Status: A little co-written piece with the lovely HannaDarling. Chapters will be alternating first person view.

Her Love to Bury

Prolouge

The gravel road lay untouched, desolate. Not a traveler ever had need to walk it's length, to hear the crunch underfoot of the jagged little pebbles leading to that boarded up old house.

The Farnsbourough House.

An aura of disuse and decay clung to it's rafters like so much fog, permeating the broken windows, the cracks in the clapboard, the rotten wood of the veranda steps. No laughter was ever heard in the summer breeze, carrying across the overgrown grass and the hidden swamp. No light was ever seen illuminating the stained glass, casting shadows out into the inky darkness.

Not a soul was to be found.

Or so the story goes.

You know the sort. The regulation campfire tale told to keep the kiddies in line, to stop their breaking curfew. The kind of story heard on warm summer nights by wide-eyed teenage girls cuddled up in their boyfriend's sweatshirts secretly grateful to have a reason to feign terror and be caught in a tight embrace.

For whom truly believes in ghosts stories?
♠ ♠ ♠
Okay folks, this is just a quick little intro to what I hope will be a lovely little co-written story with Ms. HannaDarling. I will be writing the actual first chapter next but here's a little taste of what's to come. We will be writing alternating chapters from the first person point of view of our respective characters and we would greatly appreciate any bit of feedback you may have to give.

xoxoxo