4 Best Horror Book Series That Will Give You The Creeps [March 2023]

The best horror book series from Next Chapter [March 2023]

The horror book genre is a popular literary genre that aims to scare and horrify readers with its dark and chilling tales. Horror books typically explore themes of fear, terror, and the supernatural, and often feature characters who find themselves in terrifying and unsettling situations. From ghosts and monsters to serial killers and demonic entities, horror books can take many forms and can be as unsettling as they are thrilling.

One of the key elements of the horror genre is the use of suspense and tension to build up to a terrifying climax. Horror books often employ a slow, deliberate pace, drawing the reader in with atmospheric descriptions and unnerving details that gradually escalate into full-blown horror. The best horror books leave readers on the edge of their seats, unsure of what might happen next, and deeply invested in the fates of the characters.

Despite its reputation for being a niche genre, horror books have enjoyed enduring popularity among readers for decades. From classic horror writers like Stephen King and Edgar Allan Poe to modern masters like Joe Hill and Gillian Flynn, the horror genre has produced some of the most iconic and memorable stories in literature. Whether you're a seasoned horror fan or just dipping your toes into the genre, there's always something new and terrifying waiting to be discovered in the world of horror books.

On this page, we’ve collected four of our horror book series, now available from all major book retailers. Whether it’s psychological, historical or paranormal horror you’re looking for, we believe the books on this page will deliver.

We hope you enjoy one of the books you find here - and if you do, please take a moment to leave the author a review :) Don’t agree with our choices? Leave a comment below and let us know what books are your favorites in the horror genre!

Dark Voyage (Tales From The Dark Past Book 1) by Helen Susan Swift

Book excerpt

As Thoms had predicted, Captain Milne snarled at us for the time we had taken, and for loading sacks rather than just shovelling the shingle directly into the boat. 'Bloody longshore amateurs,' he spat over the side and thrust his cap forward over his eyes before jerking his thumb at Learmonth the bosun. 'Leerie, take two men and the whaler; bring me another load.'

'Aye, sir,' Learmonth nodded to Donaldson and Mackie, two men so inseparable they could almost have been brothers. 'You two are with me.'

'We shouldn't have taken it,' Pratt was still unhappy as he dragged the first sack on board Lady Balgay. When he released it the shingle slithered onto the deck and lay damp and glistening under the cold sun. 'Not from there.'

'Will you keep your mouth shut?' Captain Milne snarled at him. 'You'll unsettle the men with your nonsense. Now, give a hand here.'

'They deserve to know,' Pratt backed off from the next sack, his hands held in front of him, palm upward, 'and I'm not touching that. Not ever. It should not be on the ship.' He faced the captain. 'It's still not too late, Captain. But we can't just throw the damned stuff overboard. We'll have to replace it exactly where we got it.'

'Why?' I had wanted to ask that question ever since I first heard Pratt complain, but now I could not contain myself. 'What is the story of Gass Skerry, Mr Pratt?' and Pratt's eyes brightened at the chance to unburden himself.

'It's old…' he began, but Captain Milne stepped in front of him, rocking back on his heels so he was within an inch of the taller man and with his stare stabbing into Pratt's eyes.

'You're a superstitious old bugger, Pratt, and I warn you to keep your nonsense to yourself.'

'The lads ought to know,' Pratt insisted, until Captain Milne leaned closer, forcing Pratt to retreat until his back was hard against the mainmast. The captain dropped his voice to a menacing hiss.

'If you repeat one word of your fairy tales, Pratt, I'll personally gut you, and throw the remains to the fish. You know that I mean exactly what I say, don't you?'

There was a moment's silence as Pratt licked his lips. He looked from me to Captain Milne and back.

'Don't you, Pratt?' Captain Milne balled his fists. His eyes were cloudy green.

'Yes, Captain.' Pratt nodded, his head moving in a succession of rapid, uncoordinated jerks. Sweat was running from his forehead.

Led By Beasts (Led By Beasts Book 1) by Clark Roberts

Book excerpt

Whenever Marie had encountered the words ghost town, she inevitably experienced a chill at her spine, but the phrase clown town was doubly worse. Clown town—it sounded so bizarre, so bastardized, and even unsound.

Marie quickly read the historical landmark sign a second time to make sure she hadn’t misinterpreted the information because she could barely fathom the validity of it.

It claimed clowns had built a settlement along the Lake Michigan coastline around 1850. Economically Buffoonville had struggled right up until the Great Fire of 1871 ravaged Chicago. In exchange for a great financial windfall, the politicians and business owners of Buffoonville—did they all wear wigs and clown makeup?—shortsightedly agreed to timbering off the dense forests surrounding the settlement to help rebuild Chicago. The money rolled in, but without the protection of the massive oaks and tall pines, Buffoonville’s days were numbered. The constant winds of the Great Lake, always carrying sand, began burying the buildings, and most of the clown residents fled, leaving Buffoonville a relative ghost town.

The black and white photos accompanying the written record showed huge mounds of sand revealing only the peaks of a few gabled homes and businesses.

“Greg, I’m not so sure about this,” Marie muttered.

