Olivia wallowed in the rapidly cooling bathwater, slipping slowly back towards sleep, knowing that she shouldn't sleep in the tub but too tired to care. Her thoughts tumbled like autumn leaves, in gusts and drifts of vivid-coloured dreamlike images. Downs...
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British Stories
Verity found Imogen in the kitchen, standing and staring in bewilderment at the kettle. The ghost sat carefully down at the table, folded her arms, put her head down, and burst into tears. Verity's first impulse was to put her arms around the old woman's...
Olivia woke with her head pounding, her vision blurred as a dark shape loomed over her, sickly-sweet floral perfume stifling her. Voices washing in and out like waves crashing on the shore. Fragments of memory exploded in her aching head. An impulse came...
An icy breath awoke Verity. She lay still, her eyes closed. "Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" asked a familiar elderly voice in the dark. Verity opened her eyes to see Imogen looking down at her. The cheerless watery light of morning shone through big...
By evening, Imogen had fallen into a doze in the chair by the fireplace, her nerves worn out, and Eli had vanished without a word. This left Verity practically alone, to examine her surroundings at her leisure. At the mantlepiece, she investigated the cur...
Black Dog - Chapter 9
Lockwood House is back in Imogen's ghostly hands, but at what cost?First of all, Grace wanted a room with a sturdy lock on the door: the werewolf's victim must be secured in readiness for her painful and disorienting first transformation. They chose the guest bedroom which Olive had already cleared of most furniture and...
Black Dog - Chapter 8
Events begin to spiral out of Imogen's control.It all happened so fast. Eli grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and the animal wilted into submission at once, whimpering. Olivia lay in the grass, still and silent. Imogen hung back, not daring to look. "Is she -" her voice wavered. Without touch,...
Black Dog - Chapter 7
Olivia is far closer to the ghosts and myths of Lockwood House than she realises.Olivia, despite warnings from her mother, intended to carry out as much of the redecorating as she could by herself, and had decided to try her hand at stripping the wallpaper in the guest bedroom. This latest flurry of activity fascinated the cats: sever...
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Black Dog - Chapter 6
A visitor interrupts Olivia's work on the house.Olivia woke to slippery blood on her thighs, her nightdress clinging. She got up, the cradle of leaden pain between her hips making her slow and clumsy as she stripped the sheets to see that she'd bled through to the mattress. This was not an auspicious s...
Black Dog - Chapter 5
Olivia's first night alone at Lockwood House.Twilight had surrendered to the full dark of night before Olivia remembered to call her mum and let her know that the funeral had proceeded without incident (mostly) and that she was settling in. "Don't forget it's only a couple of weeks before you start...
Black Dog - Chapter 4
Conflicting plans for the house are in the makings.A black cat almost tripped Olivia before she'd even crossed the threshold, winding around her shins in enthusiastic greeting, no doubt hoping for food. Auntie Imogen had always collected cats. China cats, to begin with. Cloth cats, carved wooden cats, cat...
Black Dog - Chapter 3
A messenger follows Olivia to the funeral.As the mourners filed into the pews, Olivia shuffled in amongst them, head down and focused on reaching her seat. She jumped when she felt a tap at her elbow, and looked round to find a small, pale young woman leaning over the back of the pew from the row...
Black Dog - Chapter 2
Imogen Lockwood is anxious as she attends her own funeral.Great soft snowdrifts of white roses filled the church. It looked more like a wedding than a funeral, made worse by the fact that on the morning of the big day, Imogen had found her clothes transformed into a wedding dress without her consent. She could o...
Black Dog - Chapter 1
A young woman inherits the long-sleeping family curse along with her aunt's house.Dear diary,I am dead! And working through a medium, hence this dreadful handwriting. The girl is very young The pale wisp of a girl holding the pen stopped, sitting back from the writing desk. "I'm not that young," she said. Her voice, light, and chirping...