Dettagli del libro
Formato
Kindle
Pagine
903
Lingua
Inglese
Pubblicato
Mar 24, 2026
Descrizione
If you're reading this, it means the Festival is close again.
It doesn’t arrive all at once.
It appears at the edges—towns not on any maps, bells that don’t finish ringing, and a hunger that never ends. By the time anyone understands what it is, the Festival is already inside the town.
And it doesn’t let everyone leave.
This complete trilogy includes all three books in the Festival
Festival
Festival II
Festival III
Harold has spent his life building worlds that vanish by morning—lights, laughter, the roar of rides. But when his carnival is invited into a hidden valley that shouldn’t exist, the longer the midway stays lit, the more the truth begins to surface.
People start to disappear.
Not the way drifters disappear on the road…
but the way something takes them—quietly, cleanly, like they were always meant to be part of the show.
The Festival is not new.
It has been here before.
It moves from place to place, changing names, changing faces, leaving behind disappearances, broken traditions, and stories no one finishes telling. What looks like celebration is repetition. What feels like coincidence is design.
And once it reaches you, leaving isn’t the same as escaping.
Because this isn’t entertainment.
It’s an invitation.
It’s a tradition.
It’s something older than the people who try to survive it.
And it is hungry.
Some places demand a price.
And some festivals exist for one reason—
to feed what’s been waiting in the dark.
For readers who prefer horror built on inevitability, not escape.
It doesn’t arrive all at once.
It appears at the edges—towns not on any maps, bells that don’t finish ringing, and a hunger that never ends. By the time anyone understands what it is, the Festival is already inside the town.
And it doesn’t let everyone leave.
This complete trilogy includes all three books in the Festival
Festival
Festival II
Festival III
Harold has spent his life building worlds that vanish by morning—lights, laughter, the roar of rides. But when his carnival is invited into a hidden valley that shouldn’t exist, the longer the midway stays lit, the more the truth begins to surface.
People start to disappear.
Not the way drifters disappear on the road…
but the way something takes them—quietly, cleanly, like they were always meant to be part of the show.
The Festival is not new.
It has been here before.
It moves from place to place, changing names, changing faces, leaving behind disappearances, broken traditions, and stories no one finishes telling. What looks like celebration is repetition. What feels like coincidence is design.
And once it reaches you, leaving isn’t the same as escaping.
Because this isn’t entertainment.
It’s an invitation.
It’s a tradition.
It’s something older than the people who try to survive it.
And it is hungry.
Some places demand a price.
And some festivals exist for one reason—
to feed what’s been waiting in the dark.
For readers who prefer horror built on inevitability, not escape.
Generi
Orrore