Read All Hallows Eve: A Krewe of Hunters Novella (1001 Dark Nights) Online
Authors: Heather Graham
Tags: #1001 Dark Nights, #ghosts, #Paranormal, #Heather Graham, #haunted, #Krewe of Hunters
All Hallows Eve: A Krewe of Hunters Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
All Hallows Eve
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
By Heather Graham
1001 Dark Nights
Copyright 2015 Heather Graham Pozzessere
ISBN: 978-1-940887-77-7
Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose
Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
All Hallows Eve
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
By Heather Graham
Salem was a place near and dear to Jenna Duffy and Samuel Hall -- it was where they’d met on a strange and sinister case.
They never dreamed that they’d be called back. That history could repeat itself in a most macabre and terrifying fashion.
But, then again, it was Salem at Halloween. Seasoned Krewe members, they still find themselves facing the unspeakable horrors in a desperate race to save each other-and perhaps even their very souls.
Heather Graham has been writing for many years and actually has published nearly 200 titles. So, for this page, we’ll concentrate on the Krewe of Hunters.
They include:
Actually, though, Adam Harrison—responsible for putting the Krewe together, first appeared in a book called
Haunted
. He also appeared in
Nightwalker
and has walk-ons in a few other books. For more ghostly novels, readers might enjoy the Flynn Brothers Trilogy—
Deadly Night
,
Deadly Harvest
, and
Deadly Gift
, or the Key West Trilogy—
Ghost Moon
,
Ghost Shadow
, and
Ghost Night
.
The Vampire Series
(now under Heather Graham/ previously Shannon Drake)
Beneath a Blood Red Moon
,
When Darkness Falls
,
Deep Midnight
,
Realm of Shadows
,
The Awakening
,
Dead by Dusk
,
Blood Red
,
Kiss of Darkness
, and
From Dust to Dust
.
For more info, please visit her web page,
http://www.theoriginalheathergraham.com
or stop by on Facebook.
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1001 Dark Nights story
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Table of Contents
An excerpt from When Irish Eyes Are Haunting by Heather Graham
One Thousand and One Dark Nights
Once upon a time, in the future…
I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.
I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and
the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast
library at my father’s home and collected thousands
of volumes of fantastic tales.
I learned all about ancient races and bygone
times. About myths and legends and dreams of all
people through the millennium. And the more I read
the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered
that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually
become part of them.
I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher
and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I
would not be telling you this tale now.
But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off
with bravery.
One afternoon, curious about the myth of the
Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to
see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar
(Persian:
شهریار
, “king”) married a new virgin, and then
sent yesterday’s wife to be beheaded. It was written
and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,
the vizier’s daughter, he’d killed one thousand
women.
Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived
in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged
places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had
never occurred before and that still to this day, I
cannot explain.
Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have
taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can
protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to
protect herself and stay alive.
Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.
And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a
point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.
And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that
he might hear the rest of my dark tale.
As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new
one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before
you now.
Come to me. Please, come to me.
The words seemed real to Elyssa Adair, like a whisper in her mind, as she looked up at the old mansion.
The Mayberry Mortuary was decked out in a fantastic Halloween décor, customary each year starting October 1. It sat high on a jagged bluff near the waterfront in Salem, Massachusetts. Just driving toward it, at night, was like being in a horror movie. Dense trees lined the paved drive and it was surrounded by a graveyard. The old Colonial building, when captured beneath the moonlight, seemed to rise from the earth in true Gothic splendor.
She shivered and looked around at her friends, wondering if the words had been spoken by one of them. Vickie Thornton and Barry Tyler sat in the backseat, laughing with one another and making scary faces. Nate Fox was driving, his dark eyes intent on the road.
No one in the car had spoken to her.
She gave herself a silent mental shake. She could have sworn she’d actually heard a whisper. Clear as day.
Come to me.
Strangely, she wasn’t afraid. She loved the artistry of Halloween—the fun of it—and few places in the world embraced the day like Salem.
This was home and she loved Salem, despite the sad history of witch trials and executions. A lot of that was steeped in lure and myth, but the local Peabody Essex museum and other historic venues seemed to go out of their way to remind visitors of the horror that came from petty jealousy and irrational fear.
“Boo,” Nate said, leaning toward her.
She jumped with a start.
She’d been deeply involved in her thoughts and the view of the old mansion. Nate, Vickie, and Barry all giggled at her surprise.
“Do you have to do that,” she murmured.
He frowned, his eyes back on the road. “Elyssa, we’ve done this every year since we were kids. So are you really scared now?”
“Of course not,” she said, and tried to smile.
She loved Nate. They were both just eighteen, but they’d been seeing one another since their freshman year. She was young, as everyone kept reminding her, but she knew that she would love him all of her life. Despite them being opposites. She was a bookworm, born and raised in the East, red hair and green eyes. He was from South Dakota, a Western boy, whose mom had been from nearby Marblehead but whose dad had been a half Lakota Sioux. He was tall and dark with fabulous cheekbones and a keen sense of ethics and justice. He was their high school’s quarterback, and she was debate team captain.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Last year, I played a zombie, remember?”
And what a role. She’d arose from the embalming table and attacked one of her classmates who’d played the mortician, terrifying the audience.
Nate grinned. “That you did. And what a lovely zombie you were.”
Please.
She heard the single word and realized no one in the car had spoken it. Instead, it had vocalized only in her mind. Incredibly, she managed not to react. Instead, she pointed out the windshield and said, “Looks like someone has decided to toilet-paper the gates.”
White streamers decorated the old wrought iron, which seemed original. Time had taken its toll on both the gates and the stone wall that had once surrounded the property. She’d never minded that such an historic property was transformed each year into one of the best haunted houses in New England. And despite the decorations, the house remained open daily until 3:00 P.M. for tours. It had been built soon after Roger Conant—the founder of Salem—moved to the area, around 1626, starting out as a one-room building. Nearly four hundred years of additions had blossomed it into a spacious mansion, the last editions coming way back in the Victorian era. In the early 1800s it had been consecrated as a Catholic church, deconsecrated by the 1830s when a new church had been built closer to town. Some said the site had then been used for satanic worship, taken over by a coven of black magic witches, but she’d never found any real support for those rumors. During the Civil War it served as a mortuary—drastically needed as the torn bodies of Union soldiers returned home. That continued until the 1950s when the VA made it a hospital for a decade. Finally, the Salem Society for Paranormal Studies bought the property. Along with historical tours, it offered tarot card and palm readings and ESP testing of anyone willing to pay the fee. The society had repaired and restored the old place, eventually garnering an historic designation, ensuring its continued preservation.