Devon Barnes and her best friend, Dante Granger, have just finished University and move into the third story flat in a gorgeous, newly renovated town house. The excitement of her first place soon wears off for Devon as she notices some strange things happening in the flat. Dante brushes it off as stress from the move and Devon’s new job, so she finds herself trying to work out what is happening alone. With only a two initials scribbled on a piece of paper, she sets out to find who ZJ and SM are. None of the neighbours seem to want to discuss the previous tenants, but when Devon overhears them gossiping about ‘poor Spencer Morgan’ she is halfway to discovering what is going on. Things take an unexpected turn as Dante starts to notice Devon acting out of character, and he is forced to face the truth – something out of the ordinary really is going on.

Love the creepy side of Japan? On the surface, all that people hear about Japan is their rich culture, and how weird some of their customs and inventions are. But aside from that, there is a darker side of Japan, including their unsettling urban legends. From different colored toilet paper to a poem that might curse you, this book will show you many of their urban legends are odd and downright creepy. And trust me, they will also show you yet another example of how weird Japan is. Oh, Japan... how I love you so much. The cover art is by an artist named Takato Yamamoto.

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.