The Hidden Door, Book 1

Secrets of Thornbury Woods

What deadly secrets still lurk beneath Hawthorne Hall?

The mysterious estate stood empty for a decade, adding to its haunted mystique. Only a few know the true, tragic story from its hidden depths.

Knox Pearson and his close band of friends bonded over that tragedy. Now they have a vision for re-opening Hawthorne Prep School: help at-risk teens. It’s a path to redemption for the sins of their past. But he isn’t sure he will ever escape the crushing guilt from that fateful night long ago.

Sara Rutherford has battled to build her renovation business despite being a town outcast. Her natural talent and uncanny ability to “read” inanimate objects helped her make headway and defy the powers-that-be who try to subvert her success. Now her Uncle Lou, who was working at Hawthorne Hall, has gone missing. Sara’s not the woman to stop searching…and she suspects the secret passage in the estate’s library holds the key to her questions.

Knox isn’t about to let her loose unsupervised on his property, so they team up to explore the underground tunnels together. When they discover the hidden sanctuary of a long forgotten secret society, Knox’s secrets can no longer hide in the shadows. But this time, it just might cost Sara her life.

Discover a new gothic southern romance series, inspired by the romantic mystery stories of Phyllis A Whitney and Mary Stewart.

SNEAK PEEK

Running through the misty black night. Heart hammering. Sucking hard for breath. Barely able to make out the shape of the trees as she sped by. Unable to hear her pursuers over her gasps for air and pounding footsteps in the crunchy leaves.

Just the memory of that night, Sara’s only night on the grounds of what was now Hawthorne Preparatory School, had the power to jumpstart a racing heart. She wasn’t sure why. She’d long ago convinced herself that what she’d seen and heard had all been in her pre-teen imagination. The hands grabbing at her. The struggle to get away. The sounds of someone chasing her.

Her cousins had tried to scare her in retaliation for having to drag her along, she was sure. They’d vehemently denied it all these years. But standing here now, facing the ornate entry in the heavy morning mist, she told herself that it had to have been a joke played on her younger self.

Why it would even faze her as a full-grown, capable adult with the weight of the world on her shoulders, she didn’t know. Sara was far too practical for that…now.

Still, that residual adrenaline mixed with her present-day fear for her family, clouding her judgment of the murky surroundings and looming mansion before her.

She’d like to think she wasn’t intimidated by much anymore. She’d been in hairier situations while bailing out her uncle and a plethora of aunts and cousins from their bad choices, but her instincts were screaming that whatever was beyond the massive front door was more than all that drama combined.

Oddly enough, Hawthorne Prep had also been the building that made Sara’s hands itch and her heart beat a little bit harder…usually with excitement. Once known as the Ashley estate, there were over fifty rooms, multiple outbuildings, and land that stretched farther than the eye could see. Her daddy and uncle would tell her about the unusual additions to the mansion, including an indoor pool long before that was a thing and the hand-built church in the now-abandoned village.

Even when she’d been a child working in the woodshop, learning woodworking first-hand at her daddy’s knee, her dad would talk about the time he’d helped build the glass dome in the winter garden conservatory or the legendary spiral staircase in the two-story library. Sara would get all fidgety thinking about the history and the grandeur, the many craftsmen who had labored over the creations here—just like she would someday.

Only she hadn’t imagined her first official visit to be under these circumstances.

In the early Tennessee spring morning, she stood in a thick gray mist, staring up at the imposing stone facade. The impulse to find a side door—one just for the worker bees—rose inside of her. Two weeks from now, when she joined her uncle on the library renovation job they had landed, she would have done just that. Joyfully fulfilling the dreams of her childhood.

But today…today she had to march through that impressive front door despite her worn jeans and work boots. Today she wanted answers—fuck the job.

She needed to know what had happened last night. Uncle Lou was in trouble.

Clenching her teeth, she straightened her shoulders and marched up the short stone steps, ignoring the swirl of the fog around her boots and the eerie silence, so unnatural for a massive estate that had been turned into its second iteration of a preparatory school. This one for at-risk teen boys.