“This is part of our country’s history,” her husband stated. “It’ll be fine. The trail marker says it’s only three-quarters of a mile hike to the beach. The kids can handle it.”

“I’m not talking about the hike.” Marie nodded her head at the sign. “I mean a ghost town buried beneath the sand. It was a town supposedly inhabited by clowns of all things. The state campground is only four miles back.”

The family stood at the trailhead. Despite it being a Friday evening, not one other vehicle was parked in the dirt lot. Now that Marie thought about it, they hadn’t seen another vehicle since they’d zipped past the state campground into what Greg reverently referred to as no-man’s land.

“Suck it up, buttercup.” Greg hitched his shoulders to resettle his backpack. “They don’t even let you set up on the actual beach in the state campgrounds.”

Unknown (The Forsaken Series Book 1) by Phil Price

Book excerpt

Alice Bathurst's mission was simple. Get home before nightfall to tell her older sister of the strange goings on at old man Yeo's Farm. Rumour had it that Tyler Yeo, the only son of the old man was carrying on with his own cousin Morag, who was lodging with them since the passing of her folks. They had died during the harsh winter, succumbing to the sickness. But tragedy aside, there was some juicy tales to be told and Alice was a natural storyteller.

Her problem now lay in front of her.

The night was growing dark, the birds high up in the trees giving their last chorus of the day to the girl way below. Before her, lay a fork in the road, with the left fork meandering down towards what looked like a large lake in the distance. It sat there covered by a silvery mist, amongst stubby lifeless trees. The right fork climbed steadily up a forested hill and out of sight from the girl, but she knew where it led. She needed to make a quick decision.

Well, she thought to herself. If I take Hooper's lake, I'll never make it back before the Moon is up. Katherine will be fast asleep by then, and I'll have to wait 'til daybreak.

She turned her head to the right and looked up at the forest in front of her. This time she spoke aloud. “But if I go through Amatoll forest, I may never make it back at all. Unless I run.” She knew that the forest was a creepy place to be, even in the watery sun of daylight. However, at night, it was a place that not even the bravest of folks would care to venture, with stories of evil doings and strange beasts waiting for such a sweet fancy as Alice.

It was one turn of the dial before the birds stopped and the land fell into darkness, and Alice knew she could make it all the way through to Banners Gate on the far side. Her village, Heronveld, lay a short wagon ride beyond. She knew she'd be able to see the twinkling lights soon. Her mind was made up as she hitched her long skirts over her knees and began skipping up towards the first gate on the crest of the hill.

When she reached the large wooden gate, she stopped as she always did to read the faded painted sign that hung there for all locals and strangers alike.

To heed the warning.

What Haunts Me (Ghost Killer Book 1) by Margaret Millmore

Book excerpt

During the cab ride home, I emailed the pictures from my phone so I could view them on a larger screen. When I arrived at the apartment I went straight to my laptop. As the pictures were downloading, I grabbed a beer and walked over to my bay window and gazed out, unseeing, for a few minutes. I was putting off the viewing for three reasons. First, what if the pictures showed two different men, wearing similar clothing, one disabled, one not? What if the pictures showed the same man, one disabled and one not? Lastly, what if they showed the ghost? I didn't know much about ghosts; in fact, my knowledge was limited to what I'd seen in movies, and I didn't put much credence into Hollywood's knowledge of the paranormal beyond making money off it. Could ghosts be photographed?

If there were two separate men in the pictures, then I needed to reconsider my previous declaration regarding insanity. After all, I'd convinced myself that I had some sort of ghost or demon killing power, to the extent that I went out and tried to test it. However, if there was only one man in two different conditions, what did that actually mean? That I had the ability to find and extinguish evil spirits that plagued the living? That I could heal and save the living from these spirits? I wasn't actually sure which was more problematic at this point.

As I turned to go to the computer, I heard voices in the hallway. It sounded like Justine talking to someone. I ran to the door and looked out the peep hole. She was there, speaking loudly to another elderly neighbor, one who was very hard of hearing. I opened the door and she saw me and smiled. The elderly neighbor had turned to go back to her apartment and was shuffling in the opposite direction.

“Hey Justine, how was your luncheon?” I asked.

“George, my dear! Those people are such snobs,” she snickered. “However, I do enjoy the ballet and must put up with the committee.” She shook her head in mock disgust.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course dear, anything you like,” she replied kindly.

“The little boy from this morning, is he going to be okay?”

She frowned, a look of confusion crossing her face. “Why do you ask, dear? He seemed just fine to me. I saw him not ten minutes ago in the lobby. He was laughing and jumping around just like all boys do. They're so full of energy at that age.”

Of course he was, and why shouldn't he be? After all, a demon was plaguing him just a few short hours ago, and now it wasn't. I was good and scared now, because that little boy was sick and I'd helped to cure him. It was real, and even though I hadn't viewed the pictures yet, I knew what they were going to show me.

There you go: four of the best horror book series from Next Chapter, as of 03/2023. We hope you enjoy the stories - and if you do, please leave a comment below, or a review in Goodreads or your favorite store. We’d really appreciate it!