Book Jacket

 

rank 3985
word count 94525
date submitted 02.07.2010
date updated 11.07.2010
genres: Romance, Fantasy, Young Adult
classification: moderate
complete

The Amulet of Osiris

Lauren Diana Smith

A ghostly romance centering around a lonely teenage girl and a century old ghost of a young man as they fight an ancient evil.

 

Seventeen year old Emma, moved to a Victorian suburb of Boston, finds herself attracted to a mansion and its ghost, Richard. The first time she sees him, Emma thought he was made of stardust and moonbeams. Richard shares the secret of the Amulet of Osiris, which for over two thousand years has driven men to kill for it.
Others know its secret. The ghost of Richard’s murderer, Edgar, also knows of its power. Emma and Richard have to find a way to keep the amulet safe and release Richard from his ghostly prison.
Emma and her friend Cassie try to find a way to release Richard’ soul, Edgar hounds them every step of the way. To complicate matters, Emma has to fight off the attentions of Jeremy, the high school golden boy. The line between friends and enemies blurs as Emma struggles to release Richard and neutralize the amulet before it is too late.
On Halloween Edgar releases an evil that could destroy the world. It is up to Richard and Emma to stop it from covering the world in darkness. Is Emma’s love strong enough to change his destiny?

 
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tags

amulet, egypt, ghost, halloween, high school, love story, osiris, poetry, romance, seth

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~Massachusetts October 31st 1882~

    The eerie silence of the narrow street of Victorian houses was shattered by howling of winds at irregular intervals.  All the leafless branches reached forth, clawing wildly at the wind and windows alike.  Murky clouds smothered the pale moon leaving only scarce pools of light on the dark street.  All the inhabitants of the street were sleeping deeply, except for the young man in the large mansion at the end of the street

He was pacing his study, hands clasped behind his back, his face turned towards the raging fire in the fireplace before him.  He had long since loosened his cravat and abandoned his jacket, fueled by the fiery passion of discovery.  Luckily this dispelled the chill of October’s drafts that broke through the cracks in the windows and doors of the mansion.  He brushed with a feverish hand, a lock of deep russet hair that fell into his large blue eyes. 

The young man was deep in thought, his mind moving like lightning on a summer’s eve, with bright flashes that left faded lines of their momentary brilliance etched in the viewer’s eyes.  He had a powerful secret, but he could not figure out how to protect it.  It was only a matter of time before they came to claim his secret.  And as he puzzled out this fear, a dark figure that had made shadows on the cobblestones leading to his back door, drew ever closer.  The last few weak flowers in the garden wilted in premature frost as the dark figure passed by.

    A gust of wind sent the trees into a frenzy and the screeching of branches on the windows made the young man jump.  There was a distant crash, the sound of glass breaking.  The young man steeled himself with courage and approached the study door.  The hallway outside was empty save for shadows.  He took a deep breath and started off towards the ballroom where he thought he’d heard the glass break.  The ballroom was dark, except where glimmers of momentary lightning that flashed through the high windows.  At the back of the room, a single French window swung open near the back door; its pane was empty of glass.  The man approached it cautiously, his heart thudding in his chest.  Glass shards crunched under his boots, but the man didn’t notice. 

His eyes were focused on the ruby red spray of blood along the edges of the broken pane.  Someone had broken in.  Rain flicked in through the broken window, like sea spray, catching his eyes.  The man cursed softly, wiped his eyes and checked to make sure the door was locked.  Perhaps the intruder had given up and gone home, tonight was no night to attempt a robbery.  As the man turned on his heel and headed back towards the study, he missed the illumination of lightning, and the trail of muddy footprints leading into the shadowy curtains on the ballroom’s edge. 

When he returned to the study, his bright blue eyes fixed warily on the windows, but the fires glow reflecting on the panes blinded him to the danger just beyond.  He moved to his desk and retrieved a small golden object; it was something that he must protect at all costs.  But where to hide it until the danger passed?  As he turned his back upon the study door the dark figure slithered in, the firelight shrinking in fear.  There was a silver flash of a blade and all fell into darkness. 

The young man lay cold upon the study floor, the fire’s embers died as the dark figure unsatisfied, left his prey.  The object of his desire, when the fatal blow was struck, had flown from the young man’s hands and skittered beneath the nearest bookcase unnoticed by the murderer.  Outside, the moon was consumed by clouds as the night vanquished all light and life within the mansion, save for the object beneath the bookcase, which glinted defiantly in the dark all alone.  The inky black sky waited for the darker storm to come.


