S.T. GIBSON BOOKS
In the realm of dark fantasy and mystery, S.T. Gibson stands as a formidable presence, weaving tales of intrigue and suspense that ensnare readers in their dark embrace. With a penchant for the macabre and a talent for crafting intricate plots, Gibso...
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"You did not let me keep my name, so I will strip you of yours."
~ S.T. Gibson
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In the realm of dark fantasy and mystery, S.T. Gibson stands as a formidable presence, weaving tales of intrigue and suspense that ensnare readers in their dark embrace. With a penchant for the macabre and a talent for crafting intricate plots, Gibson has carved out a niche for themselves as a master of atmospheric storytelling.
Born in California and raised in deep south, S.T. Gibson's fascination with the eerie and unexplained began at an early age. Surrounded by the vast expanse of the countryside, they found inspiration in the shadows and secrets that lurked in the corners of their imagination.
Gibson burst onto the literary scene with their debut novel, "A Dowry of Blood," a haunting retelling of the Dracula mythos from the perspective of his brides. The book garnered widespread acclaim for its lush prose, atmospheric setting, and innovative approach to a beloved literary classic.
Following the success of "A Dowry of Blood," Gibson continued to captivate readers with a series of equally spellbinding novels, including "An Education in Malice" and "The Strange Case of Miss Eliza Doolittle." Each book showcases Gibson's talent for crafting complex characters, intricate plots, and evocative settings that transport readers to worlds where magic and mystery collide.
While "A Dowry of Blood" remains Gibson's most celebrated work to date, they have also received acclaim for their contributions to the world of fanfiction and interactive fiction. Their stories have been featured in numerous anthologies and literary magazines, earning them a dedicated following of readers who are drawn to their unique blend of horror, romance, and intrigue.
In addition to their literary accomplishments, S.T. Gibson is also an advocate for diversity and inclusion in literature, using their platform to amplify marginalized voices and challenge traditional narratives. Their commitment to representation and authenticity is reflected in their writing, which features a diverse cast of characters and explores themes of identity, power, and belonging.
Gibson's writing is characterized by its atmospheric prose, intricate plotting, and richly drawn characters. They have a gift for creating immersive worlds that are both familiar and fantastical, inviting readers to lose themselves in the shadows and secrets that lurk within.
Readers are drawn to S.T. Gibson's work for its richly textured storytelling, compelling characters, and thought-provoking themes. Their novels offer a tantalizing blend of mystery, romance, and the supernatural, providing readers with a thrilling escape from the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary.
For those seeking a literary experience that is both chilling and captivating, S.T. Gibson's books are a must-read. With their evocative prose, haunting imagery, and gripping narratives, they offer a journey into the heart of darkness that is as exhilarating as it is unforgettable.
As for what the future holds, fans will be delighted to know that S.T. Gibson has an upcoming book slated for release in the coming months. While details remain under wraps, anticipation is already building for another spellbinding tale from this talented author. As readers eagerly await the next chapter in Gibson's literary odyssey, one thing is certain – with their talent for conjuring tales of mystery and intrigue, the possibilities are endless.