Nothing spooky here. Time to put aside scary childhood memories.

Despite the heavy reluctance weighing down her limbs, Sara grasped the ornate metal knocker and slammed it down three times. Why they would still adhere to this old-fashioned method instead of a modern doorbell or even a camera, she didn’t understand. Especially since she’d heard they were already hosting their first class of test students before the grand re-opening but she had to admit it added to the ambience.

It made her grateful for the softly worn leather gloves she wore. Goodness only knew how many people had touched this very knocker. She had enough emotions rolling through her without taking on any others.

The door emitted a deep creak as it eased open a few inches, sending unnecessary shivers racing over her skin. Sara found herself facing Cassius, the long-time caretaker of the estate. Seemed like he’d been here a hundred years—though she knew that wasn’t true—but he sure looked it.

Guess the knocker wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed.

“Yes,” he said. His stern tone turned the simple word into a command rather than the expected question.

Sara shouldn’t be surprised. Cassius had always been the epitome of grouchy, scary custodian, reminiscent of another era where shooting at people to get them off your lawn was completely acceptable here in the South. Well, that might still work for some people. Not exactly the image the new estate owners should be going for, but the fact that they’d kept him employed after over forty years of service was a credit to them.

“Cassius, it’s Sara. Sara Rutherford.”

The sour expression on his craggy face didn’t change. He simply stared through her as if he didn’t recognize her—or didn’t want to.

“Sara of Rutherford Restorations?” she pushed. “I’m here to check on Uncle Lou.”

His milky gaze finally connected with hers before flicking down her front. “You don’t have an employee badge.”

What did that have to do with anything? Impatience mixed with her fears, causing her to shift closer. Still, she tried to mitigate her clipped tone. Yes, he was old, but she knew he could be a little set in his ways.

“I know. I don’t start here until next week. But I need to see my uncle. He started renovating the library, remember?”

Cassius narrowed the gap in the doorway as if afraid she would push her way inside. So he did remember her, but she only became pushy when pushed. She’d stay professional…for now.

The extreme pull between her fears and the desire to keep this renovation job warred within her. She’d dreamed of working on that spiral staircase in the library since the first time her daddy had described it to her. It was one of her life goals. But she needed inside now. Not next week.

If she could just see the library, touch Lou’s tools, then she would know.

She crowded closer, her boots bumping against the threshold of the door. “Is Lou here?”

The door swung a few inches closer. His aged, lined face seemed to grow even deeper crags as his watery gaze flicked over her. His wrinkly lips drew up in a knot. “Only employees are allowed inside. Mr. Knox’s orders.”

“I realize that, Cassius,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to control herself by a thin thread. “But I’m here to see Lou. I need to know if he came to work today. I’m his boss, remember?”

“Sorry,” he snapped from between thin lips. “Employees only.”

Was Cassius just being his usual difficult self? Or was there another reason he didn’t want her to see her uncle?

She narrowed her gaze on him as he moved to swing the door shut. Sara slammed her work boot into the disappearing gap. Luckily the steel toes protected her foot from the impact. Patience was now gone. “Look, I don’t care who you need to talk to, but I am not leaving until I see my uncle. Got it?”

So much for professionalism. His eyes widened but she no longer cared. Family came first. Even if she lost the job, Lou was all that mattered. He’d been her rock since he’d sobered up four years ago, and she couldn’t lose him now.

Fear and anger mingled below her skin. “Now let me in.” For once she could live up to her undeserved rep as a hard-assed bitch in this town.

She had a fraction of a second to register the surprise dawning on Cassius’s face before something heavy slammed into her from behind and drove her shoulder into the solid side of the centuries-old door-frame.

Pain reverberated through Sara’s shoulder on her way through the door, then exploded in her head as it also slammed into the frame. The pressure from behind kept her moving forward, her legs stumbling to keep up. She was several feet through the door when strong hands jerked her to stop.

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