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Grove of Night — Sara G. Harrell
THE HOUSE HAS A WOMAN AGAIN.
Rosemary Plantation has stood undisturbed since Sherman's army marched across Georgia. The grand house was built for a beautiful French bride whom the townspeople still whisper about. Solange Rabalais, it is said, died raving mad, pregnant with a child fathered by no man.
The lush, succulent rosemary hedges she brought from France still flourish. Wild now and overgrown, they seem to protect the house, smothering it almost in a thick, tangled embrace. Inside, the house has been quiet since the last woman to live there died alone, in terror, her frantic warnings unheeded.
But now the house again has a beautiful mistress, a young lady who does not believe in evil, who does not like superstitious gossip…who may be the perfect vessel for the vile, obscene passions of Hell.
Rosemary Plantation has stood undisturbed since Sherman's army marched across Georgia. The grand house was built for a beautiful French bride whom the townspeople still whisper about. Solange Rabalais, it is said, died raving mad, pregnant with a child fathered by no man.
The lush, succulent rosemary hedges she brought from France still flourish. Wild now and overgrown, they seem to protect the house, smothering it almost in a thick, tangled embrace. Inside, the house has been quiet since the last woman to live there died alone, in terror, her frantic warnings unheeded.
But now the house again has a beautiful mistress, a young lady who does not believe in evil, who does not like superstitious gossip…who may be the perfect vessel for the vile, obscene passions of Hell.
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