Haunts and Hellions Excerpt

It's been a really long time since I've posted and plenty of things have happened in that time, the most important being that I'm happier than ever before. Staying in the swing of things, keeping up with every obligation, is difficult, but I'm trying. 

I'm hoping to get back into posting on here, writing more very short stories. That's in the days to come. I thought a good way to get back into posting here would be to start off with an excerpt from a short story of mine that has been published in an amazing collection. Haunts and Hellions is one of a few anthologies I have now been published in and I'm hoping to talk about all of those soon. But this post is about my story, "Lady of Graywing Manor." I wrote this story specifically for Haunts and Hellions, hoping it would be accepted. 

Somehow, that hope came true. 

The best way to describe this collection of stories is, well, what's written on the back of the book. I can't say it any better than that. 

"Harkening back to the glory days of gothic romance that had us up reading all night, we present, Haunts and Hellions… 13 stories of horror, romance, and that perfect moment when the two worlds collide. Vengeful spirits attacking the living, undead lovers revealing their true nature, and supernatural monsters seeking love, await you. Pull the blinds closed, light your candle, and cuddle up in your reading nook for some chilling—and romantic—tales." 

If that interests you, read on. If you aren't sure, read on anyway. You might be surprised! 

No more jabber from me. Please, enjoy. 

 

An excerpt from Haunts & Hellions

 

Lady of Graywing Manor

Emily Blue

1840

 

Northern England                            

The thin, constant rain had turned the trail to mud by the time Clara glimpsed a light in the distance. She shivered, clutching shut the hood of her overcoat around her face. Even her teeth were cold, like icicles when her tongue glanced over them. Her tongue was the last part of her warmth. She breathed through her nose to keep the wind from snuffing it out.

Her boots stuck in the mud, each step a struggle to wrench free. The light refused to come closer. Despair weighed her further, heavy on her shoulders. She would never arrive. And what awaited her if she finally did? Streaming ribbons of cloud obscured the stars, and she was thankful because it seemed to her the stars mocked her each night for her lack of a roof overhead.

Licking her lips, she tasted the rain and her tears. The wind picked up, sweeping leaves across the mud road and high into the air. The curtain of rain parted and the façade of a building showed through the gap. The roof spiked in a series of towers, like the stiff peaks of meringue on her favorite desserts. Sharp, clean shadows hinted at ornate structures, buttresses and pillars and curved railings. The light she had seen earlier came from a hexagonal cupola, surrounded by iron cresting.

Her fragile hopes lifted. A mansion would have plenty of places for her to hide for the night. If there was a stable, it likely wouldn’t leak. The straw would be clean and warm.

Clara trudged forward, heart pounding. A portion of the shadows resolved into the shape of a fence. It didn’t look too difficult to climb but as she neared, she realized there was no need. She could fit through the gaps easily. She pushed through, a little puzzled, but relieved. The fence was more for show than function.

The land between fence and manor was mostly flat, with only a few scattered flowerbeds, leaving her little to hide behind. She bent over, trying to make herself as small as possible.

The figure of a man appeared around the side of the mansion. Clara swore under her breath and dropped onto her knees in the grass. The man angled in his walk, cutting across the grass in her direction.

Clara leaped to her feet and started to run.

A hand grabbed her shoulder from behind. She squeaked and whirled, throwing her hands out in front of herself, scrabbling at the broad chest of the man holding onto her.

A second man looked down at her and blinked slowly.

“You have no reason to be afraid,” he said, his voice curiously monotone. His face matched his voice, smoothed free of emotion.

“Wh-what?” Clara sputtered. The first man continued his approach until he stood only a short distance away. She jerked her head, looking back and forth between them.. “I’m sorry I trespassed. It was a mistake. I’ll be going.”

“You are welcome here.” He released her shoulder and gestured to the manor.

“Welcome?” She wasn’t welcome anywhere. “I don’t understand.”

“She knows you’re coming.” The first man inclined his head toward the manor. His arms dangled limply at his side. “She is waiting for you in the upstairs parlor.”

“She? She who?” Clara shook her head. She backed away from the strange men, trembling. She didn’t like the way they looked at her. Their faces were like corpses, but their eyes. Their black eyes. Something was looking at her through those eyes. “I need to get going.”

“The lady of the manor,” the first man said, as if that explained anything. “She knows a weary traveler approaches. She has tea brewing for you, and will have dessert sent. She will be disappointed if you leave.”

 

To read more, read Haunts and Hellions at: Amazon.com