 

~ Present Day Massachusetts July 10th~

It was exactly the type of neighborhood she would have picked, had her parents offered her a choice in the matter.  But Emma Swinburne wasn’t as angry with her parents as she wanted to be.  She knew that as a seventeen year-old recently uprooted from her entire life’s existence she should be furious, instead she felt only a cool indifference.  Only the empty walls of an empty house and the vapor trails of their rental moving truck ever suggested she’d been there at all.  Even that had faded when the truck pulled onto the highway, leaving the Midwest behind her and putting the northeast in front of her. 

Now as they drove down the street she noted in quiet delight that the row of houses on either side seemed to be old, not in a dilapidated or crumbling way, but rather in an enchanting and charming way.  They were Victorian era or perhaps a little later.  They were delightful and Emma was surprised she couldn’t wait to see which one was theirs.  She smiled as they pulled into the driveway of the second to last house on the street, taking in the beautiful Victorian home, but after a moment her eyes felt inexplicably drawn to the right, at the last house on the street.

    It was cold and menacing in its mythical beauty, like a foreboding Mount Olympus long since abandoned by the gods.  Despite the warm summer, the chill of the house made her cold and she reached for her jacket involuntarily where it lay unused on the seat beside her.  Her parents piled out of the car and headed for the door of their new house, animatedly chatting, while Emma slowly climbed out.  Her gaze still caught in the mesmerizing power of the mansion next door.  The darkened windows and wild garden in the front yard spoke of years of abandonment.  Could a place be both frightening and beautiful at the same time?  Emma took a step forward towards this mansion, but a shout from her father called her back to reality.  She couldn’t go over there, not right now anyway.  Emma sighed and dashed up the steps and into her new home, all dark and mysterious thoughts of the mansion next door gone from her mind…almost.

    Emma spent the remainder of the day unpacking and attempting to restore order out of the boxed chaos of her life.  The new house was pleasant and surprisingly modern indoors, not that she had been expecting chamber pots or anything.  She could hear her parents bustling around downstairs after dinner, but Emma remained in her room, content to lounge on her newly reconstructed bed and stare out the window at the mystery next door.  She watched the wind stir its trees and the sun set behind its monstrous form, drinking in the mystery of it all.  The hours passed like seconds, mere grains of sand in an endlessly pouring hourglass, but this did not matter.  The house was whispering to her…and Emma listened. 

Emma was not simply a romantic; she was a complex web of entangled ideas and ideals that were both ancient and modern.  It was this complexity that drove away her peers.  They couldn’t understand her preference of remaining at home to read while they went out partying, nor could they comprehend that she used her cell phone so little that she frequently forgot where she had put it. 

Things that mattered to her peers, popularity, friends, fancy cars, or boyfriends, held no interest for Emma.  She preferred books, and watching old black and white movies, and could care less about being popular.  She never wore an ounce of makeup nor did anything fancy with her hair, she simply let it hang down just a few inches past her shoulders.  Many girls, on first meeting Emma praised her for her natural beauty and luscious sheen of auburn hair and gray-blue eyes, but they soon grew envious and were quick to point out Emma’s lack of attempt to improve her looks.  Emma simply saw no point, she liked the way she was, so why change it?  And when it came to the house next door, she found out again she was different from others because she was entranced by it.  She seemed to understand the house, in all of its crumbling glory, it spoke to her.  It was like a wounded, ill-treated animal, ready to lash out in self defense, but with love it could become gentle.  With such promising thoughts Emma prepared for bed and fell asleep.  While next door, within the seemingly empty house a face was turned in Emma’s direction, guarded, watchful, cautious and glowing.

~*~

The dark palace halls of Emma’s world of dreams were different that night.  Where once she walked beneath soft moonlight through gardens to each new dream like the first sunrise of a newly born star over its orbiting planets, now she was running, stumbling away from the dark figure that threatened to devour her.  Shadows born of midnight, streaked along the walls like monstrous spider webs, waiting to catch her.  The dark figure kept coming; its black spindly claws ached to cleave flesh from bone and drink to Evil upon her soul.  Nowhere in her dream world was safe, this evil creature would find her and all would be lost. 

Emma woke herself with her own screams ripping from her throat.  She wiped her sweat covered forehead with the back of her hand and pulled her hair away from her neck to try and cool down.  She chanced a glance at the clock; the bright numbers glowing read 2:43 A.M

    “Damn.”  Emma cursed as she heard footsteps running towards her door.  The door was instantly flung wide as both her parents burst into the room.

