The Haunting at Blackwood Hall
Author: Barrymore
Tebbs
Genre: Historical fiction, Paranormal, Thriller, Romance, Suspense, Mystery
Publisher: self-published
Type: Ebook
Words: approx. 63,000
Genre: Historical fiction, Paranormal, Thriller, Romance, Suspense, Mystery
Publisher: self-published
Type: Ebook
Words: approx. 63,000
Purchase:
Amazon.com | Barnes and Noble
Amazon.com | Barnes and Noble
Summary
Blackwood Hall is a house shrouded in silence. Nine-year-old
Alice Fenn communicates only through her music. Jonathan Fenn and his sister
Judith guard a terrifying family secret. The servants refuse to discuss the
mysterious disappearance of a former governess. A drawing room séance attempts
to make contact with the spirit of Elizabeth Blackwood. And when a diabolic
madman holds the residents of Blackwood Hall hostage to an insidious reign of
terror, governess Claire Ashby finds herself in a living nightmare of drug
addiction, pagan rituals, and murder.
In the tradition of the great Gothic Romances, The Haunting
at Blackwood Hall is a thrilling ghost story brimming with bold new twists on
the beloved conventions of a bygone era.
Excerpt:
Excerpt:
It was early, but I felt myself
growing sleepier by the moment. I hadn’t been given laudanum since I was a
child, and the effects were completely foreign to me. My vision grew dim, and I
found I could barely hold up my head. Alice, bless her heart, came to me and
pecked me lightly on the cheek, then made an effort of drawing a blanket over
me.
I fell into a strange and
troubled sleep. I dreamed of a line of monks marching solemnly through the
ruined abbey by moonlight. Their torches cast dancing shadows against the
crumbling stone walls. Then, I saw a rider on horseback, a proud black stallion
which I recognized as Nigel Kent’s mount, only the face of the rider was an
ugly, twisted visage like the face on Alice’s doll. Alice was there as well,
and her mother came and took her by the hand and the two of them disappeared
behind a stone arch and Alice was lost to me forever.
I struggled up from the nightmare
and looked about the room. Alice was asleep and the fire had died down low. It
must have been the dead of night. But I distinctly heard the sound of the door
handle turning, and when the person on the other side of the door realized it
was locked, the handle began to shake and rattle so loudly and with such force
I thought the door would be torn asunder.
“Stop it! Stop it!” I yelled, and
with great difficulty I hauled myself from the bed. The moment I was on my feet
the shaking of the door ceased abruptly. I went to the door and laid my ear
against it. I listened for a moment, but heard neither dog nor man on the other
side of the door.
Satisfied that what I had heard
was only a figment of my imagination, or the remnants of that horrid nightmare
clinging tenaciously to my mind, I turned to go back to bed…
…And distinctly heard the sound of footsteps running down the hall.
Author:
…And distinctly heard the sound of footsteps running down the hall.
Author:
Barrymore Tebbs is a
photographer and writer living in Cincinati, Ohio. His writing draws on a long
Gothic tradition from the cult TV classic Dark Shadows and Hammer Films, to
20th Century Gothic writers known for deep psychological undercurrents such as
Shirley Jackson, Daphne Du Maurier, and Thomas Tryon, to create the
Psychological Gothic, all served with a liberal dose of black humor. Very
black. He is the author of Night
of the Pentagram, The Yellow Scarf, and the psychological thriller Black
Valentines.
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