Supernatural Ghost

When Danielle Boatman inherits Marlow House, she dreams of turning it into a seaside bed and breakfast. Since she's never visited the property, Danielle's not sure what awaits her in Oregon. She certainly doesn't expect to find one of the house's previous owners still in residence. After all, the man has been dead for almost 90 years - shouldn't he have moved on by now? Charming Walt Marlow convinces Danielle the only way he can move on is if she solves the mystery of his death.

A father and daughter try to survive the steady decline of all they know in this haunting thriller from award-winning author Ronald Malfi. First the birds disappeared. Then the insects took over. Then the madness began. They call it Wanderer's Folly - a disease of delusions, of daydreams and nightmares. A plague threatening to wipe out the human race.

The Grand Hotel is a horror novel by esteemed best-selling author Scott Kenemore ( Zombie, Ohio) that takes the reader on a thrilling ride through an interconnected series of stories narrated by the desk clerk and the residents of the hotel itself. And while it is not known whether or not the desk clerk is actually the devil incarnate, it is strange that so many visitors who come for a tour of the hotel have a way of never leaving.

Eel Marsh house stands alone, surveying the windswept salt marshes beyond Nine Lives Causeway. Mrs Alice Drablow lived here as a recluse. Now Arthur Kipps, a junior solicitor with a London firm, is summoned to attend her funeral, unaware of the tragic and terrible secrets which lie behind the house's shuttered windows.

The first rule of being a ghost whisperer: Don't tell anyone. Seriously. Don't. Sure, it might sound harmless. A fun party trick, even. I assure you, it's not. How do I know? Well, let's just say that I've had a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and nine times out of 10, it turns into an all-consuming disaster.

Felix Allsey is a travel writer with a keen eye for the paranormal, and he's carved out a unique, if only slightly lucrative, niche for himself in nonfiction; he writes travelogues of the country's most haunted places, after haunting them himself. When he convinces the owner of the infamous Rotterdam Mansion to let him stay on the premises for two weeks, he believes he's finally found the location that will bring him a best seller. Then things start going wrong: screams from upstairs, figures in the thresholds, and more than what should be in any basement.

A romantic weekend at Marlow House Bed and Breakfast turns deadly when Earthbound Spirits founder, Peter Morris, is murdered. Plenty of people had a reason to want the man dead - especially Danielle's current guests. But it isn't Morris' ghost distracting Danielle on this deadly Valentine's Day weekend, it's her late husband, Lucas. She has her hands full with suitors coming from all directions - both living and dead - while she tries to figure out if there's a killer in Marlow House.

Aaron Decker's life changes one December morning when his wife, Allison, is killed. Haunted by her absence - and her ghost - Aaron goes through her belongings, where he finds a receipt for a motel room in another part of the country. Piloted by grief and an increasing sense of curiosity, Aaron embarks on a journey to discover what Allison had been doing in the weeks prior to her death.

Young widow Penelope Thornton-McClure and her old Aunt Sadie are making ends meet by managing a mystery book shop - a quaint Rhode Island landmark rumored to be haunted. Pen may not believe in ghosts, but she does believe in good publicity - like nabbing Timothy Brennan for a book signing. But soon after the bestselling thriller writer reveals a secret about the store's link to a 1940s murder, he keels over dead - and right in the middle of the store's new community events space. Who gives Mrs. McClure the first clue that it was murder?

Perhaps Danielle's first clue should have been that Hillary's muse is male. He brings with him restless spirits and murders to solve - if Danielle dares. She has already been warned to stay away.

Scarlet's spooky adventures continue in Big Ghosts Don't Cry, Book 4 of the Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery series.

Paul Gallo saw the report on the news: a mass murderer leading police to his victims' graves in remote Dread's Hand, Alaska. It's not even a town; more like the bad memory of a town. The same bit of wilderness where his twin brother went missing a year ago. As the bodies are exhumed, Paul travels to Alaska to get closure and put his grief to rest. But the mystery is only beginning. What Paul finds are superstitious locals who talk of the devil stealing souls, and a line of wooden crosses to keep what's in the woods from coming out.

When the fae beckon, few resist. Even fewer return. As a veil witch, I'm used to taking out the supernatural trash. Everything from poltergeists to vampires, you name it and I've dealt with it. So opening a paranormal cleanup business just seemed to make sense. If I'm already dealing with the pests, why not get paid? But when I accidentally breach the faerie realm to encounter a girl recently reported missing, start seeing the ghost of a witch whose disappearance has never been solved, and discover a Book of Shadows that opens only for me, I can't just go back to business as usual.

When a shipwreck washes up on a beach across from Marlow House, Frederickport residents wonder what happened to the ship's crew. Danielle discovers the ship brought a stowaway - a spirit with ties to Frederickport that go back to the 1920's when Walt, Marlow House's resident ghost, was still alive.

Midnight. Some call it the witching hour. Others call it the devil’s hour. Here in the graveyard, midnight is a very special time. It is a time when ghostly spirits are at their strongest, when the veil between our world and theirs is at its thinnest. Legend has it, that while most of the world is asleep, the lack of prayers allow the spirits to communicate under the cover of darkness, among the headstones, their whispers rustling in the leaves of the old oak trees. But if you’re here in the graveyard, you can tell yourself it’s just the wind....

Eric Banyon, musician, is out playing the blues on his flute one day, but he couldn't have known that the desperate sadness of his music would free a young elven noble from the magical prison he has been languishing in for centuries - nor does he believe it!

There's never a good time for a ghost crisis. However, it's particularly inconvenient while I'm trying to tackle my first wedding season. Between 12-hour days, an assistant with a case of butterfingers (not the chocolate kind), and the flood of tourists in town, I'm struggling to keep a grip on my sanity. All I want is three months of peace from the spirit world. But when local ghosts start going missing, I have to do something.

Left alone at Marlow House with Sadie and Max, Walt expects Danielle and Lily to return by the end of the week. When they don't, he begins to wonder what happened to them. The ghost of Marlow House doesn't scare six-year-old Evan MacDonald. When the child sneaks into the house in the middle of the night, seeking Walt's help, the resident spirit learns something has happened to Danielle and Lily. Can a ghost confined to Marlow House and a pint-sized medium bring the people they love home?

One hundred years ago in Port Arbello a pretty little girl began to scream. And struggle. And die. No one heard. No one saw. Just one man whose guilty heart burst in pain as he dashed himself to death in the sea. Now something peculiar is happening in Port Arbello. The children are disappearing, one by one. An evil history is repeating itself. And one strange, terrified child has ended her silence with a scream that began 100 years ago.

Vacation goals... I have them. Real life is not cooperating. I don't require poolside margaritas under a fancy cabana to have a good time. All I wanted was 10 ghost-free days to enjoy sightseeing New Orleans with my boyfriend, to admire art galleries, listen to live music, and eat as many beignets as I can before my pants stop buttoning. I might as well have asked Santa for a unicorn.