    “Emma Darling!  What’s the matter?  Are you alright?”  Her father asked wielding an aluminum bat as if he expected a fight.

    “I’m fine dad, I just had a nightmare.”  She consoled him. 

Her father was a tall, good natured man that no one could ever claim to be anything but amiable.  He had dark hair and a salt and pepper mustache, giving him a deserved air of distinction.  He was a lawyer who just recently switched to a bigger law firm, which was why they had moved a suburb outside of Boston.  But Emma preferred the image of her father as the bat-wielding protector more than she did the lawyer, only because the first meant he loved her, and the second, though not bad, was not as important to her.

    “Harold, put the bat down.”  Emma’s mother said, in slight annoyance. 

Emma’s mother was what Emma hoped to be when she got older, a powerful, beautiful, loving and intelligent woman who had little thought for herself, but put hours into helping others.  Emma’s mother was a vice president of a large corporate bank, but she managed to also be the finest mother and wife around.

    “Bells, I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”  Her father said to her mother, using his nickname for her Bells, short for Belinda.  Her mother was too busy stroking her daughter’s hair back and checking her pulse.

    “Guys I’m fine really.  Remember how we talked about hovercraft parents?  This is what I’m talking about.  Both of you go back to bed alright?”  She commanded and both her parents, sensing a lost battle, kissed her on her forehead and went back to bed. 

Emma remained awake for awhile longer, staring out the window at the dim outline of the house next door.  She knew instinctively that the dream had been connected to the house, but she could not even begin to fathom how or why.  Sleep crept in upon her and she did not wake again till midmorning.

    The house was quiet; her parents left the remainder of unpacked boxes in a large pile in the parlor of the house and had gone to work to escape more unpacking at least temporarily.  Emma wandered around the house in her pajamas for a while enjoying the pleasurable quiet of being alone.  After this passed, she showered and dressed deciding to go outside and scout the grounds. 

Their own house had an amazing half acre of terraced gardens that were well-kept, and a wall of hedges so high and thick on the right side that no fence between her house and the mystery mansion next door was even needed.  Emma felt like the little girl, Mary from the book A Secret Garden as she patrolled the hedge inspecting it for any secret doors.  To her disappointment she found none.  But as she passed through the hedges one last time, heading back to the house, she moved through a patch of cold air and shuddered violently.  The strange presence of cold air gave her pause, something tugged at her memory but she couldn’t quite place the feeling or memory.  She could have sworn that the cold meant something, but she couldn’t bring herself to recall it.  The odd feeling left her quickly and she went back into her house with other matters pressing on her mind, like dinner and the remainder of the unpacked boxes in her room.

    She wasn’t long in the house before the doorbell rang in a beautiful combination of notes that chimed in pleasing unison that was most definitely not from the modern era of electronic chime notes.  She went to the front door and she saw a tall figure shadowed through the opaque glass.  When she opened the door she was momentarily stunned by the attractive young man standing on her doorstep.  He had hazel eyes; lightly tanned skin and unruly golden light brown hair that made him seem as if he just came off the beach.

    “Hi.”  He said grinning broadly and holding out his hand.

    “Uh…hi…”  Emma said, suspicious of why a cute boy was talking to her.

    “My name’s Jeremy.  I live just down the street; I thought I’d introduce myself.”  He said and Emma looked him up and down, taking in his polo shirt and cargo shorts and track shoes.

    “I’m Emma Swinburne.”  She said slowly taking his hand reluctantly, she did not like to share so much with strangers, but this seemed necessary.  No sense in insulting the neighbors by being unpleasant, that would hurt her parents.  But truthfully, Emma had hoped that the neighborhood wouldn’t have anyone her age in it.  Jeremy cleared his throat and Emma remembered that she did have some manners.

    “Oh sorry, please come in.”  She said holding the door wide and moving far away from him, as he entered.  His eyes roved the inside of her house before falling on her again.

    “Nice place you have here.”  He said awkwardly and Emma, suddenly struck with an idea, made herself much more amiable.

    “Yeah, it’s great; I really like it here even though I only moved in yesterday.”  She said and he smiled.  Then she took a chance.

    “Say, you wouldn’t know who lives next door do you?”  She gestured with a thumb in the direction of the mysterious mansion.  His eyes narrowed and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

    “No one’s lived there for a very long time.”  He said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully.

    “How long?”  She asked.

    “Since October 31st 1882.”  He said and Emma’s eyes widened in shock.

    “Wow, that’s a really specific time.”  Emma said.

