Emily Hunter loves hanging out with her new neighbors. From their decked-out rec room to their almost-professional guitar playing, Drew and Vicky Strig are super cool. The only bummer is that Drew and Vicky are homeschooled and Emily's other friends haven't gotten to know them yet. So Emily comes up with a plan for everyone to meet--a big party and sleepover at her house! But as Emily gets ready for the party, she begins to wonder about Drew and Vicky. They won't let Emily into certain rooms in their house. And a wolf howls on their lawn every night. Is it only Emily's overactive imagination or are the new neighbors more than just a little strange? A lifelong night owl, P.J. Night often works furiously into the wee hours of the morning, writing down spooky tales and dreaming up new stories of the supernatural and otherworldly. Although P.J.’s whereabouts are unknown at this time, we suspect the author lives in a drafty, old mansion where the floorboards creak when no one is there and the flickering candlelight creates shadows that creep along the walls. We truly wish we could tell you more, but we’ve been sworn to keep P.J.’s identity a secret…and it’s a secret we will take to our graves! CHAPTER 1 The tall, black-clad man stepped slowly toward the sleeping woman who was stretched out on the couch. Behind him, pale light from a mist-shrouded moon trickled in through a broken window. In the distance, the mournful wail of a wolf split the deathly still night. The man strode one step closer, brushing past a spiderweb, sending the eight-legged creature scurrying up its silvery strands. Reaching the couch, the man parted his brilliant red lips, revealing two long, sharp, gleaming white fangs. “And now, my dear,” the man said softly, leaning down toward the woman’s exposed throat, “you will be mine—forever!” As the man’s fangs closed in on her neck, the woman suddenly awoke. Her eyes shot open in horror as she stared up at the beastlike jaws moving quickly toward her. “AAAIIIEEEEEE!” she screamed, but her cry went unanswered. Almost. “Emily? Is that you? Is everything all right? I heard a scream,” said a voice drifting down the basement stairs. Downstairs, in her family’s home theater, Emily Hunter hit the pause button on the DVD’s remote. “Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” Emily replied, shaking her head. Why does she always interrupt me just at the good part? she wondered, staring at the horrific image frozen on the big screen in front of her. “Well, I’m home, honey,” Emily’s mom called down. “You watching a scary movie again?” “Yeah, Mom. I like scary movies, remember?” Emily shouted up the stairs. “Okay, dinner will be ready in about half an hour,” her mom replied. “Dad will be home any minute.” Emily glanced at the clock. It read 8:10. She shook her head. “I bet I’m the only kid in the entire country who eats dinner at eight thirty,” Emily mumbled to herself. Then she shrugged and hit play. Up on the screen, the man had the woman locked in his supernatural gaze. She was spellbound by his stare, unable to move, trapped by his dark, penetrating eyes. He bit down hard, sinking his teeth deeply into her neck. She went limp in his arms, not dead, but no longer truly alive. The vampire’s victim had been ushered into the world of the undead. “Cool!” Emily said. Then she hit rewind and watched the scene again. “Hey, Em, I’m home!” came her dad’s voice from the top of the stairs. “Hi, Dad,” Emily shouted up to him, pausing the movie again. “How was your day?” her dad asked. “Good, thanks.” “Great,” her dad said. “I’ll see you in a few for dinner.” As she went back to the movie, Emily thought about the long hours that both her parents worked. Her mom was a lawyer. Her dad, a vice president of a pharmaceutical company. Emily knew that without all their hard work she would not be sitting in a state-of-the-art home theater watching one of her favorite horror movies. And if letting herself in after school, spending a few hours alone, and eating dinner at eight thirty instead of six like the rest of the world was the price, well, she figured she didn’t have it all that bad. As the undead man and woman on the screen stepped from the old gothic mansion in search of fresh victims, the credits rolled, and Emily’s mom called her for dinner. “On my way, Mom!” she shouted, flipping off the TV and bounding up the stairs. “So what did you do at school today?” her dad asked as he passed Emily a bowl of mashed potatoes. “Nothing too exciting,” Emily replied, scooping potatoes onto her plate next to a mound of string beans. “I had to climb the rope in gym. You know how much I love that. But chem lab was fun. Ethan and Hannah were lab partners. And Ethan put too much red powder in with the blue powder, and white smoke and bubbles started pouring out of the beaker, all over the lab table and the floor. It was so funny!” “I always said Ethan was a born scientist,” her father teased. “Hey! How ab