I am writing a short horror story. Here is a preview I am turning it into an audio book as well with my voice.
It will be available on Amazon before Halloween! Enjoy.
Emma’s world was a tapestry woven with threads of solitude and creativity, and her Victorian mansion stood as a towering monument to both. This architectural marvel, a symphony of intricate details and grandeur, was more than just a dwelling — it was a living, breathing extension of her soul. It wasn’t merely a house; it was her sanctuary, her cocoon where she could retreat from the cacophony of the outside world and dive deep into the ocean of her imagination.
The mansion itself was a masterpiece frozen in time, its imposing façade an elegant dance between history and beauty. Its towering spires kissed the sky, and its windows, like curious eyes, peered out onto the world with a quiet dignity. Ivy vines clung lovingly to the aged bricks, creating a harmonious marriage between nature and architecture. The sprawling gardens that embraced the mansion added a touch of enchantment, as if they held whispered secrets of generations past.
Stepping through the grand entrance, one was instantly transported to another era. The foyer was a grand gallery of memories, with antique furniture that bore witness to countless stories. A majestic chandelier dangled from above, casting a warm glow that accentuated the intricate woodwork and vintage portraits that adorned the walls. The floors creaked gently underfoot, a reminder that every inch of the mansion had a story to tell.
Emma’s affinity for relics from bygone eras was evident in every corner of the mansion. Each room was a chapter from a history book, with artifacts thoughtfully placed to invoke a sense of wonder. In the cozy corner of the living room, an ornate gramophone rested, its brass horn a portal to melodies of yesteryears. A delicate porcelain tea set, passed down through generations, held court on a sunlit windowsill, its intricate floral patterns telling tales of afternoon teas and whispered confidences.
But it was the study, Emma’s inner sanctum, that truly held the heart of the mansion. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls, bearing the weight of leather-bound tomes that spanned centuries. The scent of old parchment and ink mingled in the air…
