Harkening back to the glory days of gothic romance that had us up reading all night, HorrorAddicts.net Press Presents:
Haunts & Hellions edited by Emerian Rich
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.
With stories by: Emily Blue, Lucy Blue, Kevin Ground, Rowan Hill, Naching T. Kassa, Emmy Z. Madrigal, R.L. Merrill, N.C. Northcott, Emerian Rich, Daniel R. Robichaud, Daphne Strasert, Tara Vanflower, and B.F. Vega.
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An excerpt from Haunts & Hellions
Companions
Daphne Strasert
1814
Hartwood Manor, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
Thomas Anderson Knox made the brief acquaintance of death on May 13, 1814.
A British bullet tore through his leg in a Pennsylvania field and the world turned to darkness. The tents and weapons of the battle became as insubstantial as mist. The soldiers of the living were replaced by those shadowy citizens that populate the world between life and death. Thomas hovered over the precipice of oblivion, tethered to life by a thin thread of fate, for the better part of a day, until finally he returned to the agony and confusion of mortality.
But he did not return alone.
***
The soldier stands in the corner of Thomas’s room, his musket held at attention. A young lad, no older than seventeen, with a thin face still marred by the blemishes of youth, he has a hole the size of a fist in his chest, allowing Thomas to see the sunrise through the window beyond.
“Lt. Knox?”
With difficulty, Thomas tears his gaze from the soldier standing sentry. A plump, middle aged woman stands in the doorway of the guest room he’s inhabited for the last few months, wringing her hands.
“Yes, Mrs. Tern?” he asks.
“Breakfast is ready, sir.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tern.”
Mrs. Tern’s gaze flickers to the corner, as if to ascertain what had held his attention so thoroughly, but, finding nothing, she curtsies and leaves the room.
Groping along the desk to retrieve his cane and heave himself to his feet, he hisses as he puts weight on his bad leg. The wound, now months old, has healed as well as it ever will, but the first few steps of the day are always painful. Still, he counts himself fortunate. Many lost their limbs. Even more died.
As he limps along the corridor of Hartwood Manor, the shadows flicker as if to follow. The halls are bright and cheerful in the morning sun, but darkness lingers under his footsteps. It always will.
The home of Dr. and Mrs. Hartwood is situated in the Pennsylvania countryside. After Thomas’s injury, he resided there along with a few other officers. He’s now the last one to linger in the Hartwood’s hospitality.
A different sort of shadow invades his sight as he passes the parlor. The door opens just a crack, the vision inside is enough to still his steps.
A young lady sits at the window. Blonde ringlets spill across her shoulders, golden against her creamy skin. A white dress accentuates her form. The morning light catches her profile—like a Greek goddess—just so, painting her across the room like a portrait of beauty.
Thomas waits for the span of a breath, for the beat of a heart, before moving on.
There are three rules in Hartwood Manor. First, do not leave the house after dark. Second, do not enter the North Wing of the house. Lastly, do not speak to the Hartwood’s daughter.
Helen. Oh, she is always Helen in his mind, though he would never dare to speak to her in so familiar a way. She is as beautiful as her namesake, a woman for whom he would wage a hundred wars.
To read more, read Haunts and Hellions at: Amazon.com