Hauntings of Claverton Castle has 61 chapters—which means I only have eight left to share. Not absolutely sure, but I think I know which novel I’ll begin sharing after that… until November 3, at which point I’m canceling this Substack. It was an experiment, and it’s been okay, but I’d rather continue simply self-publishing some books and attempting to get a literary agent or at least a publisher for other books… assuming I can convince myself I have the patience to continue querying literary agents. I don’t think the Substack is worth doing for over a year—this platform seems more suited for nonfiction.
If the Substack ends before the next novel, no worries—you’ll be able to read it when I publish it as a trade paperback and an e-book. I intend to do the same for The Vanquished & the Surviving (under a new and better title) and Hauntings of Claverton Castle).
Chapter 1:
Chapter 52:
Hauntings of Claverton Castle, Chapter 53
Samantha, Roland, and Margot slipped into the corridor, where Margot observed Samantha catching Harriet’s eye. About to set foot in the dining room, Harriet pivoted on her heel and followed the other three despite Margot raising an eyebrow at her. They headed down the hallway with the misty apparitions floating above them.
Margot stopped, shifted her weight onto her right foot, and crossed her arms. Everyone else halted and looked at her expectantly. She wished Harriet weren’t present, not wishing to hurt her… more… with whatever they discovered about her ancestors. Admittedly, it seemed a bit late to fret about that.
Roland rolled his shoulders. “I know this is a detestable topic. These swirling, misty entities are, one and all, incest victims.” Harriet gasped. Samantha stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I do apologize for choosing such an indelicate term, but that is the only word that efficiently describes such abuse. All these child ghosts were victims.”
Margot wished not to think about what such treatment might potentially do to a child’s mind. “That is not surprising, considering what we assessed in our initial evaluation.”
Harriet glared at her and balled up her fists. “Well, aren’t you a cold one.”
Margot tensed her shoulders and raised an eyebrow at her.
Roland regarded Harriet. “I cannot emphasize enough: I am very, very sorry. I regret that anyone learns such disturbing information about their families. Yet if it has happened in your family, you should know.”
Samantha clasped her hands together. “How many ghosts are there?”
“Twenty, at least,” Roland said.
Margot blinked. “Twenty-eight, to be exact.”
Samantha grimaced and shuddered.
Margot reached forward and rested a hand on her shoulder seconds before belatedly realizing that Harriet probably needed comfort more. Margot glanced at her and considered that if Harriet was a bit hostile, it was no doubt because of her distress. She lowered her arm and reached toward Harriet at last and patted her shoulder.
Harriet shook her off and stepped back. “Twenty-eight victims of such heinous maltreatment?”
Margot nodded, closed her eyes, and bowed her head.
“Odd’s bodkin!” Harriet frantically fluttered her hands in the air.
Margot peered at her and wondered what she could do to help. Nothing came to mind.
“This truly is the stuff of nightmares.” Samantha trembled. “It is a far cry from the great and honorable history Mr. Prendregast talks of when he waxes eloquent about his family’s history.”
Margot crossed her arms. “Perhaps that helps him hide from such a devastating truth.”
“Then it may well be as I suspect,” Samantha said. “Perhaps he is not as oblivious as we have thought. Perhaps he merely pretends.”
“It would not surprise me in the least,” Roland said. “And he may have some sort of amnesia. Since that girl ghost—”
“Gertrude,” Samantha corrected.
Roland nodded. “Gertrude. Since Gertrude was Mr. Prendregast’s little sister, we may have unearthed his darkest secret.”