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The Ashworth Manor had been dying for a hundred years, but it died most dramatically in the summer of 1963, when Cassandra found her grandfather's journal and read the last page and understood, too late, that some curses are not curses at all.The house sat on a hill outside a town nobody could find on a map, surrounded by oak trees that were older than the family that lived in the house, surrounded by humidity that hung in the air like a wet blanket. Cassandra had inherited it from her father, Ezekiel, who had inherited it from his father, Silas, who had inherited it from a man whose name Cassandra had forgotten and didn't want to...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 22 Views 0 previzualizare
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The book was found in my parents' garage after they moved to Florida. It was tucked behind old Christmas decorations, dog-eared and faded, with my grandfather's name on the cover: The Power of Confidence.I am Robert Hargrave. I am forty-five years old, and I manage a warehouse at a distribution center in a town in Ohio where the factory closed ten years ago and Main Street is half-empty. My wife, Linda, works double shifts at a hospital. Our daughter, Sarah, is sixteen and barely speaks to me anymore. My life is a series of days that blur together: wake up, commute, work, commute, eat, sleep,...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 18 Views 0 previzualizare
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The heat in the Delta did not announce itself. It simply arrived one morning like an uninvited guest and refused to leave. Silas Crawford stood in the overgrown cotton fields of Crawford Bend and watched the flies circle his grandfather's fresh grave.The old man had died in his sleep, his body curled on a bed that had belonged to his father and his father's father before him. The house that surrounded the bed was the same house Silas had grown up in, except that it was larger now, emptier, and full of things that reminded him of people who were no longer there. On the nightstand beside the bed, Silas found a piece of paper. His...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 9 Views 0 previzualizare
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The heat in the Delta did not announce itself. It simply arrived one morning like an uninvited guest and refused to leave. Silas Crawford stood in the overgrown cotton fields of Crawford Bend and watched the flies circle his grandfather's fresh grave.The old man had died in his sleep, his body curled on a bed that had belonged to his father and his father's father before him. The house that surrounded the bed was the same house Silas had grown up in, except that it was larger now, emptier, and full of things that reminded him of people who were no longer there. On the nightstand beside the bed, Silas found a piece of paper. His...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 33 Views 0 previzualizare
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The house on Prytania Street had been empty since the day my grandfather died, which was the day it stopped breathing.I know this sounds mad. I know that houses don't breathe. But I stood on the sidewalk and pressed my ear against the iron fence and heard it—a low, rhythmic sound like a giant sleeping in the cellar, and I knew then that the Thorne family had not merely lived in that house. The house had lived us. My name is Elias Thorne. I am twenty-nine years old, a lawyer from Chicago who came to New Orleans...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 11 Views 0 previzualizare
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The key arrived in a package from Mississippi with a return address that said nothing and a postmark from a town I'd never heard of. Inside the package: a brass key on a leather cord, and a note in my grandfather's hand.The key arrived in a package from Mississippi with a return address that said nothing and a postmark from a town I'd never heard of. Inside the package: a brass key on a leather cord, and a note in my grandfather's hand.Now you are the gatekeeper.I was in Frankfurt when I got it. The army had sent me on a training exercise, and I was supposed to be learning how to coordinate NATO logistics....0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 8 Views 0 previzualizare
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The letter arrived on a Tuesday in March, sealed with wax the color of dried blood. It bore no return address, only my name written in a hand I recognized from my grandfather's estate papers: Lady Eleanor Voss, c/o Hertford House, Mayfair.I had not expected correspondence from the dead. But my grandfather had been dead three years, and the solicitor had already distributed the jewels and the silver, so what else remained? He had been a solitary man in his later years—no wife, no children, no friends who visited. Only books, a collection of mathematical treatises, and a locked cabinet in his study that he carried with him...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 75 Views 0 previzualizare
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The magnolias at LeClair Manor had not bloomed in seven years. Beau sat on the veranda, watching kudzu consume the columns his grandfather had carved from live oak, and tried to remember what it felt like to belong to a house that belonged to someone.Louisiana heat pressed down like a wet wool blanket. Beau LeClair was thirty-one years old, the last son of a family that had once controlled ten thousand acres and three hundred souls, and currently controlled a debt of approximately forty thousand dollars and a house that was slowly sinking into the bayou beneath it. The device arrived in a plain wooden crate with no return address. Inside...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 45 Views 0 previzualizare
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The Weight of Her Grandfather's CoatThe box was locked, and the key was lost. That was Emma Sterling's first thought when she opened the cedar chest in the attic of her family's house in Hampstead. The second was that the air up here smelled like the house itself—old wood, lavender sachets, and the faint, metallic scent of money that has been sitting still for too long. The chest had been in the attic for at least seventy years....0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 7 Views 0 previzualizare
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The Golden CompassThe compass didn't point north. It never had. Arthur knew this the moment he found it, pressed into the lining of his grandfather's leather greatcoat -- a brass disc no larger than a sovereign, its face scratched and clouded with oxidation, the needle frozen at an angle that made no astronomical sense. He had been clearing out his flat in Kensington for three days already, the kind of work...0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 56 Views 0 previzualizare
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