S.T. Gibson Best Quotes
“You did not let me keep my name, so I will strip you of yours. In this world you are what I say you are, and I say you are a ghost, a long night's fever dream that I have finally woken up from. I say you are the smoke-wisp memory of a flame, thawing ice suffering under an early spring sun, a chalk ledger of depts being wiped clean. I say you do not have a name.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You d me best when I was an oil painting; perfectly arranged and silent.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You could have kissed me or slit my throat and either would have made as much sense.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “This is my last love letter to you, though some would call it a confession. I suppose both are a sort of gentle violence, putting down in ink what scorches the air when spoken aloud.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Even loneliness, hollow and cold, becomes so familiar it starts to feel a friend.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I will render you as you really were, neither cast in pristine stained glass or unholy fire. I will make you into nothing more than a man, tender and brutal in equal measure, and perhaps in doing so I will justify myself to you. To my own haunted conscience.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I made you into my private Christ, supplicated with my own dark devotions. Nothing existed beyond the range of your exacting gaze, not even me. I was simply a non-entity when you weren't looking at me, an empty vessel waiting to be filled by the sweet water of your attention. A woman can't live that, my Lord. No one can. Don't ask me why I did it. God, forgive me. Christ, forgive me.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “War is the whetstone that grinds down all sense, all humanity.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “People aren’t meant to live forever. I know that now.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “If you can still hear me wherever you are, my love, my tormentor, hear this: It was never my intention to murder you. Not in the beginning, anyway.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I lost myself so entirely in charting the contours of my love for you that there wasn't any room for tracking time. There wasn't any room to examine the past or the future, there was only the eternal now.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I have one final promise to make to you, one I hope I will never break. I promise to live, richly and shamelessly and with my arms wide open to the world. If there was any part left of you at the end that wished our our great happiness, that truly wanted what was best for us, I think it would be pleased to hear me say it. I do not know if I have justified my choice to you, but I think I have justified it to myself, and that has brought me peace enough.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was tried of being your Magdalene. I was tried of waiting expectantly at your tomb every night for you to rise and bring light into my world once again.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “What is more lovely, after all, than a monster undone with want?” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I know you loved us all, in your own way. Magdalena for her brilliance, Alexi for his loveliness. But I was your war bride, your faithful Constanta, and you loved me for my will to survive. You coaxed that tenacity out of me and broke it down in your hands, leaving me on your work table a desiccated doll until you were ready to repair me. You filled me with your loving guidance, stitched up my seams with thread in your favorite color, taught me how to walk and talk and smile in whatever way pleased you best. I was so happy to be your marionette, at first. So happy to be chosen.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You never once thought I would have the strength to disobey you, did you? The possibility that my will was stronger than yours never even crossed your mind.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was tired of carrying around the weight of a love worship, of sickly-warm rush of idolatry coloring my whole world.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “It would be easier if he hated us,” she said. “But he loves us all terribly. And if we go on letting him love us, that love is going to kill us. That’s what makes him so dangerous.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I dove down deep into your psyche, turning over every word you gave me a jewel. Looking for meaning, seeking out the mysteries of you. I didn't care if I lost myself in the process. I wanted to be brought by the hand into your world and disappear into your kiss until us two could no longer be told apart.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Through her eyes, I was able to experience the story for the first time all over again.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “My mother once told me that trauma is Lord of the Rings. You go through this crazy, life-altering thing that almost kills you ( say having to drop the one ring into Mount Doom), and that thing by definition cannot possibly be understood by someone who hasn’t gone through it. They can sympathize sure, but they’ll never really know, and more than ly they’ll expect you to move on from the thing fairly quickly. And they can’t be blamed, people are just that, but that’s not how it works. Some lucky people are Sam. They can go straight home, get married, have a whole bunch of curly headed Hobbit babies and pick up their gardening right where they left off, content to forget the whole thing and live out their days in peace. Lots of people however, are Frodo, and they don’t come home the same person they were when they left, and everything is more horrible and more hard then it ever was before. The old wounds sting and the ghost of the weight of the one ring still weighs heavy on their minds, and they don’t fit in at home anymore, so they get on boats go sailing away to the Undying West to look for the sort of peace that can only come from within. Frodos can’t cope, and most of us are Frodos when we start out. But if we move past the urge to hide or lash out, my mother always told me, we can become Pippin and Merry. They never ignored what had happened to them, but they were malleable and receptive to change. They became civic leaders and great storytellers; they we able to turn all that fear and anger and grief into narratives that others could delight in and learn from, and they used the skills they had learned in battle to protect their homeland. They were fortified by what had happened to them, they wore it armor and used it to their advantage. It is our trauma that turns us into guardians, my mother told me, it is suffering that strengthens our skin and softens our hearts, and if we learn to live with the ghosts of what had been done to us, we just may be able to save others from the same fate.” ― S.T. Gibson “I simply broke under the weight of thousand tense nights, a thousand thoughtless, soul-stripping words.