Little Cemetery (The Little Cemetery Series Book 1)

A New Term of Terror at Cemetery High

When Tom Midd and Pete Night return to Cemetery High, nothing is as it should be. Blood donations are now mandatory, ghost stories are on the syllabus, and the teachers—well, they’re not quite alive anymore. As the school year spirals into full-blown horror, the town of Little Cemetery faces an even darker threat rising from beneath its foundations.

A sinister witch, reanimated teachers, and a wave of grotesque demons descend upon the town in this wildly imaginative horror comedy. With only a haunted lantern, a sausage-fueled showdown, and a cryptic caretaker to guide them, Tom and Pete must outwit the undead and stop a supernatural takeover.

Julian Middleton’s Little Cemetery is a macabre and hilarious adventure perfect for older children and adults who love their horror with a wicked twist.

Enter the twisted halls of Cemetery High—before the bell tolls for good.

Buy Little Cemetery today

Excerpt from the book

Two hundred children settled themselves on the freshly cleaned tile floor of the school hall as Mr Poppard drifted slowly across the stage. A few strands of silver hair were combed across his otherwise bald head. His spectacles balanced on the tip of his nose, ready to slip but never quite doing so.

Tom Midd shifted uncomfortably on the floor. It was extremely cold and hard, and the chill from the ground below crept into his bones.

“Good Morning, everyone.” Mr Poppard’s frail voice carried across the room like a feeble autumn breeze. “Welcome back to Cemetery High. I trust you all had a good summer.”

Tom glanced around. Everyone remained silent, no doubt dreaming of the summer that had just passed.

“I’d like to welcome all the new faces joining us this September,” the headmaster continued in a thin, lifeless tone. “I trust that the four years you are about to spend with us will be enjoyable and rewarding.”

Someone sneezed extremely loudly.

“Here at Cemetery High, we look forward to watching you turn from boys and girls into young men and women.”

Tom stifled a yawn. He had started at the school a year earlier and heard Mr Poppard make the same speech then. He looked across to the left of the draughty hall where the staff sat on hard, plastic chairs. Mr Edge, the metalwork teacher, was scratching his beard as usual. Miss Jennings, who taught music, sat beside him; her hands played an imaginary piano on her lap as she stared into space. As Tom’s eyes moved to the end of the line, he frowned. He didn’t recognise the final figure, a dark-haired woman in a white uniform. She was thin, prim and looked completely miserable. Perhaps she was the headmaster’s new secretary – they never lasted more than a term and always looked as if some ghastly supernatural entity was haunting them.

“There are to be one or two changes to the school routine this year,” Mr Poppard droned on. “First break is now at ten forty-five, instead of ten thirty. This has nothing to do with members of staff wanting to catch the morning episode of Pritchard Street, however.”

Tom blinked. Evidently, Poppard was attempting a joke. The head cracked the thinnest of smiles as he looked around the hall, and the room felt draughtier than ever. Miss Jennings’ hands danced in her lap.

“Secondly,” Poppard went on, “the school bell will now ring for six seconds at the end of the day and four seconds at all other times, and not the other way around.”

Tom saw Timothy Williams in the next row write this down in his school diary and rolled his eyes.

“Finally,” Mr Poppard concluded, “during the course of today, all pupils will be required to give a pint of blood to Miss Manners, our new nurse.”

Gasps of consternation filled the hall. Mr Poppard gripped the podium in front of him with his pale, bony fingers and gazed out across the sea of heads like an ancient sea captain surveying his crew. The staff did not react in any way. The pupils gaped open-mouthed at one another. Everyone started talking at once.