The manor knew the moment she crossed its threshold.

Cold brushed the back of Skye Holloway’s neck, soft as breath. The great door closed behind her with a final, echoing hush, and the warmth of the outside world fell away. Portraits lined the walls — red-haired women with green eyes, watching. Waiting.

She had never been here before.

Yet the marble beneath her boots felt familiar. The air smelled of old stone and memory. And somewhere deep inside the house, something stirred, as if the land itself had recognized her blood and awakened.

Skye had come home.

The manor had been waiting.

Lila Merren has been dreaming of the motel sign since she was seven years old. The curved neon arch. The pink and blue glow. THE MOONLIGHT MOTEL. She’s drawn it a thousand times without knowing it was real—until her roommate’s … Continue reading →