Résultats pour "Kyle" dans Horreur

“Mind f*cking melting.” —BENJAMIN PERCY “Cosmically creepy as hell. A nightmarish experience.” —DAN CHAON Horror Movie meets The Blair Witch Project in this supernatural chokehold of a book told entirely through found documents: the cursed story of an unwitting couple ensnared by a...

Paisley Twynham is over the whole werewolf thing. It'd been a shock to be magically kidnapped and plopped in the middle of a werewolf gathering. Then she got kidnapped a second time, had the crap beat out of her, escaped, and then met two men who are supposed to be her mates. Yup, all kinds of "over" the Gathering. Her only salvations are her sisters and...the two men she can't help but drool over. Tall, muscular, sexy as hell, and, for some reason, they want her fluffy ass. Maybe she doesn't hate werewolves as much as she thought....

Lorelei is a hint over 30 - nobody better ask how much of a hint - and isn't sure why the hell she's been magically hauled to the land of werewolves. But she has. Which sucks. At least they stole her while she was at the gun range. Go Pink Pistol of Doom! So, they stole her, she stole a cell phone in return, and all is crazy in her new werewolf-laced world. It gets even crazier when, one - she discovers her sisters have been kidnapped, too, and two - werewolves are sexy as all get out.

Just when you thought it was safe to listen to another poetry book. Kyle Coare brings you more dark tales, more twisted nightmares, in this spiritual successor to In Shadows. Scary visions mired in the shadows. Lurking beasts and crooked wonders. Shady lanes and darkened corners. Apparitions rising from the grave. The shadows warned us, but we didn't hear their cries. The shadows warned us, at the cold dark end of day.

Twenty-something Pia Bhandari has the ideal life–or so it seems. As long as she puts on a happy face, no one is any the wiser about the sinister voices in her head. Not her boyfriend, Raghav, or her soon-to-be-married younger sister, Khushi, her long-time psychiatrist, Dr Agarwal, her father, Ajit, or even her mother, Neeta, who is otherwise obsessed with controlling her daughter’s life.

Life around the world has grown to be a bit chaotic, and it contributes to inferior outcomes. The Germans are secretly plotting to discharge an infection called Wiedergänger serum across the Earth. It is to produce an up rising of zombies. The CIA and MI6 are being misled by the enemies thinking they are planning to establish World War III, but it is simply to cover up Project Z. Agents are assigned to uncover the accuracy of their intelligence before it is remarkably too late.

Inside, you will find tales of Scottish horror based on the legend of Sawney Bean, historic horror tales about the Picts, tales of rage when a man battling anger issues faces off against a Young Team, and a haggis themed creature feature.

The year is 1795. Frankenstein’s monster has given his creator an ultimatum: Victor must build the creature a mate, or watch as the monster destroys everything and everyone he has ever loved. You know their story. You don’t know hers. She is born into darkness, her destiny entwined with an unspeakable evil. Her sole companion is her creator, the inscrutable Victor Frankenstein, gatekeeper to a life she has never experienced. As her understanding of humanity takes shape, she must contend with the horrific nature of her intended mate and conflicting feelings for her creator.

When Makara Angel winds up in post-apocalyptic LA, she was looking for a home, not trouble. Now Makara finds herself in the middle of a gang war, fighting for survival in LA's decaying streets. Even after she falls in with the Lost Angels and their charismatic leader, safety is no guarantee. The Black Reapers are ramping up their aggression against the Angels, and Makara finds herself in the crossfire.

The Vegas Exodus is at a standstill. Besieged by the Xenoswarm in the town Pyrite, they must shelter in either Bunker 108 or Bunker 84 if they are to survive the winter. But in Bunker 84 lurks a darkness that could end the Exodus. And it may also be that the denizens of Bunker 84, known as "The Community", are not as isolated from the events of the Wasteland as it first appears. The Community's leader, Elias, has his own plans for the future of the Wasteland - and those plans will change everything.

Fate hasn't been kind to Trina Edgecomb. When her fated mate died on their honeymoon, she was left to face a long and bleak life utterly alone. Of course, as the healer to a very rambunctious wolf pack, she's never truly alone, but nothing will ever ease her crushing solitude. Rogue wolf Max Kincaid has only one purpose: To bring down the developer who destroyed his pack and his life. He's tracked the man to the small town of Tremble, Georgia, and he's just waiting for his moment to strike. Except, before he can fulfill his destiny, he's ambushed in the woods and left to die.

“You don’t remember...do you?” His brown eyes suddenly twinkled, and he shook his head. “No? You don’t remember calling on me in the depths of those first awful nights, when you were at your most exposed, when you were at your most vulnerable?” He stroked her long, brown hair with an almost impossible gentleness; it was as though a cool-warm breeze rifled it rather than his fingers. “When it was just you and the boy...alone, scared. Cold. Hungry?"

Naaygi found them waiting for her - as she somehow knew they would be - as the cage doors opened, their forward-facing eyes glinting the same hue as the lights in the sky and their dark, storm-colored bodies held absolutely still (even as another animal joined them and brought their number to four). She even knew somehow what they were, that they were a breed of carnosaur the "evolved" humans had called nanotyrannosaurs, the "Pygmy Tyrants", and that one of them, the one with the brand upon its tail, the leader, even had a name - Napoleon.

There were six of them in total, more than had been present in the bar (not that it mattered, they would have rounded up others, I was sure). The important thing is that it was them — the MAGA crew — of that I had little doubt. Three of them were crowded into the cab while three others rode in the payload — all of them wearing crudely-stitched burlap hoods — and each brandishing some form of weapon, whether that meant a pistol or a rifle or a rusty pitchfork.

Best known for his poetry and historic novels in the style of Sir Walter Scott, Alexender Bestuzhev-Marlinsky takes a turn down a different path with A Terrible Prophecy and delivers classic spooky tale on the dangers of having one's wishes fulfilled to the letter.

How do you carry on when life has taken everything? When death has touched you, so personally, so deeply, so powerfully. How do you carry on, when the future has been stolen by the birdsong? Nothing is as it seems in this nightmare world.

Having survived the first outbreak and the onset of the second, Henry now navigates a world in constant flux. The infected exhibit behavior unlike anything from the previous infection, making survival increasingly perilous. Amidst this chaos, new warlords rise to power while old forces continue their relentless struggle for control over the wastelands that once were America. Faced with new losses and faltering friendships, Henry stands at a crossroads, fighting to keep his group united and survive the ever-changing threats around them.

Five new tales from the Flashback, from its initial outbreak to its effects months down the road. Featuring characters and situations that will feature prominently later in the saga, Tales is both a prologue and supplement to Flashback Twilight. Essential for fans of the saga....

I stared the thing in the eye and squeezed the trigger. It threw back its head, rising up. It gasped for breath, spitting more blood. It barked at the sky. Then it fell, head thumping against the deck. Its serpentine neck slumped. The rest of its blood spread over the boards and rolled around our boots and flowed between the planks.

Naaygi found them waiting for her - as she somehow knew they would be - as the cage doors opened. She even knew somehow what they were: a breed of carnosaur the “evolved” humans had called nanotyrannosaurs, the “Pygmy Tyrants”. And thus she bowed to them and touched her forehead to the pavement, a pavement which ran red with blood and was strewn with the dismembered, disemboweled corpses of at least 50 men and women. And then whispered to them in a language older than words, "Follow me."