    “It’s hard to forget a date like that when the last person in the house was murdered.”  Jeremy added and Emma shivered.

    “Murdered?” 

    “Yeah, the guy was stabbed on Halloween and people say he still haunts the house.”

    “You mean there’s a ghost?”  Emma was not skeptical in the least, but rather fascinated.

    “Most people say they don’t believe it, but no one’s lived there since.”  Jeremy said matter-of-factly.

    “How fascinating…”  Emma said truthfully.

    “Yes…well…I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?  I could show you the town?”  Jeremy prompted hopefully but Emma was already pushing him out the door with a polite coolness in her manner.

    “Yes, perhaps some other time.  It was nice to meet you Jeremy.”  She said shoving him out onto the porch and shutting the door as gently as she could manage before dashing up the stairs to her window.  She didn’t see Jeremy as he glared in disappointment at her front door and then skulked back up the street to his own house, while she stared wistfully in the direction of the haunted house. 

~*~

Luckily Emma didn’t have a plan for the first day of school, so she wasn’t worried about how the day might play out.  She was nervous of course, as anyone would be by being thrust into a lively and active social system that probably had no place for her.  She would have been completely content to sit by herself at lunch and speak only to her teachers, but she knew that wouldn’t be allowed.  When her mother dropped her off at school she cringed at the sight of the crowd of people moving into the tan multilayer building.

    “I’ll be here at three o’clock Emma!”  Her mother called as she drove off. 

Emma sighed and shouldered her backpack and straightened her t-shirt before turning to face the school again.  Her heart thudded heavily and slowly in her chest, which was extremely uncomfortable.  She entered the building surprised at people noticing her; she had rather hoped that she would fly under the radar and not be the focus of anyone’s attention.  She dropped her eyes to the floor and picked a direction that looked promising for her English class. 

The room was already full except for one seat in the back which Emma noted with chagrin was located next to that Jeremy boy from up the street.  Emma glanced at the teacher, a pleasant matronly woman, who gestured for her to take the last empty seat.  Emma made the long walk to the seat, feeling the heavy stares of her peers as she passed.  She slid into the seat and tried to ignore Jeremy’s open smile in her direction.  The class passed without incident until the bell rang and Jeremy leaned over to talk to her.

    “So Emma, you, me, dinner, how about it?”  He asked, his playful smile oozing with unnecessary charm.  A small flicker of guilt registered in Emma’s head somewhere, which somehow managed to suppress her desire to hit him.

    ‘I’m really sorry, but I’ve still got a lot of unpacking to do.”  She said in what she hoped was a diplomatic tone, but apparently he didn’t seem to think so if his darkened face was any evidence.

    “Oh.”  He said and gathered his books up and left the class room sulkily. 

Emma was rather stunned that she could anger him by a simple refusal.  She sighed and gathered her books and made to go to her next class when she realized she wasn’t alone.  A girl was waiting at the door, nervously watching her.  Emma made eye contact as she drew closer and the girl smiled shyly.

    “You’re Emma right?  I’m Cassandra Banks, but you can call me Cassie.”  The girl said and Emma returned her friendly smile.  Cassie was slightly shorter than her, with a pleasant oval face framed by dark wavy hair that made Emma think of the Regency era portraits of graceful women.  Cassie seemed unaware of Emma’s scrutiny as she started to talk again.

    “I hope you don’t mind my being frank with you.”  She said glancing at Emma as they walked down the hall to the next class.

    “I wish you would.”  Emma said; honesty was always a strong point for her.

    “I eavesdropped just now on Jeremy Craven’s attempt to ask you out.  I knew I had to introduce myself to any girl that could refuse him so easily.  He’s the schools very own Brad Pitt.”  Cassie said apparently proud of Emma’s action.

    “Uh Thanks.”  Emma said not sure if that had been a compliment.

    “So you’re the new girl, and on your first day you refuse the Supreme Hotness Jeremy.  You’re exactly the type of person I’d love to be friends with.”  She said and Emma looked surprised.  Friends?  She hadn’t considered it possible so early into the school year.  Her usual mistrust of her peers put aside, she thought perhaps she could take a chance on Cassie.  She was obviously someone that did not go along (at least willingly) with the mindless obsessions and activities of the people their age.

    As it turned out she and Cassie had all the same classes, and sadly Jeremy did too, but he did a perfect job of pretending she didn’t exist for the rest of the day.  Emma noted with pleasure that Cassie’s desire for friendship prevented Emma from being labeled a loner and therefore she was not cast to the wayside.  But she still kept her solitary moments even as she listened to Cassie prattle on about the inner politics of the various school cliques, at a table in the back of the lunch room. 

