It’s the most wonderful time of the year—the crisp fallen leaves are primed for crunching, the jack-o-lanterns are all aglow, and the countdown to Halloween is in its waning days. Though I’ve always loved spooky season and all things dark and unusual, I have an uneasy alliance with actually being scared. To say I startle easily is the understatement of the century; be it my naturally jumpy disposition or lackluster peripheral vision, I’ve been known to actually scream if someone approaches too quietly or rounds a corner unexpectedly.
It’s hard not to be a little on edge this time of year when you’re a bit of a sensitive soul. As a kid growing up in the early aughts, the terror began at home, where threatening chain mail and jump-scare screamers lurked from the family computer. Costume shopping meant descending into our local store's ghoulishly decorated basement, avoiding the pressure-activated mats that shrieked when you stepped on them.
Once Halloween finally arrived, I had a new archenemy to contend with: our neighbor’s backyard cemetery display, fitted with a fog machine and cackling animatronics. But the worst feature of the decor was the ominous shape of a seated man—my neighbor himself, who'd sit stock-still, slumped in a lawn chair and cradling a bowl of candy. Unmoving, that is, until approached; only then would he launch from his perch, sending trick-or-treaters reeling. After witnessing the terror of retreating children, I opted to instead stop dead at the chainlink fence surrounding this living nightmare, burying my face in my dad’s neck as he carried me safely through the yard to claim a handful of conciliatory candy.
It wasn't the decor I was afraid of, knowing full well the spiderwebs and headstones were nothing but plastic and styrofoam. I feared the scare itself, the anticipation of abrupt movement, and the hot tears and thundering heartbeat that inevitably followed. To this day, even as I've come around to horror in all its shades, I don't particularly enjoy jump scares. And there's no shame in that—Halloween is for everyone, from the ultimate thrill-seekers to those who prefer a milder form of frights. If you, too, have a bit of a scaredy-cat streak, these spooky-but-not-too-startling listens are the perfect companions for a blustery autumn night and a big ol' bowl of candy corn.
Horror newcomers who prefer the creepy and atmospheric to jump scares and body horror will revel in Shirley Jackson’s masterpiece of classic gothic fiction. Young protagonist Mary Katherine “Merricat” Blackwood lives with her agoraphobic older sister Constance and her peculiar Uncle Julian in an estate removed from the rest of the local villagers. Neighbors taunt the Blackwoods for a dark chapter in their family history, one that saw the rest of the clan killed by a bowl of poisoned sugar. The tragedy left a deep divide, cutting the sisters off from their community entirely. But Merricat doesn’t mind—their home is a safe place, their odd rituals a comfort that the outside world could never provide. But when a newcomer arrives, long-hidden secrets come to life. Merricat’s POV brings a deliciously spooky (but not too scary!) air to the story, which doubles as a thoughtful meditation on isolation, abuse, and guilt. In her measured timbre, voice actor Bernadette Dunne captures the story’s atmosphere, lending an uncanny performance to this most curious tale.
I first read Rebecca in my sophomore year of high school as part of an assignment on gothic literature, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Daphne du Maurier’s masterpiece begins with the chill-inducing line, “Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again,” immediately establishing the sweeping, eerie estate on which the novel is set. From there, du Maurier drums up mounting intrigue through the voice of our unnamed narrator, a young woman who falls fast for widower Maxim de Winter. They marry quickly, but before long, the second Mrs. de Winter learns that Maxim’s first wife, Rebecca, still looms large, haunting the narrative and Manderley alike. English actress Anna Massey’s performance is exquisite, unfolding every dark, gloomy twist with finesse. (And once you’re done listening, Alfred Hitchcock’s 1940 Best Picture-winning adaptation starring Laurence Olivier and Joan Fontaine makes for the perfect addition to any not-too-spooky movie marathon.)
Growing up, I was both enamored with and deeply unsettled by all things Goosebumps. Our family must have rented the VHS tapes for the television adaptations of The Werewolf of Fever Swamp and The Haunted Mask well over a dozen times each. Though you might bemoan R.L. Stine’s spooky stories as mere kid stuff, they can be surprisingly spine-chilling—Slappy the Dummy still gives me heebie-jeebies decades later. Settle in with the kooky camp of one of the Classic Goosebumps audiobooks if you’re looking for a fun thrill ride that won’t leave you sleeping with the lights on.