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You must never overthink any good and pleasurable thing.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Desire makes idiots of all of us. But you already knew that part, didn't you?” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Fairy tales are more than moral lessons and time capsules for cultural commentary; they are natural law. The child raised on folklore will quickly learn the rules of crossroads and lakes, mirrors and mushroom rings. They’ll never eat or drink of a strange harvest or insult an old woman or fritter away their name as though there’s no power in it. They’ll never underestimate the youngest son or touch anyone’s hairpin or rosebush or bed without asking, and their steps through the woods will be light and unpresumptuous. Little ones who seek out fairy tales are taught to be shrewd and courteous citizens of the seen world, just in case the unseen one ever bleeds over.” ― S.T. Gibson “I never penetrated to the burning heart of you, only came away with empty, scorched fingers.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “It was grasping at a flame. I never penetrated to the burning heart of you, only came away with empty, scorched fingers.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “This felt cosmic, a piece of me was being excised so it could take up residence in you” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I saw every soft moment we had shared flicker over your face, and you were so beautiful. Desperate, vulnerable. Fear for your life made you look a man who could really love and be loved, you might hand over your heart and all its secrets without my having to crack your ribs open to get to them.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You usually looked at us we were hoards of gold, precious and rarefied. But now you looked at me the way you looked at one of your books. you were draining me of all useful knowledge before tossing me aside.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Sometimes, when I walk through the city, I get a crawling feeling on the back of my neck that compels me to turn around. Sometimes, I think I see your face in the crowd, only for an instant, before you’re swept away by the masses once again.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I wanted to dash myself against your rocks a wave, to obliterate my old self and see what rose shining and new from the sea foam. The only words I had to describe you in those early days were plunging cliffside or primordial sea, crystal-cold stars or a black expanse of sky. I dove down deep i nto your psyche, turning over every world you gave me a jewel. Looking for meaning, seeking out the mysteries of you. I didn’t care if I lost myself in the process. I wanted to be brought by the hand into your world and disappear into your kiss until us two could no longer be told apart.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You taught us to never feel guilty, to revel when the world demands mourning” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “ Christ, I had become intimately acquainted with violence and the sins of the world, but I had not come away unblemished.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I suspect, Lord, that when you combed the constellations for my elements, the stardust was still rife with the ghosts of fallen angels. I can hear that darkness tapping at my ribs and what’s worse, I’ve learned to sleep through the sound.” ― S.T. Gibson “Laying with her made me feel so vibrantly alive. It was almost enough to make me forget that I was already dead.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I sensed pure, exquisite violence behind your kiss, a desire to rend and devour that reminded me more of a wolf than a man. Your hunger for me was always more apparent under the cover of darkness, when you didn’t have to arrange your face into any semblance of civility.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I am trying to tell you why I did what I did. It is the only way I can think to survive and I hope, even now, that you would be proud of my determination to persist. God. Proud. Am I sick to still think on you softly, even after all the blood and broken promises?” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “To those who escaped a love death, and to those still caught in its grasp: you are the heroes of this story” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I never dreamed it would end this, my lord: your blood splashing hot flecks onto my nightgown and pouring in rivulets onto our chamber floor. But creatures us live a long time. There is no horror left in this world that can surprise me. Eventually, even your death becomes its own sort of inevitability.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was tired of being your Magdalene. I was tired of waiting expectantly at your tomb every night for you to rise and bring light into my world once again.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “At the time, I would have called it proof of your love, burning and all-consuming. But I've grow to understand that you have more of the scientist obsessed than the love possessed in you, and that your examinations lend themselves more towards a scrutiny of weakness, imperfection, any detail in need of your corrective care.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You could never resist a survivor. Or a mirror.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was tired of the circumference of the whole universe living in your circled arms, of the spark of life hiding in your kiss, of the power of death lying in wait in your teeth.