The Howler (Nightmare Room Series #7)

by R. L. Stine

Overview

You hold in your hand the key to a shadow world of shivers and screams. Take a step away from the safe, comfortable world you know. Unlock the door to terror. There's always room for one more in...The Nightmare Room.

Spencer Turner is a major electronics geek, and he's just purchased a cool new gadget called The Howler. It's supposed to allow Spencer to pick up the howls of ghosts and spirits. Spencer would love to communicate with the spirit world. He can't wait to see if it works. Unfortunately, Spencer soon hears his own howls of horror -- because when he turns on The Howler, he opens a channel to The Nightmare Room.

What will you find in The Nightmare Room next time? Check out book 8: Shadow Girl.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780061904530
Publisher:	HarperCollins
Publication date:	08/25/2009
Series:	Nightmare Room Series , #7
Sold by:	HARPERCOLLINS
Format:	eBook
Pages:	160
Sales rank:	733,082
File size:	389 KB
Age Range:	8 - 14 Years

About the Author

R.L. Stine has more than 350 million English language books in print, plus international editions in 32 languages, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written other series, including Fear Street, Rotten School, Mostly Ghostly, The Nightmare Room, and Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and his Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Minnie. Visit him online at rlstine.com.

Hometown:

New York, New York

Date of Birth:

October 8, 1943

Place of Birth:

Columbus, Ohio

Education:

B.A., Ohio State University, 1965

Website:

http://www.rlstine.com

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Do you believe in ghosts?

I didn't believe in them for most of my life. But ever since last winter, I want to believe.

It's my dream, my most important wish. I think about it every day.

I want to see a ghost. I want to talk to a ghost.

The ghost's name is Ian.

I remember every detail of that frosty cold day last December. The snow was deep, and it had a crust on top that crunched when we walked on it.

The sun hung low over the trees. It made the snow gleam like a sheet of silver. Snow clung to the branches of the evergreen trees, and the hedges were topped with blankets of white.

I remember the frozen air burning my cheeks. The fat, puffy clouds floating like snowmen high in the bright sky.

We carried our skates to Wellman Lake, a block from my house. It's not really a lake. It's only a pond. My friend Vanessa was there. We teased her about her pink snowsuit. Such a babyish color. She didn't care. She said it was made with real goose down and kept her very warm.

I remember Vanessa's red hair glowing in the sunlight. And the reflection of the snow in her green eyes.

Scott came along too. Chubby, red-faced Scott, with his black hair wild about his head like a furry hat.

He lives in the run-down old house next door to mine. He was bragging about his new CD player, and kicking snow on us, and telling dumb jokes.

Typical Scott.

I didn't invite Scott to join us. I don't like him very much. Neither does Vanessa.

He's so loud, and always bragging. And he always wants to pick fights and make bets about stupid things no one else cares about.

I think Scott has a specialradar. Or else he spies on my house all day. Because whenever I go out, there he is. He comes running from his house, ready to join in.

So there were four of us that day. My cousin Ian was the fourth. His family was staying with us for a few days before going on to Florida for Christmas.

I was happy to see him. Ian was my age, thirteen. And even though we didn't see each other very often, we always got along really well. We were like brothers.

Yes, I already have a brother. Big Jerk Nick.

Nick is three years older than me. And he treats me like an insect he wants to squash under his shoe.

Nick says that in every family, the big brother is the boss and the little brother is the slave. It sounds stupid, but Nick really believes it.

So, it's "Spencer, go to the kitchen and make me a sandwich." And "Spencer, I have to go out. Type this homework into the computer for me."

"Spencer, bring me a Coke. Spencer, go see who's at the door. Spencer, get a move on!"

Nick is a lot bigger than me. And he works out. And he's on the wrestling team at school. So I try very hard to stay out of his way.

And that's one reason I liked to think of Ian as a brother.

And now, just about every day, I remember Ian walking with us to the lake. His boots crunched on the crusty snow. And the ice skates I found for him bounced on the shoulders of his down vest as we trudged up the hill on Marlowe Street.

Ian looked a lot like me. Dark brown hair. Brown eyes. Serious face. Average height. Kind of skinny.

He had a lot of energy. He was always bouncing up and down and drumming his fingers on things. He couldn't stand or sit still for a minute.

I remember we were passing the low stone wall in front of the Faulkners' house. The top of the wall was iced up. Vanessa, Scott, and I started to walk beside it.

But Ian leaped onto the top of the wall. He did a crazy balancing act, slipping and sliding. His arms waved wildly above his head.

We screamed at him to jump down. But he only laughed. He was still laughing when he fell off. Luckily, he fell onto his back in a soft clump of snowcovered bushes.

Luckily.

Thinking about it now makes me feel really sad.

I guess that was the only lucky thing that happened that day.