Haunted Historical Mystery Series, Book 3
Paranormal Thriller
Date Published: February 25, 2024
A blizzard rips through the Black Hills of South Dakota, as journalist Rachael embarks on a journey to Hawthorne House, a remote inn located deep in the frigid wilderness. As the storm rages on, Rachael finds herself caught in a gripping tale of mystery and intrigue, unsure of what lies ahead in the enigmatic world of the treacherous snow-covered landscape and the sinister forces that lurk within Hawthorn House. The icy snowstorm blurs the lines between reality and imagination as Rachael uncovers secrets and revelations that challenge her perception of the caretaker and the true nature of Hawthorn House.
READ AN EXCERPT BELOW
About the Author
Regina endeavors to take her readers on a journey around the United States to be fascinated by our country's history in a series of chilling books she hopes you will love. She blends a captivating blend of mystery, historical intrigue, and paranormal elements, her gripping novels, weaving together tales of secrets and revelations that span centuries. Her stories often delved into the hidden depths of history, uncovering long-forgotten mysteries and unsolved crimes that haunted the past. It was the paranormal twists that set Regina's work apart, adding an extra layer of intrigue and suspense that kept readers eagerly turning the pages until the very end. She continues to explore the darker corners of the human experience through her captivating storytelling.
Thank you for reading and please leave a review. Her next book will be coming out in the summer of 2024, The Haunting of York Hall. Any questions or comments? Please visit her wheebsite at reginawixon.com. or follow her on Facebook where she will keep you updated on upcoming books. Questions? Please email her at regina.wixon@gmail.com – She'll be happy to hear from you!
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Excerpt from "The Caretaker"
Viewing the house piece by piece, with its arched windows
and elaborate porch it was beautiful, but the disparate elements did not come
together to make a harmonious home. It squatted there in its hovel, the
whiteness of the siding disappearing in the grayness of the photo. The small
windows in the attic appeared to be hooded eyes, malevolent in the darkness of
winter's twilight, and I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. The
pictures I had seen of Mawthorne Mouse had been taken in the summer, when the
over: growth of trees had masked much of the home. I stepped closer to the
monitor and studied the house closely. The entrance appeared to be a dark,
wooden door. It's usually hard to go wrong with a door shape, but it seemed
shorter and broader than most. There was depth to the opening, as if I could
reach out with my finger, push through that door, and enter the house. I
shivered again. I was letting the lateness of the night and the ambience of the
Alex Johnson get to me - I, who always resided in the here and now. I reached
out to the mouse to close the browser and paused. Perhaps it was a weak
connection or a faulty signal, but snowflakes appeared to drift across the
screen, twisting and spiraling as they swept around the house. I grabbed the
mouse, and the screen settled - no movement, just a picture of an uneasy house,
shivering in the cold. I closed the tab and went to bed, shrugging off my
apprehension.
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