Now that she had survived her first day, she was less of a topic of interest to her peers.  By the time the last bell had rung she and Cassie headed toward the front of the school.  Cassie drove herself to school every day in a red and black Mini-Cooper that Emma thought was very cool.  Emma was saving up for her own car, so she was extremely impressed to learn that Cassie had worked two years at summer jobs to buy her car.

    “You want a ride home?”  Cassie asked and Emma considered it.  She whipped out her cell phone and left her mother a voice mail explaining that she didn’t need a ride and piled into the car.  Cassie asked for her address and nearly whooped with excitement when she found out that Emma lived down the street.

    “I live next door to Jeremy, Ugh; talk about obnoxious, especially when he throws his Halloween party every year.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve called the cops and left an anonymous tip about underage drinking.  I just hate that his dad’s always kept him from getting thrown in jail.”  Cassie’s bright brown eyes glittered with devious delight as she voiced the last thought.  Emma laughed, she definitely liked this Cassie girl. 

    “So Jeremy throws a Halloween party every year?”  Emma asked, she couldn’t help wanting to know more, not about Jeremy though. 

Emma drove her parents nuts every year by pulling out the decorations on October first and refusing to put them away until well into the second week of November.  Emma always dressed up too; there was nothing so pleasant in the world then donning a costume, becoming someone else, if only just for one night.  Its not that she didn’t like who she was, but this was one night she had the freedom to publicly shock those around her by transforming.

    “His party is the event of the season at school, pretty much everyone is invited since he can afford to invite all five hundred of us.  It’s a whole big deal, with a costume contest and everything.  I went my freshman year, but didn’t go last year.  I had more fun calling the cops.”  Cassie said with smug satisfaction, as her Mini-Cooper pulled into Emma’s driveway.

    “Do you want to come inside?”  Emma offered to Cassie and Cassie nodded eagerly.  Cassie had just climbed out of her car when they heard tires squealing on pavement further up the street.  Jeremy had just arrived at his house, his black Viper’s engine purring loudly.

    “Man I hate that guy.”  Cassie grumbled as she and Emma headed inside.  Emma had to agree, there was something beyond the basic distrust of Jeremy that worried Emma, and she just couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

    Once they entered Emma’s room Cassie oohed and ahhed over the beautiful furnishings and trinkets and books that decorated Emma’s newly built shelves and walls.

    “I love your room.  You have the best collection of antique books I’ve ever seen!  Can I look at this Jane Eyre?”  She asked and Emma assented.  Cassie held the late 19th century book delicately as she perused the pages examining the engravings and relishing the age worn gilded cover.

    “It’s beautiful…”  She said appreciatively and shelved the book with care.

    “Thanks, it’s sort of my passion, collecting them.”  Emma added.

    “Very cool.”  Cassie added replacing the book back on the shelf and she glanced out Emma’s window.

    “Whoa.”  Cassie breathed and Emma looked at her confused.

    “What?”  Emma asked.

    “That’s one heck of a view of the old Wellington place.” She said.

    “The Wellington place?”

    “Yeah, that old abandoned house next door.  From here you can just see into the expansive gardens.  Wow, those roses are out of control.”  Cassie added as she leaned on the window ledge to get a better look at the old mansion.

    “But I guess you wouldn’t know the story would you?”  Cassie said thoughtfully.

    “When Jeremy came over in July he mentioned it.  He said there was a murder or something.”  Emma clarified.

    “Yeah that’s the basic gist of the story.  A man was murdered there in the mid 1880s and no one knows who did it.  The property rests in the hands of the dead man’s younger sister’s surviving descendants but they’ve never touched it.”  Cassie explained.

    “Wow Cassie, you know quite a lot about the house.”  Emma said impressed.  Cassie laughed; it was a light pleasing laugh that made Emma smile.

    “Trust me, if you are a girl in this neighborhood and you don’t mope over Jeremy there is little else to occupy your day dreams beside the haunted Wellington house.” 

    “Wait…do believe it’s actually haunted?”  Emma asked as her mind strayed to her earlier conversation with Jeremy regarding a ghost.

    “Honestly, I’m still on the fence over the whole ‘do ghosts exist’ issue, but there is something seriously creepy about that house.  Creepy and unnatural.”     

“So you’ve seen the ghost?”  Emma asked intrigued now.

