Hell House: Sneak Peek

I am so excited to announce that my new novella, Hell House, is released today. It was originally in my head for this to be a short story, but as I started writing it, the characters weren’t interested in having their stories cut short, and they kept giving me more ideas, more openings, and Hell House became a novella.

Below you can find out what it’s all about and read a sneak peek too.

Hell House: The Blurb

When Erin and Rob move into their dream house, they have no idea it’s about to become their worst nightmare. Within days, Erin is stalked by a mysterious presence; a presence that seems to want the couple out of the house – at any cost.

Erin finds herself alone, trapped in a nightmare, as Rob withdraws from her, telling her the haunting she is experiencing is all in her head.

Will Erin be able to convince Rob the presence is real and dangerous before it’s too late, or will Hell House claim another victim?

Hell House: Sneak Peek

Chapter One

The day we moved into that God forsaken house was the worst day of my life. No, actually, that’s wrong. The day we moved into Heather House was perfect. It was so perfect it was like something out of one of those old timey movies where everything’s sickeningly perfect. That should have been our first clue. Anything that seems too good to be true usually is. And boy was it too good to be true.

I didn’t see that at the time of course. What I saw at the time was a pair of newly weds, completely besotted with each other, who had found their dream home. It was a little over our budget, but we both fell in love with the house the moment we saw it and Rob convinced me that his new job offered a ton of overtime and that we’d be able to pay the mortgage no problem. Before I really knew what was happening, we had a mortgage, a house and a fresh start in a whole new place.

***

I smile to myself as we pull up outside of our forever home. No one expected us to find a house like this for our first home. They expected a two up, two down, terraced house. The kind that you put up with until you can afford your forever home. We got a bargain with this house though – the past owner wanted a quick sale. And he as sure as hell got one.

Rob cuts the engine of the car and leans across to squeeze my hand. I look up at him, seeing my own excitement reflected in his beautiful brown eyes. I take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His eyes were what first attracted me to him, followed by his smile. Straight, white teeth and two adorable dimples, one in each cheek. I still feel a flutter in my stomach when I look at him this way. I imagine myself running my hands over his chest, pushing them into his dark, tousled hair.

“Are you happy Erin?” he asks me, cutting through my thoughts.

I nod, memories of my childhood growing up in London, in the heart of the city, flooding my mind. This is different. Peaceful. Our house stands alone in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales, so far out from civilisation that we can’t even see another house from here, but close enough that Rob and I can drive into the city for work easily enough. It can’t be a worse commute than the tube at rush hour.

“Yes,” I say. “I can’t believe we found this place.”

“I was worried you’d change your mind you know,” he says, smiling at me.

“What? Why?” I say.

He shrugs.

“I never pictured you as anything other than a city girl. I thought you’d realise you would be bored out here.”

I gesture around me to the rambling gardens filled with flower beds, lawns and small meandering paths that led to more beds. Just out of view behind a line of trees, a decking area sits beneath a wooden gazebo.

“How could I ever be bored here Rob? Look at the size of the garden. I could spend hours out here weeding and fixing up the gazebo.”

“You mean sunbathing and watching me weed and fix up the gazebo,” Rob laughs.

I laugh with him.

“Same thing,” I say.

“Let’s go see how much of a mess the movers have left us with,” Rob grins.

I take a long look at the house. It’s big but not imposing. It’s clearly old, but it doesn’t have that empty feeling about it. There’s no tiles missing, no shutters banging, no peeling paint. The house is rendered and painted white with white wood frames on the windows and three steps leading up to the front door. Tall trees planted behind the house blow in the breeze above the roof. The house reminds me of an old farm house. It looks inviting, comfortable, and I know we’ll be happy here. It has the look of a happy house. The kind of house where you raise children and thrive.

I get out of the car, bouncing excitedly on the balls of my feet while I wait for Rob to grab his jacket from the back seat. We head up the three stone steps to the front door.

“Welcome home Erin,” he says as he unlocks the door.

I step inside, marvelling once more at the high ceiling and the grand sweeping staircase. The inside of the house is kind of at odds with the outside. When I walk in, I still expect a rustic feel, but the inside of the house had been modernised and it’s like stepping into a new house in the city. Not that we could afford to do that.

The house is in good repair, tastefully decorated in a very pale cream throughout. I am excited at the thought of us putting our own stamp on the house. It’s as though the last owners left us a blank canvas to draw our lives on. Maybe they did. Maybe they watched that House Doctor show where they basically knock any personality out of the house and paint it all cream. I know it’ll be a while before we have the time and money to spend on decorating the house, but I can’t help but imagine in my head how it will look when it’s finished. Warm and inviting, a home rather than a show home.

We walk through to the lounge. It’s not too bad in there; there isn’t a lot to do. Our furniture is in some sort of order, and there are hardly any boxes here to unpack; just a black bag containing our cushions and a box of ornaments. I try not to let our slightly shabby furniture dampen my mood, but Rob sees my expression as my eyes linger on the worm couch. He pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead.

“It’s just stuff,” he reminds me. “And it won’t be long until we can afford better things.”

I nod and smile.

“I know,” I say. “I just want it to be gorgeous now.”

“Patience,” he laughs.