Speaking of nostalgia—calling all my fellow scaredy-cat millennials who tuned into Are You Afraid of the Dark? despite needing to watch from behind their fingers! Ghost Stories is the perfect way to replicate the gathered-around-the-campfire frights of the Midnight Society, with a more mature, literary flair. The incomparable Stephen Fry lends his voice to this collection of classic ghost stories, from the likes of legendary writers including Washington Irving, Bram Stoker, and Edgar Allan Poe. Sound design and Dolby Atmos spatial audio elevate this listen to new heights, making it a great alternative to a scary movie marathon for the more tender among us. (And because it's an anthology, you can always skip ahead to the next story if you’re feeling uneasy!)
Growing up, the 1998 rom-com adaptation of Alice Hoffman’s Practical Magic was a staple in my household, best enjoyed with a mountain of refrigerated sugar cookie dough rounds emblazoned with pumpkins and black cats. The book series is a perfect choice for any sensitive souls who want a bit of witchcraft that’s as feel-good as it is spooky-season appropriate. Sisters Sally and Gillian Owens have spent their entire lives trying to outrun their magical history and fit in with the rest of their community. Alas, there’s no evading destiny, and the sisters are forced to embrace their whole, spellbinding selves in order to break an intergenerational curse that’s plagued their family for centuries. Narrator Christina Moore’s cozy, gentle storytelling makes the audio edition all the better for pairing with a warm blanket and some freshly brewed tea.
Listeners rejoice: Ray Bradbury’s exceptional, hypnotic Something Wicked This Way Comes has a brand-new recording—and it’s narrated by the one and only Paul Giamatti, who brings an electrifying new air to this feverish, musical story that will well and truly absorb you. While there are some scary moments throughout (it is about an evil carnival ringleader intent on claiming the lives and minds of susceptible patrons, after all), it’s not so blood-curdling as to ward off more sensitive listeners. If you’re feeling a bit brave, this story is well worth the listen; Bradbury’s poetic prose truly sings, and you’ll be quickly swept away by rich language and themes of coming-of-age, loneliness, and desire.
Cassandra Peterson is the undisputed Queen of Halloween. In this endlessly charming memoir, the Mistress of the Dark gets real about her Hollywood career, from her rural origins to achieving cult icon status as comedy horror hostess Elvira. For sensitive souls who like their spooky content with a fair helping of humor and heart, this is the witching hour listen for you. Need further convincing? Look no further than my colleague Kat’s glowing review: “Her new memoir cements her legacy—a scrappy and hilarious collection of insider tales from a woman who knew everyone and did everything her way. When she was just a year old, Peterson pulled a pot of boiling water onto herself, burning much of her body and transforming her outlook forever. The farm kid from Kansas was destined for a different life, and in the company of her inimitable voice, you’ll hear allllll about it, in devilish detail. At a time when women were supposed to choose between being funny or sexy, Elvira was brilliant at both—and she still is.“
Speaking of sexy, if a little spice is helpful in distracting from all the spiderwebs and skeletons, we have the perfect fix for you. (And no, we’re not talking about pumpkin spice, if you catch our drift.) Indulge in some tricks and treats with Scared Sexy, a collection of Halloween-appropriate short romances from genre heavy-hitters like Ali Hazelwood, Christina Lauren, and Ruby Dixon. From “Hot for Slayer,” an enemies-to-lovers, forbidden romance story following vampire Aethelthryth and slayer Lazlo, to “My Boyfriends Are All Monsters,” a light-hearted joyride where protagonist Lucy Sawyer has a whole town of swoon-worthy supernatural suitors to choose from, this anthology of paranormal romances is a ghastly good time. And with more than 10 narrators bringing Scared Sexy to life, this listen is all the more engaging.
