killers again.

However, fate has delivered him a woman’s mutilated body—the same body Megan claimed to have seen in the woods. When Rourke’s fellow Detective Ed Dolenz uncovers similar cold cases, Rourke finds himself hunting another serial killer. He learns that a man is stalking and viciously murdering women he meets on dating sites. Rourke and Dolenz are able to link the killings to a mysterious man who switches identities and vanishes after each murder.

Is the man Megan saw in the woods connected to the murders? Rourke thinks he might be, and he needs Megan’s help catching him. But Dolenz theorizes that there might be more than one killer…

When I plotted the book, I decided Megan would be a focal point of the story, and she plays a central role in helping Rourke catch the killer. Right from the start, readers see that Megan isn’t a big fan of the police, and she’s cautious when dealing with strangers. Although she knows she’s potentially the target of a serial killer, she isn’t frightened off. Why? Because she’s a lifelong horror movie fan and she follows “the rules” of staying alive and defending herself against predators.

I intentionally played up the theme of “protecting yourself” in the book. As a single woman living alone, Megan fits the profile of the killer’s victims, but she’s smart and has a no-nonsense attitude when it comes to her personal safety and boundaries. Some of that comes from mocking horror movie heroines who make bad choices, but a lot of it comes from her relationship with her best friend, Lori.

Throughout the book, whenever something disturbing or strange happens, Megan talks to her friend Lori. This gives readers a break from Rourke’s investigation, and readers can see what seemingly innocent interactions Megan has with people turn out to be vital to the case.

Lori acts as a sounding board for Megan’s concerns (or lack thereof) and Lori cautions her to be careful since “Rourke is using her as bait for a serial killer.” Megan keeps reassuring everyone that she’ll be okay and she can handle things. But can she?

Everyone isn’t who (or what) they seem in this story, and without giving away any plot details or spoilers, I can say that Rourke, Megan, and the killer come together in the end, and the story packs a great twist ending.

I loved writing this book, and I incorporated a bit of myself into the plot. As a lifelong horror movie fan (and someone who loves Halloween), I decided to have the entire story take place the week before Halloween. It added an element of surprise to the ending and helped build suspense. (And yes, my best friend is named Lori. She thought the book was great, by the way!)

I hope you will add both Route 9 books to your 2026 reading list. Readers have asked me if I’m going to give Detective Rourke one more case to solve and complete a trilogy. I’ve been considering it… What do you think?

If you love horror and are celebrating all things scary this month, visit the Horror, Mystery & More page on my site: https://www.kelliwilkins.com/horror to read about all of my spooky stories!

Until next time…

Happy Reading!

Kelli A. Wilkins

 

Meet the Author:

Kelli A. Wilkins is an award-winning author who has published more than 100 short stories, 24 romance novels, and 9 mystery/thriller/horror ebooks. Her romances span many genres and settings, and she likes to scare readers with her horror, mystery, and thriller fiction.

Her latest book, The Route 9 Stalker, was published in January 2026. This mystery/thriller is set in Central NJ and follows Detective Jim Rourke on a disturbing new case. Meet him for the first time in The Route 9 Killer.

Kelli’s 24th romance, For Love’s Sake, an epic historical/fantasy romantic adventure, was published in 2025.​

In 2024, she released Surreal Escapes, a collection of 7 speculative/spooky stories. Anything can—and does—happen in this anthology.

Follow Kelli on her Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKelliWilkins and visit her website/blog www.KelliWilkins.com for a full title list, social media links, and more.

This post contains affiliate links.

If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you.

Thank you for supporting Sapphyria’s Books.

Out Now! The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre by Philip Fracassi ~ #Horror #Suspense

 

Rose DuBois is not your average final girl.

About the Book:

Rose is in her late 70s, living out her golden years at the Autumn Springs Retirement Home.

When one of her friends dies alone in her apartment, Rose isn’t too concerned. Accidents happen, especially at this age! Then another resident drops dead. And another. With bodies stacking up, Rose can’t help but wonder: are these accidents? Old age? Or something far more sinister?

