Amazon
Category:
Young Adult/Teen
Publisher: publishamerica
ISBN-10: 1451299710
Type: Fiction
Pages: 297
ISBN-13: 9781451299717
Dark Secrets is a paranormal thriller. If you like demons, ghost hunting, mysteries and being scared to the point your heart stops then you will love this novel.
Katherine Roseland Thomas is a beautiful and intelligent seventeen year old, which until a few months ago preferred the solitary existence of a “Goth.” She had no idea that a dark destiny had been preordained. A fate kept secret until this time.
Arriving at the threshold of Roseland Plantation a cruel dormant ability thrusts its way from the depths of her psyche and opens the quiescent gateway to demonic entities and terrorizing visions.
The demon himself greets her inauguration into his world with feral eyes of hatred. The paranormal battle begins and the pain and suffering of many will fill her soul and body with excruciating horror.
Propelled into the dark demoralizing secrets of Roseland, Kat must discover the horrendous hidden truth and set free the lost souls held captive. She must become the light that will relinquish her birthright from the dark realm of Charles Kenner Roseland.
Excerpt
Taking a deep breath Syntia led Kat to a marble bench nestled beside a fragrant hedge of white flowers.
Kat looked around. Some of the forlorn feelings from before began to creep back into her heart. The sadness of the ancient graves pulled heavily on her empathy. “Why did you bring me here?”
“I believe that in order to resurrect the past you must be where the past is buried. Sit down child and listen. These truths have been passed down from generation to generation.” She patted the seat beside of her.
Kat set down. Whether it was the coldness of the marble seeping through her black skirt or this place she wasn’t sure, but she shivered from the inside out.
“Long ago a young man by the name of Clayton Isaiah Roseland met and married a beautiful young lady named Katherine Marie Kenner. He was by all means a very wealthy young man. He was the eldest son of Charles Claiborne Roseland, who owned at one time all the land as far as you could see, in any direction.
“Katherine was a tiny little thing with glorious golden hair and gentle blue eyes. Very much like you. She was shy and kind, and her voice was that of an angel when she spoke. When they married they were gifted the very prosperous Roseland Plantation by his father and they were deeply happy. Soon Katherine found she was with child. Isaiah was beside himself with pride and happiness. He showered her with gifts from all around the world. He wanted her surrounded by beauty and wonder. It wasn’t long after that their beautiful fairy tale grew dark.” Syntia stopped for just a moment as if to gage whether to continue.
Kat set quietly and waited.
“My great grandmother Ezell was her house slave, her ladies maid. She had been with Katherine since the age of fifteen and Mistress Katherine was but a child of five. When Katherine married Charles she stayed with the young bride and moved to Roseland to assist in the overseeing of the great mansion. So, we have been guardians of Roseland, since the beginning.”
Kat was embarrassed to find out that Syntia was the great granddaughter of slaves that her family once owned. She was ashamed. Not knowing what to say she simply remained quiet.
“The mistress’s pregnancy was not an easy one. She became very ill and in the final months, very disoriented. She believed that evil demons wanted the child and these demons came to her demanding she deliver the child to them. Many doctors were summoned to the manor and not one could keep the terrifying hallucinations from driving poor Katherine to the verge of insanity.
“On the night of her labor there was an ominous undercurrent surrounding the mansion. Thunder reverberated loudly in the heavens, shaking the house and all that were in it. The night sky swarmed and danced as mountains of dark clouds rolled and formed themselves into an infestation anger. Yet the air was unmoving, thick and suffocating.
“Blinding bolts of lightening ripped through the night. Their deadly tendrils of pulsating brilliance, illuminating the dark woods on the out skirts of the plantation. Slaves in the late evening fields fell to their knees praying to long forgotten Gods of their homeland. Horrified screams from women and children in the shoddy slave houses echoed into the chaos. Believing that spirits of the dead were walking the earth in search of souls to gather and take back to the depths of the underworld. They huddled into corners on the dirt floors, terrified, begging to be passed over by the beastly demons of the dark. In the end, when the sun rose, mutilated corpses were found scattered through the fields. No one spoke of this. They burned the remains so they could not rise and become soldiers of the undead.
“The mid-wife that was to have delivered the babe never arrived. She was found many days later, decapitated, hanging upside down from the branches of a tree. No trace of blood any where in the vicinity of the body. It was told that she lost control of her wagon. The reins some how becoming wrapped around her neck. When the out of control horses veered off the road hitting a rut she was thrown upward, the bound reins snapping her head off. The horses were found in the forest dead, with no wounds of any kind. Fear still evident in their bulging eyes. The severed head of the poor mid-wife was never found.”
Kat was spellbound by the horrifying tale. This was the history of her family?
“The master of the house was away, that is what men did in those days. He gave strict instructions that he was to be informed the moment the babe arrived.
“This was a good thing, for the birthing of this babe was not an easy one. It was not the joyful occasion that women had endured for endless years. Instead, pandemonium rained throughout the plantation. Terrified house slaves hid under tables and in cupboards. Faithful servants ran from the room covering their ears, as the mistress screamed in fear of unseen creatures attempting to steal the baby from her womb. Hours upon hours passed and horrific terror filled wails emanated into the hallway embedding the walls forever with pain. The temperature fell inside the house, causing a thick layer of frost to cover the windows. The frantic thunder continued to rage outside. Over and over again like the pounding of a great drum. Lightening persisted to ignite the fields of the plantation in strobes of blinding light.
“Then when hysteria threatened to consume all, dead silence filled the manor. The thunder stopped. The lightening ceased. The sensation of being surrounded by ungodly wickedness disappeared.
“The door to the birthing room opened, releasing the foulest odor any human could imagine. Ezell slowly stepped out. In the horror of the past thirteen hours her midnight black hair had turned prematurely gray. Deep sad wrinkles lined her once smooth ebony face.
Her body trembling from fatigue looked at the man servant and said, “Fetch the master. Tell him his son is born.” Turning she reentered the silent room.
When Young Master Roseland returned he was shocked by the state of his home. Slaves still frightened from the night’s ordeal were hiding along the stairs. The sickening foul odor that filled the home made him ill. Running up the stairs he demanded to enter his wife’s room.
“Get out of my way! Where is my wife!” When no answer came he drew back his walking cane to hit one of the servants.
“Stop!” Ezell yelled at him. Then remembering herself lowered her head, “Forgive dis old slave Master Roseland, it been a long night. Mistress Roseland awaits you here.”
“And the baby? My son?”
“He too waits.” Turning she lead the way into his wife’s chambers. Silence was all anyone could hear as they listened outside the door. When the master exited his face was ashen and overwhelmed with horror. His eyes were filled with disgust. Glaring at the slaves around him he grabbed the largest of the men and pulling him to his feet, slammed him against the wall beside his wife’s door.
“No one is to enter.”
Ezell stepped beside of him, “Master Roseland please.”
“That thing in there is not my son.” Turning he stormed away.
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