    “Oh god no!  But I’ve seen strange things there, lights at night moving through the window panes and curtains moving.  You know…ghost stuff, pretty spooky if you ask me.”  Cassie said; she looked sheepishly embarrassed by this admission.

    “You don’t think the wind moved the curtains or anything?”  Emma prompted.

    “Emma they weren’t billowing in a breeze, they were being pushed apart at the middle as if hands were pushing them apart.”  Cassie’s face was pale with simply remembering the spectral act. 

Emma felt a creeping, gnawing sensation in her stomach, a nervousness that made her full of dread.  The dream she had the first night she moved here came flooding back.  The shadow that had threatened to devour her…was she dreaming of the ghost?

    “Emma, are you okay?  You’re pale as death!”  Cassie said; her voice was laced with genuine concern.  Emma fell back to sit on the edge of her bed.

    “I’m alright…I just feel well…funny.  Have you ever had the feeling like something bad was going to happen?  And I don’t mean like you know your parents are going to ground you, but like really bad.”  Emma said her voice soft and her gaze fixed on the Wellington house in the distance.  Cassie shuddered at Emma’s question.

    “Yeah, I’ve felt that way before…the day I found out my dad had colon cancer.”  Cassie said sitting down next to Emma.  Emma felt it impolite to ask about Cassie’s father, though she knew he had died a few years ago.

    “Do you know what’s causing this feeling?” Cassie spoke again.

    “I’m not sure, but it has something to do with that house.  I’m sure of it.”  The two girls sat silently for a moment longer, unable to tear their eyes away from the eerie abandoned house.  The sun was low in sky falling just behind the top of the house and the dark silhouette of the building was unsettling.

    “So now that we’re thoroughly disturbed by a haunted house…I should get going…homework and all.  See you tomorrow?”  Cassie headed for the door.

    “Cool, sounds great!”  Emma grinned.

    After Cassie left, Emma remained on her bed, still staring fixedly at the house next door.  A part of her inside willed the ghost to show himself, to come forward and reveal the mystery of the house, but she received no answer, no flickering light no moving curtains.

    The moment her back was turned on the house, a shadow detached itself from the hedgerows of the Wellington Mansion.  The shadow spread its spindly claws outward over the green grass of the unkempt law, wilting the emerald blades as it blocked out the sunlight.  Evil stirred within that darkened form that oozed towards Emma’s open window, eager, waiting, to taste her innocence, and take her life.  The Wellington Mansion shivered as the shadow’s edge touched the ledge of Emma’s window.  The shadow shrunk back in fear, the Wellington ghost had been asleep for so many decades that the shadow believed him long gone.  A low rumbling of an angry spirit sent waves of violent energy through the air, ripping the shadow away from Emma’s window…but it would come back, it would possess her, drown her in its darkness. 

 

 

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lionel25 wrote 622 days ago

Lauren, your opening chapter is good work. Nothing really to nitpick in that section.

Happy to back your novel.

Joffrey (The Silver Spoon Effect)

CamilleS wrote 635 days ago

Who wouldn't want to know what is going to happen?! Well done! Backing.

Camille
Curse of the Golden Fly

LonnieNonnie wrote 636 days ago

Good pitch and intriguing opening should find its mark. Best of luck with this

Melcom wrote 636 days ago

Very atmospheric beginning.

Well done and good luck on the site.

Melxx

lizjrnm wrote 653 days ago

Excellent ghost story and backed with pleasure cause Id buy this book.

Liz
The Cheech Room

Sly80 wrote 671 days ago

Very gothic atmosphere, the night and the wind, the writhing branches and strange sounds, death and 'the object beneath the bookshelf, which glinted defiantly in the dark alone'. Fast forward, and Emma is moving in next door, 'Could a place be both frightening and beautiful at the same time'. I like the change to more matter-of-fact language here to suit the modern setting. It makes a good contrast and still manages the spine-chilling moments, 'a face was turned in Emma's direction, guarded, watchful, cautious and glowing'.

Aptly, Emma's nightmare return us to the gothic imagery, until she awakes. 'Hovercraft parents'? I don't think I've heard of those. Jeremy explains about the murder ... and the rumoured ghost, but the poor lad gets short shrift from Emma. She does make friends with Cassie though. 'Have you ever had the feeling that something bad is going to happen?' Yep. This is a fabulous mix of horror, fantasy, crime and romance that is ideally suited to a YA audience ... backed.