Together with her best friend Miller, Rose begins to investigate. The further she digs, the more convinced she becomes: there’s a killer on the loose at Autumn Springs, and if she isn’t careful, Rose may be their next victim.

Praise for The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre:

“Rose isn’t your average final girl. She’s a woman and a survivor who you’ll cheer for every  step of the way in this smart, fast-paced slasher.” 

—Erika T. Wurth, author of White Horse and The Haunting of Room 904

“A wholly original slasher novel with a uniquely strong and vulnerable heroine...Fans of the genre should put this on their must-read list.” 

—Christina Henry, author of Alice and The Place Where They Buried Your Heart

“Autumn Springs is packed full of characters that you can’t help falling in love with, just as their  bodies start hitting the floor. Fracassi sticks the knife in your heart and twists it. A tear-stained  blood-soaked slasher for the ages.” 

—Brian McAuley, author of Breathe In, Bleed Out and Curse of the Reaper 

Book Details:

Publisher: Tor Nightfire

Hardcover: 9781250879066

Audio: 9781250417879

E-book: 9781250879073

Page Count: 416

Purchase Link:

Amazon

Meet the Author:

PHILIP FRACASSI is the Bram Stoker Award-nominated author of the story collections Behold the Void and Beneath a Pale Sky. His novels include A Child Alone with Strangers, Gothic, and Boys in the Valley. His stories have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies, including Best Horror of the Year, Nightmare Magazine, Southwest Review, Interzone, and Black Static. Philip lives in Los Angeles. 

The Fear Driver ~ Compiled by Dragon Soul Press ~ C. L. Hart ~ @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #TheFearDriver #Horror #Anthology

The Fear Driver 

Dragon Soul Press Anthology

Horror (various subgenres)

Date Published: September 23, 2025

 

About the Anthology:

 Bite-sized horror stories are brought to you by twenty-five authors. From creepy crawlies to the seemingly normal pets. From hideous monsters lurking in the dark to charismatic people showing their true colors.

Each tale is precisely 100 words and leaves a long-lasting chilling effect. Some will make you question the security of the world around you, and what's more terrifying than that?

Featuring drabbles by the following authors: Bernardo Villela, K.J. Watson, David J. Vowell, Joshua Ginsberg, A.L. Smith, Petina Strohmer, Zari Hunt, Paul Burgess, Diana Parrilla, Angel Zapata, Vanessa Bane, Marc Sorondo, Jacek Wilkos, Arvee Fantilagan, Jodie Francis, Alex Azar, Andreas Flögel, Jade Kalb, Andrew Buckner, Ken Whitson, Jãnis Bogužs, Andrea Tillmanns, C.L. Hart, S.F.J. Painter, Monica Wenzel, Dragan Ivanović, and J.E. Feldman.

Read an Excerpt:

One Moonlit Night

Copyright 2025 by C. L. Hart

As fourteen-year-old Nevil Teodoro climbed down the trellis near his bedroom window, a blood-curdling scream pierced the darkness, startling him so badly that he nearly fell. Juan Soto, the head groundskeeper, ran up from the gardens, his clothes covered in mud and his face pale as the moon.

“What’s goin’ on, Ese?” Nevil asked as he finished his descent. “You look like you seen a ghost!”

“Get back in the house, Chico, and call Mama Cecilia.”

“You trippin’, Juan Solo? You want me to call una bruja vieja and not la policia?”

“Ain’t no policia can stop a moon vampire!”

 

About the Author:

C. L. Hart is an editor who writes or a writer who edits. She primarily pens dark fantasy (often Lovecraftian) and sweet romance. She resides in a tiny town on the Northeastern Colorado plains with her adult son, her cat daughter, and her cat grandson. When not editing, writing, or rehabilitating eldritch horrors, she enjoys coloring, crafts, and cooking things that she hopes will be palatable to someone besides the eldritch horrors.

Visit C. L. Hart

Preorder Today

Amazon

This post contains affiliate links.

If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you.

Thank you for supporting Sapphyria’s Books.