There are few names more synonymous with the mystery genre than Agatha Christie. Her stories are perfect for the squeamish and easily scared; while plot subversions and tension abound, there is little in the way of gore or pure terror. And sure, you could queue up one of her unbeatable classics like And Then There Were None or Murder on the Orient Express, but it doesn’t get more on-theme than her 1969 Poirot mystery Hallowe’en Party. Hugh Fraser, who portrayed Captain Hastings in the long-running television drama Agatha Christie’s Poirot, again lends his talents to Christie’s most beloved detective series in this mystery that unfolds at a Halloween party. After a teenage girl who brags of once witnessing a murder turns up drowned in the apple-bobbing tub, Poirot is called upon to get to the bottom of the case, navigating the uncanny world of the occult in the process.
Though October is most associated with all things Halloween, it's also the perfect time to dive into a warm, cuddly cozy fantasy. Or you can get the best of both worlds with Sangu Mandanna’s endlessly bewitching The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches, a fuzzy, heartfelt fantasy following Mika Moon, a British witch who knows well that she must hide her abilities, keep a low profile, and steer clear of her fellow witches to avoid drawing attention. But being alone gets lonesome, and Mika finds herself beckoned toward a new adventure promising the magic of connection. Named one of our 100 fantasy essentials, this uplifting gem (and its new sequel!) are made all the more magnificent by pitch-perfect narrator Samara MacLaren.
Thanatophobia—the fear of death—is among the most common anxieties faced by our species. And it’s no wonder why—the end of our time on this plane of existence (not to mention the question of what happens after we close our eyes for that final time) is as incomprehensible as it is utterly terrifying. It’s a fear that I’ve contended with myself over the years, and it’s one that is front-of-mind every Halloween season as slashers and skeletons lay bare our mortality. But if there’s anyone who can lighten up a rather grim subject matter, it’s science writer Mary Roach. In Stiff, Roach brings her trademark sense of humor and academic eye to the dark reality not only of death but the journey our bodies take after we’ve expired, from the cadavers used to vet NASA shuttles to those that have made all the difference in medicinal discoveries.
Though many use “weenie” as a pejorative, I’m of the mind that the anxious among us [raises hand] should just go ahead and embrace it with a whole lot of pride and a dash of self-deprecation. After all, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with liking what you like and avoiding what makes you uncomfortable or ill-at-ease. That said, being afraid of something certainly doesn’t mean you’re immune to being curious about it. Culture writer Emily C. Hughes wields her horror expertise to offer the easily frightened a primer on the history of major horror flicks, from The Blair Witch Project to Get Out and everything in between. Peppered with humor to lighten the content matter, this is a must-have for any movie aficionados who would like to avoid gore and jump scares without missing out on the larger cultural conversations surrounding the best in horror.
Prefer to steer clear of horror entirely? Sometimes, a good suspense story can scratch the same itch without a single scare. Audible’s own The Widows series offers entertainment and fast-paced thrills in equal measure, and the third installment, Wicked Wanted Widows, is certainly no exception. Enlivened by a full cast, this audio adventure finds heroines Krystle, Justine, and Camille on the quest to thwart an art heist and rescue their friend in the process. There’s a witchy flair to this one, too: set in 1980s New England, this listen muses on the region’s underworld and more dismal history, including the Salem Witch trials. A team of writers—Kimberly Belle, Vanessa Lillie, and Cate Holahan—infuse this quirky, zigzagging nail-biter with true heart, grounding every moment in the power of love and friendship.
Despite the ominous, thematic appeal of a listening list of 13, I’ve gone ahead and picked just one more title here for any folks who might be uneasy about that less-than-lucky number. Bunnicula and Friends is an outrageously adorable, kooky kidlit series centered on the titular vampiric bunny. But not to worry: Bunnicula isn’t a blood-sucking fiend, just a sweet little rabbit with a habit of sucking the juice out of vegetables. That doesn’t stop fellow household pets Harold and Chester from assuming the critter has nefarious intent. Actor Victor Garber brings joy and whimsy to this sweet and silly Halloween treat perfect for all ages. (Or, for older listeners looking for a bit of mystery with their seasonally-appropriate animal tales, check out a homey, cheerful cozy featuring adorable critters, like Steeped to Death or Be My Ghost.)
