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When Lenore Devereaux loses her father,
she’s sent to live with her eccentric aunt. Leni wants to go off to college and
do what her father has always wanted her to do, but the mysteries of her
estranged mother’s family lead her to start unraveling the secrets long ago
lost and hidden away. Will she be able to find out who she really is while
living up to her father’s last wishes, or will the powers of the Crow Moon
claim her for itself?
Paranormal | New Adult | American
Gothic | Witches | Diverse | Witchcraft
$3.99 regular price
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Shawna
grew up around farms in the heart of Missouri but went to the University of
Kansas, was raised in the US but now lives on the ocean in Nova Scotia with her
husband, two sons, one rescue dog and one overgrown puppy from hell. She’s a
non-conformist who follows her heart.
She’s taught
English at the university and secondary levels for close to twenty years and
can’t quite fathom how all of her students have grown up, yet she’s managed to
stay the same. She’s a huge geek and fan of Xena, Buffy and all kick ass
women, and loves to write stories that have strong female characters.
"Let my heart be still a moment
and this mystery explore..."
Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven
Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven
The
day would’ve been dark and dreary enough on its own without the added task at
hand. How had it come to this? She stared straight ahead as she drove to her
new home to live with an aunt she’d never met. The charcoal clouds hung heavy
over the road, reminding her of how they looked just last week, the day of her
father’s funeral.
The
straight shot from the highway gave her nothing interesting to look at. Trees
were sparse. Some quiet farms popped up every now and then, but for the most
part I-70 lay straight and plain. Fields still cold and barren were iced with
the latest blanket of snow. Lazy windmills weren’t motivated enough to spin
without the wind egging them on. After taking the exit ramp though, the trees
filled out. Soon enough she made it to her aunt’s where things became more
interesting. Bentley Manor was off a lesser-known, less-traveled highway, and
sat up on a hill, staring menacingly down at the passers-by below as though to
say, “Keep driving. Nothing to see here,” though it was the most intriguing thing
she’d seen in the past forty-five minutes.
She
meandered up the winding, tree-canopy covered gravel drive to Bentley Manor.
Though she’d seen images of it on Google Street View, it was an experience in
person. The façade was a dark brick, a rusty red, and the crow’s nest sat on
the top lined with sharp, wrought-iron rails. Four majestic white columns
striped the front face, but two were closer than their counterparts, making the
front asymmetrical, off key. The thick woods of the state park crowded up to the
property on the left, and cleared farm fields stretched for acres on the right.
A large barn and some outbuildings stuck out to the side from behind the
mansion.
Two
thick, naked trees rose higher than the mansion itself, stripped of bark,
hacked by axes, and scarred by lightning. They stood, an angry guard, at the
front of the estate. One, using what few branches it had left, pointed
accusingly in the direction of the driveway at would-be guests.
Leni
fought back the urge to speed away with a deep breath and forced herself up the
crescent-shaped drive.
The
snow from last night dusted the cement stairs to the front door. There was a
cold January bite to the air. She tightened her blue and green plaid pea coat
snugly around her and gazed warily up at the front of the home.
She
knew of her mother’s family without having gone through the trouble of meeting
them. Her parents had told her about them at least. The Bentley’s were wealthy.
This was just one of the properties her grandparents had given their children.
She didn’t know what they did to earn such money. How was it that her mother’s
family could have multiple homes including this extravagant one? For most
people, one mansion in the family would be enough, but not the Bentleys.
The
front double doors burst open before she’d raised a hand to knock causing Leni
to jump back. A tall woman in her mid-forties with pale skin and dull, red hair
braided to hang down one side stood in the doorway. This had to be her aunt.
Leni could see shadows of her mother in this woman. They shared the same hair
color, the same green eyes, and of course, the same skin color. Leni pulled
back as apprehension seized her. She was suddenly cognizant of her black hair,
grey-green eyes, and dark skin. These were things she’d shared with her father,
and she’d had very little to do with anything of her mother’s once Debra had
walked out on them when Leni was only ten years old.
“Lenore?
I’ve been expecting you.”
***