Lakegrave School for Young Women by Lauren Carter ~ Horror, Dark Academia, Historical Fiction ~ @writerlcarter

Lakegrave School for Young Women

Lauren Carter

Genre: Horror, Dark Academia, Historical Fiction

Date of Publication: 9th September 2025

ISBN: 9781739376444 

ASIN: B0F74BRMC3

Number of pages: 237

Word Count: 54k words

Cover Artist: Grim Poppy Designs

Tagline: Lakegrave is unlike any other school

About the Book: 

Here, we do not care where you are from or who you are. We care that you are women. And we care about your minds. 

Lakegrave is unlike any other school. Hidden in the mountains of Scotland, it only accepts one bright woman per specialist subject. With no teachers and no curriculum, the self-taught establishment offers its students the tools to expand their skillsets to then go onto being masters in their fields.

When Raven and her cousin Rowan are accepted, they are excited to refine their crafts and converse with fellow classmates.

That is until students go missing.

Some come back but they are not as they once were. Something is off about them. 

Something is misplaced.

So when fellow student Esme wants to investigate and invites Raven to join, they uncover that there’s much more to the school than they thought with chilling secrets kept tucked away in its history. But with ghosts stirring and the cohort decreasing, will any of them make it to graduation?

Purchase from Amazon

 

Read an Excerpt:

There isn’t much known about Lakegrave School for Young Women due to its remote location and it being a new school, but it is the only school in the world known for its unique education style—it’s completely self-taught. There are no teachers, just one headmistress. The school only invites the best and brightest women from across the globe to study there for one year before being scouted to go on to their dream careers. This didn’t mean smart in absolutely everything but a genius in our own field.

That is the other unique thing—it also only invites one person per specialist subject.

That’s why Rowan and I were lucky enough to be accepted. Rowan is only just old enough to attend at one and twenty years of age; I, on the other hand, have two years on her. Luck was also on our side when we were encouraged to pursue different hobbies instead of the same, otherwise we wouldn’t have been accepted concurrently.

Leading up to the school, I can only make out the tops of the building as the hedge has overgrown so much. It’s as if the place has been neglected over the summer, if not over the years. Such an odd notion for a new educational establishment but, then again, it was something else before.

I reach the main gate and see a crest at the top. In the middle, there is a sprig of lavender and on each side of the shield are bees facing inward. This looks like it’s been cleaned recently.

Couldn’t say the same for the rest of the gate.

It looks like it once was black, but it is brown now due to the rust. I don’t want to touch it, so I nudge it open with my elbow and shut it again once I’m in.

It’s called a school, but it would be better off compared to a castle, just like every other boarding school that exists. The windows stretch tall and look like they are modelled after a church. Although it is a fairly new build, its appearance is like it has been designed as old-fashioned on purpose, fitting in with something from the 1600s rather than the 1800s. And it almost looks like it’s falling apart, the brickwork cracked and turning the walls into a darker colour rather than its usual sand. It is preposterously big for a school that doesn’t admit too many students. There is definitely some sort of beauty to the building but for some reason, even in the daytime, it appears a little ominous—as if the place is lifeless. It seems as though the garden has overtaken everything as greenery and moss is growing alongside the building. To the west of the school there are some greenhouses and to the east of the school is a church.

The ground crunches as I walk up to the building. There is a huge fountain which is bordered by the driveway on either side but appears not to work, and a huge statue coming out from the middle of it. I’m not that knowledgeable about Greek gods but I know it’s Aphrodite.

It seems fitting to have her standing guard over us.

I pause by the front door, already hearing voices coming from within, so I grip my violin case tighter and push the double doors inwards—letting them shut me away for the next year.

About the Author: 

Lauren (she/they) is a library assistant by day and writer by night. She is the author of WHEN THE DEMONS TAKE HOLD and YOUR DARLING DEATH. She has published several short stories including: ALIVE, JUST with The Horror Tree, THE CHILDREN OF OWL WILDS with Haunted Words Press, and THE SACRIFICES WE MAKE with Rooster Republic Press.

https://x.com/writerlcarter

https://sleekbio.com/writerlcarter

https://www.instagram.com/writerlcarter/ 

https://bsky.app/profile/writerlcarter.bsky.social

This post contains affiliate links.