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “(...) I was still optimistic. I still wanted to believe I was living in a fairy tale, that I laid down every night with a prince instead of a wolf. I wanted to believe you.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “How freely he offered himself up! All the enthusiasm of youth with non of the wisdom and caution of age.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “In this world, you are what I say you are, and I say you are a ghost, a long night’s fever dream that I have finally woken up from. I say you are the smoke-wisp memory of a flame, thawing ice suffering under an early spring sun, a chalk ledger of debts being wiped clean.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You kissed me. Punishingly, until my lips were bruised, until there was scarcely any air left in my lungs. The force of your love nearly drove me to my knees. I was no woman, I was merely a supplicant, a pilgrim who had stumbled across your dark altar and was doomed to worship at it forever.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “No matter. Nothing else will do. Nothing less than a full account of our life together, from the trembling start all the way to the brutal end. I fear I will go mad if I don’t leave behind some kind of record. If I write it down, I won’t be able to convince myself that none of it happened. I won’t be able to tell myself that you didn’t mean any of it, that it was all just some terrible dream.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “My nights are full of long walks and the scent of ocean breezes and the sound of people singing. Sometimes, I hear your voice in my dreams and I wake with a start, but I’m getting better at soothing myself back to sleep these days. Perhaps in time I will stop asking God for his forgiveness. Perhaps I will be able to uncurl the defenses around my heart and let someone see me the way you saw me: vulnerable and naked and totally trusting. I have one final promise to make to you, one I will never break. I promise to live, richly and shamelessly and with my arms wide open to the world. If there was any part left of you at the end that wished for our great happiness, that truly wanted what was best for us, I think it would be pleased to hear me say it. I do not know if I have justified my choice to you, but I think I have justified it to myself, and that has brought me peace enough.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Appropriate. The absurdity of the word struck me and I almost scoffed aloud. What, if anything, in our life was appropriate? We killed to live, we lied and cheated and took lovers, we slipped from town to town ghosts, draining the populace of their money and blood before moving on. Not a month ago we had brought two young men home with us from the streets and taken our pleasure with them before draining them dry in our wedding bed. I had given up appropriate when I had given up my ability to eat mortal food, to walk abroad in the sun.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was tired of being your Magdalene. I was tired of waiting expectantly at your tomb every night for you to rise and bring light into my world once again. I was tired of groveling on my knees and washing blood off your heels with my hair and tears. I was tired of having the air sucked out of my lungs every time your eyes cut right to the heart of me. I was tired of the circumference of the whole universe living in your circled arms, of the spark of life hiding in your kiss, of the power of death lying in wait in your teeth. I was tired of carrying around the weight of a love worship, of the sickly-warm rush of idolatry coloring my whole world. I was tired of faithfulness. I made you into my private Christ, supplicated with my own dark devotions. Nothing existed beyond the range of your exacting gaze, not even me. I was simply a non-entity when you weren't looking at me, an empty vessel waiting to be filled by the sweet water of your attention. A woman can't live that, my lord. No one can. Don't ask me why I did it. God, forgive me. Christ, forgive me.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You filled me with your loving guidance, stitched up my seams with tread in your favorite color, taught me how to walk and talk and smile in whatever way pleased you best. I was so happy to be your marionette, at first. So happy to be chosen.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “(...) but the melancholy always came back, calling on her an unwelcome old lover disrupting a wedding.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I kissed you the way you had bitten me all those years ago; mercilessly, until you were panting. I pinned you between my thighs and kissed you I was trying to get back at you for something, I would never kiss you again. I fit all the love and hate my soul had endured for so many years into that kiss.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “There will only be sweetness and kindheartedness, and a hundred years of bliss.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “You must forgive me. You had overstepped so many of my boundaries and left me so little of my own privacy that it didn’t seem unfair for me to deny you a little of yours.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “She kissed me with a martyr’s agonized desperation, I was the only sword she ever wanted to fall on. I kissed her right back the cutting edge of a blade, trying to inflict as much damage as possible.” ― S.T. Gibson, An Education in Malice “I knew then I would chase your tiny moments of weakness all the way into hell and back. What is more lovely, after all, than a monster undone with wanting?” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Eventually, even your death becomes its own sort of inevitability.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “He's a sickness... Being around him is burning up with fever. I know I'm not well, but I'm too delirious to do anything.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “In this world, you are what I say you are, and I say you are a ghost, a long night's fever dream that I have finally woken up from. I say you are the smoke-wisp memory of a flame, thawing ice suffering under an early spring sun, a chalk ledger of debts being wiped clean. I say you do not have a name.” ― S.T. Gibson “Power, of course. To know oneself, one's limits and abilities, is its own power. To know how one may best subdue another with similar abilities is another.