Possible nits: to avoid a repeat of 'the street' and 'All', consider this slight rewording, 'The inhabitants of the houses were sleeping deeply, ...' 'fell into [across - would be less painful] his large blue eyes'. 'The last house on the street ... the last house on the street', watch out for saying things twice. 'an ounce of makeup', make that 'a trace' as an ounce would be quite a lot.

Dialogue punctuation should be: "Yes," she said (the 'she said' is part of the same sentence as what she said), "Really?" he asked. Anything that isn't to do with the 'talking' is a separate sentence, e.g. "You can never tell." He shook his head.

Lockjaw Lipssealed wrote 674 days ago

Love this! I'm a big fan of YA and this fit in with the best of them.

Lockjaw

Spellbound wrote 682 days ago

Ok...I'm hooked - I have to tell you that I am in this for the long haul (even if it takes me a couple of days to get through it). I absolutely adore Emma - I see a lot of my qualities in the way that you have so vividly described her - you have solidly built a wonderful MC - Cassie is just perfect as her friend...and I just am going crazy over what I know is to come from your pitch - the romance between her and the ghost next boy - not your typical girl next door story - and I LOVE IT!!!! Sincerely, April

Eveleen wrote 682 days ago

A well written story
Backed.
Eveleen.
(Turning an new leaf)

mariecapri wrote 683 days ago

Hi Lauren. Your story opens with a chilling tale and certainly makes the reader want to read on. Emma's friendship with Cassie introduces the story of the house's past really well. I liked the sequence of the dreams with Richard. You certainly know how to make this chilling through your writing and have a great use of adjectives. Backed and best of luck with this! Maria (Cosmic Linx)

klouholmes wrote 684 days ago

Hi Lauren, The nearness of the mansion with the ghost and Jeremy contrast with Emma who seems practical despite her liking to read. The first scene and the description of the neighborhood though establish a setting that she seems likely to explore. The style brought me in and Emma’s easiness with meeting people was nicely conveyed. I can see the YA reader getting involved. Shelved – Katherine (The Swan Bonnet)

Kidd1 wrote 685 days ago

A ghost story with panache. Your pitch drew me in, and I wasn't disapointed. You have a chill to your voice that keeps your tone edgy. BAcked.

I hope you will give mine a read, and back it if you like it.
Best,
Robert
Golden Conspiracy

DMHeadley wrote 687 days ago

Just loved your pitch. Well written.
Dawn,
My Friends and Me

missyfleming_22 wrote 687 days ago

I love ghost stories like this, with a little romance and adventure set in. It's my perfect book! I had a lot of fun reading this, it's well written, set at a great pace, and full of mystery. I want to read much more than the three chapters I normally do so I'm going to keep it around on the watchlist for a bit! Thanks for a great read!

Missy

AmmyBelle wrote 688 days ago

Smithy - this is the best ghost story - it reaches far beyond the young adult category - it is a thinking teen's book. I am so glad you put it up here! As to everyone else: I have read the entire manuscript and all I can say is that it is an excellent book with great descriptive quality and literary allusions. I think everyone here will appreciate it's depth and the mastery of its conclusion.
Ammy. :)

A Knight wrote 689 days ago

I adore the descriptiveness of this piece, and was pulled in by the pitch without a problem. Almost immediately, I was engaged and interested, wanthing to know more. There's a real sense of exotic with the era you have chosen, a period of history that is well-known to us (relatively), but that you've bought to life with your own nuances.

Excellent work, and backed with pleasure.
Abi xxx

soutexmex wrote 689 days ago

Welcome aboard, Lauren. This website will improve your writing craft, if you allow it. I'm a bit of a pitch doctor, having read thousands of pitches in my time on this website, so I want to share my insight here with you. You have to think of your pitches as your sales tool to grab the casual reader's eyes. The short pitch TELLS instead of SHOWS. The long pitch needs to be broken down into smaller paragraphs so it reads faster. Good that you end it with one succinct question. Perfecting your pitches is how you climb in ranking to gather more exposure and comments to better your novel. The writing is good so I am SHELVING you.

Though I have been a very active member for over a year and have the most commented book on the website, I can still use your comments on my book when you get the chance. Every little bit helps. Cheers!

JC
The Obergemau Key

Jim Darcy wrote 689 days ago

Descriptive, evocative and an entertaining read.
Jim Darcy
The Firelord's Crown

Famlavan wrote 689 days ago

Brilliant descriptive opening!
You deserve backing just for the use of multi-sensory description. Think how you have portrayed Emma is very good. Not sure I’m into this shadow thing, however I’m going to have to go back just to find out what happens. – Good luck with this!

