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The Midnight Heather of Bridee Castle — Beverly C. Warren
“The old castle is cursed. A mist-shrouded hell it is, Miss”.
Heather MacBride had grown up hearing the bloodcurdling tales about her family's ancestral castle. As a child she had vowed never to set foot in the tainted towers, but now destitute and alone, she had no choice but to accept her aunt's grudging offer to take her in, at least for a while.
Heather shuddered when she saw the tower of Bridee Castle looming above the wild and wintry moors like a medieval monster its crumbling castle keep behind it. And when she looked into the eyes of her Aunt Clarissa's boldly handsome stepson, John Ross, she knew what it was like to be stalked by a beast of prey, though his dark gaze promised passion.
Then a ghostly apparition floated across Heather's chamber, its eerie laughter shattering the midnight silence. Someone was trying to drive her away… Or over the edge. All was not as it seemed at Bridee Castle, and unless Heather could somehow stem the rising tide of evil, she would never escape the mist-shrouded towers.
Heather MacBride had grown up hearing the bloodcurdling tales about her family's ancestral castle. As a child she had vowed never to set foot in the tainted towers, but now destitute and alone, she had no choice but to accept her aunt's grudging offer to take her in, at least for a while.
Heather shuddered when she saw the tower of Bridee Castle looming above the wild and wintry moors like a medieval monster its crumbling castle keep behind it. And when she looked into the eyes of her Aunt Clarissa's boldly handsome stepson, John Ross, she knew what it was like to be stalked by a beast of prey, though his dark gaze promised passion.
Then a ghostly apparition floated across Heather's chamber, its eerie laughter shattering the midnight silence. Someone was trying to drive her away… Or over the edge. All was not as it seemed at Bridee Castle, and unless Heather could somehow stem the rising tide of evil, she would never escape the mist-shrouded towers.