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was tired of groveling on my knees and washing blood off your heels with my hair and tears. I was tired of having the air sucked out of my lungs every time your eyes cut right to the heart of me. I was tired of the circumference of the whole universe living in your circled arms, of the spark of life hiding in your kiss, of the power of death lying in wait in your teeth. I was tired of carrying the weight of a love worship, of the sickly-warm rush of idolatry coloring my whole world. I was tired of faithfulness.” ― S.T. Gibson “After that whole debate with the Harkers he was sullen for months.” “Who are the Harkers?” “Before your time dear, just some dreadful Victorians.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I met your eyes. So very black, I could fall into them and never find my way out again.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “(...) all my carefully crafted excuses for you dissolved sugar under absinthe, revealing a truth I had spent centuries avoiding.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “We are children of the same rotten family, survivors of the same intimate war. We will always be lovers, forever bonded, across distance and time.” ― S.T. Gibson, An Encore of Roses “He looked a lithe young Christ, crucified between two beautiful women with you as his cross.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “It was never my intention to murder you. Not in the beginning, anyway.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was tired of being your Magdalene. I was tired of waiting expectantly at your tomb every night for you to rise and bring light into my world once again. I was tired of groveling on my knees and washing blood off your heels with my hair and tears. I was tired of having the air sucked out of my lungs every time your eyes cut right to the heart of me. I was tired of the circumference of the whole universe living in your circled arms, of the spark of life hiding in your kiss, of the power of death lying in wait in your teeth. I was tired of carrying around the weight of a love worship, of the sickly-warm rush of idolatry coloring my whole world. I was tired of faithfulness. I made you into my private Christ, supplicated with my own dark devotions. Nothing existed beyond the range of your exacting gaze, not even me. I was simply a none-entity when you weren't looking at me, an empty vessel waiting to be filled by the sweet water of your attention. A woman can't live that, my lord. No one can. Don't ask me why I did it. God, forgive me. Christ, forgive me.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Even if you were sunlight itself, I would still scorch myself to be close to you.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “She was even more beautiful this, when she didn't veil her emotions behind formality. Helvig would never have guessed that a girl who seemed carved from ice would melt over something as silly as a common deer.” ― S.T. Gibson, Robbergirl “I knew very well what she was seeing for the first time: crow-black eyes above a strong, imperious nose and a mouth shaped a declaration of war.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Loving something doesn’t mean that you own it.” ― S.T. Gibson, Robbergirl “I would carry that viper inside me for years, letting it out intermittently to rip the wicked to pieces. But that day, I had not yet befriended the serpent within. It seemed to me a strange interloper, a frightening thing, demanding to be fed.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “How can I blame you for wanting her, my lord, when I wanted her so badly myself?” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Laying with her made me feel so vibrantly alive. It was almost enough to make me forget I was already dead.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “There are no angels in this world to accompany the dying in their final moments, only pickpockets and carrion birds.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was slipping so fast into a heady, dark maelstrom of jealousy and want.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I wanted to crawl between whatever was blossoming between the two of you and live there. This was my home too, I wanted to shout.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “She looked she had just stepped out of an opium dream, all blown pupils and reddened mouth. “Your excellency,” I breathed, my heart suddenly in” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I didn't know where we were going, but I knew we had the whole world ahead of us and certain death behind us. There was nowhere to go but forward.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Water your mother's flowers with their blood.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “People aren't meant to live forever. I know that now.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I was no woman; I was merely a supplicant, a pilgrim who had stumbled across your dark altar and was doomed to worship at it for ever. I don’t know what I had been thinking, supposing I was strong enough to leave.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “But even a life of perfect leisure was not enough to soothe her desire for true freedom. She wanted, above all, a life unshackled to convention or even the people she loved, and so her light began to dim once again.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “Stories make living tolerable for even the most wretched creatures,” ― S.T. Gibson, Robbergirl “What is more lovely, after all, than a monster undone with wanting?” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood “I never dreamed it would end this, my lord: your blood splashing hot flecks onto my nightgown and pouring in rivulets onto our bedchamber floor. But creatures us live a long time. There is no horror left in this world that can surprise me. Eventually, even your death becomes its own sort of inevitability.” ― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood
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