Prologue

August 1901

My bare feet sank clumsily into the muddy ground and my lungs filled with the damp summer air.

I struggled to push through the darkness as I watched the lingering mist seem to block the view between the trees.

“Mother!” I cried out.

I ran through the scene in my mind. My mother had been dragged into the pitch black, the white of her nightgown flashing in my vision before vanishing out of sight. And now she was gone.

“CONNOR!” my mother screamed, pleading in the dark. Her voice was strangled and echoed around me.

I had no way of knowing where she was, but I kept pushing forward.

I sprinted across the fields towards the looming silhouettes of the tree line. Could this have just been a nightmare? I kept playing it over and over but I knew this was real.

My mother wasn’t in bed, she was dragged. Why would my mind play tricks on me? I couldn’t fail father, not after what he had done to protect us. I slung my father’s hunting rifle around my shoulder ready to act. I would be brave.

I charged ahead until I felt my feet skid to a halt at the edge of the tree line. The night was a black void as my eyes desperately searched for any movement.

Finally, my eyes adjusted to the moonlight. I heard it. Footsteps. A branch snapped under the weight of something I couldn’t see.

“Mother?” I called out, my voice cracking from the strain, burning as if it turned hoarse.

Nothing.

Then I whipped my head around to the sound of footsteps rushing past me. I looked down, finally seeing something in the darkness. My mother’s footprints…or at least what could be.

I knelt down to examine the marks in the cold mud. Definitely dragged. A trail of large boots imprinted into the mud, pulling the weight of my mother behind them.

I looked up, catching flash of white cotton fabric disappearing deeper into the trees. That cursed place. I felt my skin immediately prickle at the danger that awaited me. What was I to do now?

Be brave. I swallowed, readying the rifle as I finally working up the nerve. I took a quick step into the woods, ignoring my body and soul screaming not to move forward.

The summer haze began to grow as the air remained disturbingly still. No animal dared to scurry through this place; and, now I was diving right into the heart of this ominous plane.

I stopped for only a moment. The church’s cross peaked above the silhouetted town. I should have called for help. But…I couldn’t afford to lose more time. Not again. I would not let another person succumb to this place.

I forced my legs to carry me forward. I listened to every inch of this forest as I searched anxiously for any sign of my mother.

“Mother!”

I heard a crack in the branches and a whimper. I followed the sound feverishly, hoping and praying to close the gap, but as the noise ceased, I realized I was approaching a clearing. I stopped.

The adrenaline had my heart pounding. I looked up to where a large, ancient oak tree stood. Its branches were twisted, stretching further and further towards the sky. The muck surrounding my bare feet gave me goosebumps, but my shivering wasn’t because I was cold. It was a hot late night. No. Something that screamed deep inside me.

Then…I realized the ground below my feet had changed. It was no longer softened by the damp summer air. Now it was this dry, ash and dust as if it wasn’t affected by the rest of the elements. Even the sight of it was gray and dare I say dead. As my eyes examined the tree, it had an aura about it that dominated the clearing. Something was off.

I looked back down at the ground. My mother’s tracks were gone as if she had turned into a ghost in mere moments. I failed. I cursed under my breath and kicked the ground in frustration. My throat stung as tears formed in my eyes and I found myself cursing. I was all alone. I began to feel lightheaded and stumbled, catching myself along the large protruding roots of the twisting tree. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing.

There was nothing. No more footsteps, not even a trace of someone even crossing the clearing. My mother had just vanished, and it was far too quiet. I began to panic as I cautiously searched around. Did something trick me into thinking my mother would just wander out here alone? It wouldn’t be too far-fetched considering the curse of this place.

Something dropped onto the ground, making me jump out of my skin. I turned and the hair on the back of my neck stood up instantly.

My mother’s cross. I hastily picked it up. It was covered in blood. The lace around the neck was now torn and stained. My stomach turned and my body froze. That’s when I felt it. Something was watching me. And it was predatory.

I steadied my grip on the rifle, cocked it and held it at the ready.

I heard a crack and I spun, ready to fight.

Nothing. There was nothing in the clearing. I was so thrown off that I felt myself scoffed in disbelief. This place must have a way of tricking people. And I didn’t like it one bit.

My eyes fell back to my hands, silver cross dangling on that bright blue ribbon. Mother.

I gripped it tightly in my palm. What was I to do now?

I felt the breeze kick up as I looked above me. There was a fluttering of fabric caught on the branches of the trees. My mouth dropped and the necklace fell out of my grip.

Feet dangled then the bright blonde hair, pale skin. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“MOTHER!” I screamed, feeling as if my voice could’ve awoken the whole town for miles.

I turned to run for help, but a cloaked figure with a hidden face forcefully grabbed my neck. The rifle dropped from my hands and landed at my feet.

“Stupid boy,” a voice hissed. “You made this too easy.”

Swirling, black smoke blasted from their fingertips. Then everything went black.

***

Blackwood Hollow is a fictionalized supernatural horror mystery, self-published and available on ebook, paperback and hardcover. Check out where to buy globally or contact me directly!

Blackwood Hollow:

Connor Sullivan always knew that there was something wrong with his hometown of Blackwood Hollow, NJ. Mysterious deaths and missing persons cases seemed more common than they should for such a small, isolated place. Some even believed it to be a “curse.” After the tragic death of his parents, Connor became a private investigator spending years trying to follow even the smallest lead to the disappearances to no avail. Whether it was monsters or men among them, not even Connor had been able to connect the dots. When a good friend, Reverend Bill Donovan calls over a domestic dispute involving one of his parishioners, Evelyn Fields, Connor’s curiosity is piqued enough to take up the case. Connor couldn’t have predicted that this one case would begin the domino effect which may very well lead him to finally solve the mysteries that surround Blackwood Hollow.