It had been Peter’s promise of America that kept Mary going—the thought of a new life beyond servitude, beyond the endless polishing of silver and mending of lace.

“You are a listener too, child. The tree chose you for that.”   Elspeth blinked. “Chose me?”   “You hear what others forget. You believe in what breathes beneath the bark and behind the veil.”

This week, I invite you to step inside the misty world of Greystone Hall and spend a few moments with Annabelle Greystone.

Annabelle’s fingers fumbled for the matches. She lit a fresh candle with trembling hands and turned to face the figure forming in the mist.

“We survived a winter,” he had told her that morning, pressing a calloused hand against her cheek, “but it will take work to thrive in the

Johnathon's nightmares are back. What will they be tonight?

Thick fog shifted and swirled between the walls of the large stone house. A weak sun was feebly attempting to shine through