“Is it possible for one to enter sleep and wander while never waking? And if so, for how long can one survive… — Tiffany Apan Copy Share Image
“He would die in this room, buried alive by the weight of his life.” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“And maybe that is exactly what happened…he walked away and never woke up…” — Tiffany Apan Copy Share Image
“I had no lock that could be picked. If anything, I was the landscape behind the door, and even on that day… — Adam McOmber Copy Share Image
“At its heart, Gothic Fiction is the introvert's "Hero's Journey" where heroes and heroines must navigate the uncharted territory of the mind… — Barrymore Tebbs Copy Share Image
“I found serenity in the towers, especially the highest, even in the midst of winter. The crows also enjoyed the lofts, and… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“Joshua had always been able to get away with things—things for which he should never have been forgiven. He was a lot… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“The past had already been dealt with, to one end or another, it was certain, fixed, the horror of it was already… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“Insects crawled across my skin, legs skittering across my flesh, numbed paths of cold left in their wake. They were the creatures… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“Call it what you like: The Upper Sky, the Unmade, even the Empyrean. Men have given it so many names over the… — Adam McOmber Copy Share Image
“I imagined her poised, a humerus in one hand, a toothbrush in the other, as she gently brushed away the last remnants… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“In the distance, steel-blue mountains loomed heavy on the horizon, their shoulders burdened with the same accursed snow the gods were currently… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“Lady Dunreath, in the meantime, suffered torture; after she had seen Malvina turned from the abbey, she returned to her apartment; it… — Regina Maria Roche Copy Share Image
“Art lovers collect paintings that demonstrate some form of imperceptible complexity. Abstract images with vague messages and symbols that keep you guessing… — Mindy Fordham Copy Share Image
“The marine underworld stretched below the ship and embodied many secrets. The disappearance of Olga had become one of the mysteries that… — Tiffany Apan Copy Share Image
“Good evening, you poor little Orphans of a Loveless God. Good evening to you blood sucking fools.” — Paula Heath Copy Share Image
“To me, Gothic fiction is the literary representation of the stormy gloom of the British Isles.” — Stewart Stafford Copy Share Image
“he night beyond the window was still, mordant white snow, punctuated only by the eerie dark of the trees, gumshoeing their way… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“Just before he passed behind the hedge at the end of the drive, he turned to look back at Stoke Morrow and… — Adam McOmber Copy Share Image
“I was familiar with the realms of unnatural, for I myself was an unnatural. Not a monster in appearance; I looked like… — Adam McOmber Copy Share Image
“She stood in the snow, effervescent, all pale skin and blonde hair, clad in white and bathed in moonlight. She should have… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“It was a fact that had become the focus of my entire life, a whisper in my heartbeat, a permanent, insidious presence… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“Death begins before birth. I have always found this an odd notion, but were it not for the death of certain cells… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“...Leaning on her maid, she stole through the winding galleries, and lightly descending the stairs, entered the long hall, which terminated in… — Regina Maria Roche Copy Share Image
“It seemed for a moment as if something was there, loitering between the knurled and towering cherry trees, a flash of a… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
“Penelope had read several novels about such governesses in preparation for her interview and found them chock-full of useful information, although she… — Maryrose Wood Copy Share Image
“The reflection was that of a putrefying corpse. By some trick of the light, her face seemed sallow and slipping, the patches… — Hazel Butler Copy Share Image
