Dance with me until the moon hides its face,
And the sun attempts to quicken the pace.
From the sunlight, the vampire turns his face,
And dancers twirl to the light’s frenzied pace.
Books for sale:
Vintage #paranormal#occult#NewAge books for sale: UFOs, Bigfoot, The Bermuda Triangle, Edgar Cayce, dream interpretation, Auras, Chakras, etc
I also have a group of Agatha Christie's I'm never going to read.
Will sell them to anyone who wants 3 or more via Paypal, make an offer + add $5 for media mail shipping.
First to claim gets them
Also posting on Bluesky so act fast
Run from this place,
From the town of demons,
Walkers of the night.
Palm trees bow to their power.
Sand covers the victims.
Tourists flee the hotel.
The winds howl their name.
The trees of the forest shiver and shake.
Their long limbs tremble from the next quake.
White is the color of my nightgown
As I stand and shiver with a frown.
A shadow emerges from the trees.
I hope it is not him, pretty please.
My body moves forward against my will.
I grab a thick tree and try to hold still.
I dig my feet into the packed snow,
But I must go where the wind might blow.
Explore the darker side of the Ferguson Collection
With Hallowe’en just behind us, in the first of a series of spooky-themed blog posts by the University of Glasgow Archives & Special Collections, we delve into 19th century literature on the occult. In this article we look at Sir Walter Scott’s (famed writer of Ivanhoe) conception of the supernatural, before moving on to explore the significance of a rare anthology of ghost stories https://www.exploreyourarchive.org/the-darker-side-of-the-ferguson-collection-part-1/
A town laden with mystery
and cursed by dark history
appears peaceful by day
until the cursed ones play
with the inhabitants' lives
like bears attacking bee hives.
QSFer Ryan John Cavell has a new queer adult horror book out: The Toy Hospital.
Christmas will never be the same again! Nestled amongst the coffee shops and boutiques of Manchester there slumps a Toy Hospital, where two old ladies spend their days fixing, healing, and loving the lost and unfortunate playthings that comes into their care...
I open the guest room door
as violent winds pummel the inn.
Lightning illuminates the blood
dripping onto the floor.
I shiver in fear.
Who else is here?