If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you.

Thank you for supporting Sapphyria’s Books.

Blood (Trish Vampire Horror Series, Book One) by K.T. Rose

Blood 

Trish Vampire Horror Series 

BookOne

K.T. Rose

Genre: Thriller/ Dark Fiction/ Horror

Publisher: Kyrobooks LLC

Date of Publication: July 1, 2025

ISBN: 978-1966857006

ASIN: B0DSVNHBY8 

Number of pages: 238

Word Count: 68000

Cover Artist: Cha

Tagline: Hunger. Desperation. Terror. A mother's love knows no bounds - neither does her appetite.

About the Book:

A vampire's existence is a delicate balance between predator and pretense. For Trish, that balance includes a loving husband, an innocent son, and a trail of bloodless corpses. When her latest hunt at Miller University goes awry, leaving a witness in its wake, her carefully maintained double life begins to crumble.

Months later, Trish sets her sights on a pure-hearted professor, but his death brings unexpected consequences. Captured by the victim's vengeful cousin and her violent friends, Trish faces a harrowing choice. She must either break free to protect her family or watch her perfect life dissolve into chaos. Can she escape before her husband, Randel, discovers the true nature of the monster he married?

Blood introduces K.T. Rose's chilling vampire horror thriller series. If you're drawn to dark supernatural tales, complex characters, and blood-chilling suspense, this story of maternal instinct versus monster nature will leave you breathless.

Amazon

Books2Read

Read an Excerpt:

Chapter 1 – Chad 

Trish wasn’t a student at Miller University. In fact, she went to Radcliffe before women were allowed to take Harvard classes. No, she was at Miller with a different purpose in mind, and it had nothing to do with studying. She was sitting in some frat boy’s dorm room—Chad was his name—with her fangs deep in his wrist, sucking on his musky skin and careful to lick up the mess of blood that ran from the wound like water leaking from a faucet. She considered the meal subpar; it was a little too sweet for her taste. Chad had certainly eaten nothing but cookies and Jello shots all day, skipping protein and salt. Luckily, human blood naturally had enough protein and salt in each sip; Chad would sustain her for a month. Lightheaded and intertwined in gluttonous bliss, her body swayed with delight as she took him in.

Chad twitched at the shoulders as he lay on the extra-long twin bed, his body limp and lacking the oxygen needed for consciousness, let alone enough to put up a fight. Trish figured that he had been about twenty-one years old. He was tall enough to play sports, and his build was fair with a little weight around his middle. His face was empty of wrinkles, young and new, and his smile was pearly. Chad had taken the time to chat her up before they headed to his room. He said something about playing an instrument and liking computers. He certainly told the truth about that, judging by the black trombone case leaning against a desk with the biggest monitors she’d ever seen sitting on top of it. The room's small size—slightly larger than a walk-in closet—made the computer look enormous. She was surprised the tiny room possessed a closet. To keep the conversation going, she pretended to be intrigued as she shared some lies about herself. She couldn’t remember if she was Julie from the accounting firm or Tiffany from the dealership. It didn’t matter. Her meals’ backstories seem to run together anyway, making it hard for her to put hobbies, jobs, and names with the faces of the corpses in her wake. As she and Chad stood toe to toe at the party downstairs, the only thing she thought of was his sweaty pores; the chemical scent of alcohol still wafted from him as he lay on his bed dying. Trish hated the smell, but it signified easy prey, like most college boys, truckers, or, in desperate times, a person down on their luck left to dig through pub and restaurant dumpsters. They were all so easy to trap and drain.

Trish caressed the edges of the lacerations on Chad’s arm with her tongue, pushing his blood to flow into her mouth as the party raged on beneath her feet. The attendees roared and chanted, yelled for more beer, and demanded someone to take their shirt off. The voices were the familiar sounds of the naïve—too drunk and high on acid or pot to notice there was a monster upstairs.

