A black cat lay on the porch of 13 Bigelow Street. She yawned and stretched, then looked at the men milling about in the street. Some were armed with bats, chains, and tire irons. All were clearly spoiling for a fight. After another yawn, the cat got up and wandered into the house. She found Grace Bigelow in her sewing room and mewed at her. “Trouble brewing, eh,” Grace said, smiling at the cat, “Guess I should have a loo...

The road disappeared behind me as I drove up the narrow, rugged gravel driveway to my family’s ancestral home. As I rounded a treacherous bend, the old house came into view. I was glad that I had thought to rent a 4x4 pickup for the trip. Years of abandonment and neglect had led to that bend being partially washed out. That washout was the first thing that I would have to fix if I decided to renovate and repair the old ho...

Something flew past the bedroom window as Shannon closed it for the night. The dark shape went by quickly, so quickly that Shannon could not really see what it was. Startled, she jumped back. “Probably just a bat or bird,” the young woman muttered as she quickly closed the window and curtains. She did not quite believe that. The shadow passing through the night had seemed too big for any wildlife. Shannon scurried to the...