SusieGulick wrote 691 days ago

Dear Lauren, I got so excited when I saw that you had backed, "He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not." :) Thanks so very much. :) Since I have already backed your book, I will put your book on my watchlist. Could you please take a moment to back my completed unedited memoir version, "Tell Me True Love Stories?" I'd be ever so grateful. :) Thank you. :) Love, Susie :)
authonomy quote: "Every time you place a book on your bookshelf, your recommendation pushes the book up the rankings. And while that book sits on your bookshelf, your reputation as a talent spotter increases depending on how well that book performs."
Here is the response I received from authonomy concerning backing:
When you back a book, it only improves the ranking of that book, not yours. However, the author whose book you are backing may decide to back your book also, in which case yes, your ranking would be improved."

Andrew Burans wrote 691 days ago

Your use of imagery is excellent - you paint your scenes very well. Massachussets, 1882 sets the tone for the balance of your book perfectly - a sense of foreboding leaving the reader wanting to find out more. You build Emma very well and your imaginative writing makes your fantasy a pleasure to read. Backed.

Andrew Burans
The Reluctant Warrior: The Beginning

lynn clayton wrote 691 days ago

The howling wind, the dark house, the shadow that as it passes makes the flowers wilt (glorious) all add to classic Victorian tone of this novel. It reminds me of Charlotte Bronte which is odd since you mention Jane Eyre later.
We'd all like to move into a house like Emma's and have a mysterious one nextdoor but the next best thing is reading about it.
Your description of her is lovely and the dialogue is colloquial and somehow makes the mystery and spookiness more believable, as being part of the real world. The shadow's edge (Wuthering Heights?) touching her window is terrifying. Very much backed. lynn

yasmin esack wrote 691 days ago

Written with intrigue and wonderful twists and turns to tickle the fanciful minds of the YA age group. Your style is engrossing and your imagination comes through really well.

Truly masterfully written and I have to say I admire your talent.

backed
THE THIRD EYE

Kristine Cheney wrote 691 days ago

Backed! Will you please take a quick peek at "Spartan Heart," and if you deem it worthy, return the favor? Thank you so much!

Kristine Cheney
Spartan Heart

Burgio wrote 692 days ago

AMULET OF OSIRIS
This is an interesting story. The prologue is dramatic: the howling wind . . . the open window . . . creates a good hook for your reader and set an ominous tone for the rest of the story. Emma is a good character; she’s likable and feisty; having her move in next door to the murder house is good plotting. If I had a suggestion it would be to look at your sentences and be certain they’re as active as they can be (not, “the street was shattered by the wind,” but “the wind shattered the street”. Not, “there was the silver flash of a blade”, but, “a silver blade flashed.” Either way, there’s good writing here. I’m adding this to my shelf. Burgio (Grain of Salt).

name falied moderation wrote 692 days ago

Dear Lauren,

Wow how does one find these wonderful gems in their heads. CONGRATS. Characters that are so real they want to move in with me, and certainly wont leave my head. Original storyline, and so well crafted. ...Just a thought for your long pitch, and that is to put paras in. This is the first read your potential publisher may have of your work and it could give the impression of being too long, it is not but the more interest you get the better. And this book deserves the interest. CONGRATS on a good read.
BACKED by me for sure.....My book is a different genre but crossing over gave me the opportunity to comment and back your talent. Please take the time to comment on mine so I may improve my skill, and if you feel so back it.

Best of luck
Denise
The Letter

SusieGulick wrote 692 days ago

Dear Lauren, I love your scarey book - just for fun, I read the last paragraph of chapter 1 outloud (no one is here to hear me) with a shakey eerie voice (like Alfred Hitchcock's voice) & it really made the story - you should try it. :) Great job of writing! :) Your pitch is excellent, so set the hook for me to read your book. :) When you use short paragraphs & lots of dialogue, it makes me want to keep reading to find out what's going to happen next. I'm backing your book. :) Could you please take a moment to back my TWO memoir books? Thanks. :) Love, Susie :)

This is information from authonomy (so beware of any other untrue information you may receive that is spam & not quotes of authonomy):
"When you back a book, it only improves the ranking of that book, not yours. However, the author whose book you are backing may decide to back your book also, in which case yes, your ranking would be improved"
"Every time you place a book on your bookshelf, your recommendation pushes the book up the rankings. And while that book sits on your bookshelf, your reputation as a talent spotter increases depending on how well that book performs."
backed :)
Love, Susie :)

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