We tour the rest of the house, groaning at the stacks of boxes, bags and suitcases we have to go through. It’s not so bad I tell myself. At least we have a few days to get through it before we start our new jobs. And Rob has an extra day after I start work so there’s no pressing rush.

“You know,” I say, grinning at Rob. “We don’t have to unpack anything to get to the bed.”

He returns my grin, knowing exactly where I’m going with this. He kisses me and I melt inside. I ask myself how I got so lucky. My dream man inside of my dream house. Who cares if the mattress is a little worn in places and there’s a broken spring at the bottom that occasionally scratches my foot when I turn over? As long as we’re together, then we don’t need anything else.

Chapter Two

So yeah, at the time, moving into that house felt like the best day of my life. And it should have been. But it wasn’t. It led me to the worst day of my life. A day which came much later, but if we had been satisfied with a little townhouse, or a flat in York, none of what came after would have happened.

Not the torment. The misery. The fighting. Not the uneasy feeling inside of me that became crippling fear. Not the paranoia and the hurt. And not the … No. I can’t talk about that. Not yet.

I can talk about the moment it started though. The moment our dream began to turn into a nightmare. Of course, when it happened, we had no idea how far it would go or the hell we would endure. In fact, we laughed and joked about it. It doesn’t seem so funny now though. Not even a little bit.

It all started three days after we moved in.

***

“I can’t believe I start work tomorrow and you get an extra day off,” I laugh as Rob and I sort through boxes in one of the spare bedrooms.

“I’m glad you think it’s a day off,” he laughs back. “I reckon I’d rather go to work than spend another day trawling through boxes. How the hell did we accumulate so much junk?”

“God knows,” I say, shaking my head as I look at the pile of black bags in the corner of the room.

Black bags filled with the things you gather along the way without questioning them at the time, but then you find them later and wonder what on earth you even kept them for.

Rob stands up and stretches. I hear his back crack and I wince as he laughs. He nods towards the pile of bags.

“I reckon I’m going to make a start taking those to the tip,” he says. “Do you want anything while I’m in the city?”

“You could pick us up something nice for dinner,” I say.

It’s getting on for four and my stomach is already growling. By the time Rob gets to the tip and gets rid of all of the bags and gets back, I think I can have this room finished and it’ll be a good time to stop for food.

“Will do,” Rob says. “Chinese ok?”

“Great,” I say, and we laugh as my stomach rumbles, confirming that is indeed ok with me.

He kisses the top of my head as he passes me and starts grabbing the bags of rubbish. He has to make two trips to get all of the bags in the car. I hear the car engine roar to life as he pulls away.

I’m humming to myself as I work. Suddenly, I feel a chill go through my body and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My humming dies mid-tune and I spin around quickly, convinced I can feel the presence of someone behind me, watching me. Of course there’s no one there and I laugh at my own paranoia. It’s a quiet, shaky laugh, not in the least bit convincing.

I try to concentrate on what I’m doing, but I feel so uneasy and I keep checking over my shoulder every two minutes. I decide I must be over tired. Rob and I really wanted the house in order before we started work, and we’ve had three early mornings and late nights in a row.

Yeah that’s it, I’m just tired. I’ll have an early night tonight ready for my new job tomorrow.

I turn my focus back to the box. I reach in and pull out a framed photograph. I smile to myself when I see it. It’s a picture of Rob and I on our wedding day, him in his black suit, me in my white dress. A contrast that perfectly complements each other. Just like Rob and I. I can see the happiness radiating out of us as we smile for the camera. I’ve always loved this picture. Since the moment we got our wedding album back six months ago, it’s been my favourite picture. I think it captures our essence perfectly.

It shouldn’t be stashed away in a cupboard somewhere with the other photos I decide. It should be on display. That was my intention when I framed it, but it was another one of those things I never got around to finding a place for, and it must have got put back in the cupboard with the album at some point. I get to my feet, intending to go and put the photograph on the mantle piece in the lounge.

I reach the bedroom door and as I reach my hand out for the handle, an almighty crash sounds behind me. I jump, a small scream escaping my lips. I turn around slowly, dread in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see – maybe a monster. Maybe an axe murderer. Maybe a ghostly apparition in white.

Of course I don’t see anything of the sort. I see the box I have been unpacking laid on the floor, its contents strewn all over.

“What the …?” I whisper.

How the hell did that happen? It’s like someone invisible has pushed it over. Icy fingers of fear run up and down my back.

I shake my head, forcing out a laugh that sounds shaky and nervous even to my own ears. I don’t like how that laugh sounds at all. It sounds like someone who is far too close to losing it.

Stop being so stupid. You left it off centre and it fell off the other box. That’s all.

I know it has to be that. What else could it be? Ghosts?

I feel another shiver going through me at the thought of ghosts, and again, I tell myself to stop being stupid. Of course the house isn’t haunted. It’s not like we’re suddenly living in a movie.

I turn around and leave the room, my head held high, telling myself I’m not afraid. I go down the stairs and put the picture on the mantle piece. I run my fingers over the glass smiling to myself once more and suddenly wishing Rob was here.

What would he think of me if I told him that a ghost had pushed one of the boxes over? I shake my head, imagining the look on his face, the way he would tease me. My laughter is a little more genuine as I head back up the stairs to sort out the mess.

You can grab your copy here for the bargain price of £1.99 or free on Kindle Unlimited.

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