Sometimes, Trish wondered if college students’ parents bothered to teach them the basics; namely, not to bring strange women into their rooms. But, no matter how thin and pale she looked in that dark dress, men always fell for her. Her lean figure and plump lips were effective bait—irresistibly mysterious, she was told. Still, when the police found their bodies, there was always mourning and a sense of loss for someone so young and talented. Someone that human society classified as potentially important. Chad believed that hype, having told her that he was working on a chemical engineering degree and minoring in music. He was so close to graduating and living that life. As he spoke, Trish pictured him getting married to some nurse, buying a house, and having kids, because that’s what humans did. But what Chad didn’t know—a tidbit that she decided to keep to herself— was that he was doomed to become an unhappy, overworked middle manager who flirted with the idea of sticking a barrel in his mouth. She’d seen many people like him over the last one hundred and thirty-seven years. Chad was a cliché; there was nothing special about his dreams because he wouldn’t live long enough to loathe them. In fact, Chad had done Trish a favor by curing her cramps and insufferable hunger pains, and for that, she was grateful.

Chad stopped jerking, and her belly was full. She slowly withdrew her fangs, allowing blood to drip onto her lap. She used one hand to get a tight grip on his arm, forming a tourniquet. There was no pulse, just as she expected. With her free hand, she pulled the pocketknife from her leather tote, which lay against her thigh.

Trish learned a long time ago that a murder could be hidden in plain sight. By the time prey was found, their bodies would bleed out from the wrist or the neck. It could be suicide. It could be murder. The police never really knew. Even though she had to leave Chad in his bed for everyone to find, she preferred getting rid of the corpse by burying it somewhere massive like the ocean, the lake, a construction site…a dump. She’d make the authorities look for months, years, decades, then wash her hands of the situation, because if they did find the body, there was no DNA—the biological code they used to match a crime with a killer.

She pulled the blade up Chad’s wrist, along her fang marks. The knife tore his skin in half and flooded the wound with his leftover liquids. His blood had gone syrupy and thick, tempting her to lick it dry. But it was close to clotting; it would taste bitter and have all the consistency of old, clumpy cottage cheese.

Trish laid Chad’s arm on his bed and considered his pale face. He was a different person from the man she made out with and strangled before she went in for the kill. His eyelids were at half-mast and he seemed peaceful.

She unclenched his fingers and dipped them into the new gash. Then she slid the knife into his palm, staging his body.

Then she listened. She listened hard and kicked herself for not doing so sooner. She didn’t think straight, or at all, when she was hungry, and Chad seemed reserved—she was sure that his room was empty and that no one knew about the woman that he allowed upstairs. He’d even locked the door behind them. During her quick survey upon entry, she didn’t see anything. As they huffed and made out, swapped tongues and giggled, she didn’t hear anything alarming. And as she subdued him and slurped his blood, she didn’t smell anyone.

But right then was the crucial time to listen and engross herself in her environment because she was done eating. It was time to leave unnoticed because anything could happen around them. Them, meaning humans. Them, meaning blood bags. Them, meaning food…

Trish heard a young girl vomiting outside, just below the window. She imagined it smelled like cheap vodka and tapas. The boys just beneath her feet slammed shots of what smelled like pure ethanol. A girl bawled her eyes out just next door as she yelled about how someone was a horrible boyfriend.

And then Trish heard heavy breathing in the closet. The hairs on her neck rose. 

About the Author:

K.T. Rose is a horror, thriller, supernatural, paranormal, and suspense author based in Detroit, Michigan. She shares her passion for spine-chilling stories with readers through flash fiction on her blog. Her works include Trinity of Horror, The Haunting of Gallagher Hotel, the Netted Series, and the Trish Vampire Horror and Serial Killer Thriller Series.

Website: https://www.kyrobooks.com/

Subscribe: https://www.kyrobooks.com/subscribe-1 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kyrobooks/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kyrobooks/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kyrobooks/

Threads: https://www.threads.com/@kyrobooks

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@KTRose-bs1ld

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B01N4T91M2

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/ktrosehorrorwriter.bsky.social

This post contains affiliate links.

If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you.

Thank you for supporting Sapphyria’s Books.