Alistera swallowed down the bile that scorched the back of her throat.
“Do you mind if I open the window?”
Geoff raised an eyebrow, but didn’t take his eyes off the road. Alistera took it as assent, flicking thumb and index finger in a complicated gesture. The glass resisted for a moment, as if sensing her weakness, then melted away. She gulped, hoping the fresh air would stave off the nausea. Continue reading
So there I was, minding my own business, not bothering anyone. The front door and all the porch windows were flung wide, being one of those rare autumn days where New England had forgotten that Old Man Winter was lurking ‘round the corner. Continue reading
Ligeia watched as Calliope rummaged through the old sea chest, filled with forgotten remnants of other people’s lives. In the beginning, the pair had spent decades poring through its contents. More bored than curious, they’d made up wordless ghost stories about the misadventures of those who’d lived in the cottage before. Continue reading
“We need to talk.”
