About the BryonySeries: McSorley’s Old Ale House

Cindy, who makes our Ribbit-Ribbits, announced at our marketing dinner in December that she and her family would be spending New Year's Eve at Times Square and a few days in New York, seeing "the sights."

At the time, Cindy didn't have any "sights" in mind. So I suggested a few.

Because the BryonySeries prequel "Before The Blood" is part historical fiction, I created the "feel" of the time and locations by lightly blending real landmarks and events into the overall story.

One landmark was McSorley's Old Alehouse, which was established in 1854.

McSorley's Old Alehouse appears twice in the first installment of the BryonySeries prequel "Before the Blood" (excerpts to follow below the photos).

But first, a few facts about this old establishment, which was closed to women until 1974 and opened its first women's restroom in 1986.

 

The floor is covered with sawdust, the bar has no stools and no cash register, and the space is frequently standing room only. And no beer: only light or dark ale.

The menu still has original items, such as turkey and the famous cheese, cracker, and raw onion plate. 

Cindy actually went back a second time for the wishbones, which she didn't notice the first time. 

The legend is that McSorley's gave patrons off to fight in World War I a free turkey dinner before they left. These patrons hung their wishbones, to split when they returned.

Legend says these old dusty McSorley wishbones are from soldiers who never returned to claim them.

Now for the excerpts:

Excerpt No. 1

Helsby looked at John.

            "The ladies of the church are hosting a tea in Miss Bartlett's honor this afternoon. When I return from escorting her, would you accompany me to McSorley's? The ale, raw onions, and turkey all are first rate, I promise you. It's just we two. Tommy is busy with his studies."

            "The villa's host is scorning the toque?"

            "Alas, the host's culinary skills are so poor, even the lads on the roof won't touch his dinners."

            "Then McSorley's it is."

            "I shan't be long. If you like, you may play piano in the parlor. The music won't disturb Tommy. He's deaf in one ear."

            The door closed, and John, deliberately ignoring the leaning floor and the scrabbling behind the faded wallpaper, wandered into the parlor. For all its shabbiness, the flat was clean. Poverty, at least for the future Mr. and Mrs. Helsby, didn't equal substandard housekeeping, although the abode could have used a picture here and there and perhaps a potted plant or two to lighten its bleakness.

            A small upright that shouted "scrap heap" pressed against one wall. John plunked a yellow key and winced at its reply. Taking a pass on torture, John gazed out the window and tried to envision what Savannah might be doing. Next year, John vowed, Helsby and his wife would spend their summer at the farm. He wondered if either of them could ride. Well, no matter. Between him and Savannah, it would simple to teach...

            "Well, this is truly a first: Master John and a silent piano occupying the same room. I'd not have believed if my own eyes hadn't witnessed it."

            John started from the reverie and turned from the window. "I didn't hear you come in."

            "I'm quieter than mice. Ready?"

            "Yes. Are we walking?"

            "No, it's too far. I've called for a cab. And no, you shan't pay for it. It's my treat. I've been saving for it."

            Lined up on the sidewalk outside the pub at 15 East 7th Street were empty barrels, all bearing the lettering McSorley's. The sign above the door extended from  one end of the building to the other and read, McSorley's Old Ale House: Established 1854. Inside, sawdust covered the dark wood floors; tintype photographs and Harrigan and Hart playbills lined the walls. After inquiring if John would prefer the porter or the cream ale, Helsby ordered for them both and found a table.

            "So don't be mum, Master John. What's her name?"

            "Savannah Holloway."

            Helsby leaned forward, eyes alight, the color rising in his cheeks. "The robber baron's widow?"

            Inwardly, John smiled. He had forgotten Helsby's fascination with society news.

            "The very same, Helsby."

            "However did you meet her? Through your father?"

            "You could say that."

            Their meal arrived. Each man bowed his head for a silent prayer. After swallowing a generous forkful of turkey, Helsby asked, "And you're actually engaged?"

            "Yes."

            He shook his head and cut another slice. "A pity she had a conflict, but I suppose she must be quite occupied with finances. Mr. Holloway had amassed a substantial fortune."

            "My interest is Savannah, not her money."

            Astonished, Helsby set the fork down. "I never meant to imply otherwise. I only wished to say her affairs must keep her busy. But, as they say, marriage requires many sacrifices, and they often begin well before the 'I do's.'"

            "So it seems, Helsby, so it seems."

Excerpt No. 2

Ticket sales remained high for days, despite the effects of an ice storm that lasted all week, another fallout from January's blizzard. One afternoon, soon after the temperatures rose, and as John had launched into his final practice piece, Henry walked up to him.

             "I dying to try McSorley's. Shall we?"

            They took a cab to lower Manhattan, with Henry chatting all the way about New York's cantankerous weather, how it kept him busy with news articles all winter, even as it ruined one suit after another. Despite Henry's fine manners, he seemed equally at home with the rustic McSorley's as he had been inside Delmonico's.

            Not until John picked up his ale and took a long drink, the type of drink Jackson would approve, did he dare ask, "So Lord Girard's ward enjoys reporting?"

            "I never said I enjoyed it." Henry raised his glass to his lips and sipped it. "Well, this is quite good."

             "Writing is not your passion?" John couldn't fathom why anyone as rich as Henry was would engage in business he did not enjoy, especially when he need not engage in business at all.

            "Journalism is not my passion," Henry set down his glass. "But writing most certainly is, the main reason for my marriage to Agnes King."

            "I don't understand."

            Henry held out the plate. "Soda cracker?"

              John shook his head, still watching Henry.  

             "I prefer shocking to informing." Henry grabbed another cracker. "Supernatural stories, not news stories.

            "I see."

            "But penning content for dime novels doesn't pay Fifth Avenue rent."

            "You're renting? On Fifth Avenue? But I thought..."

            "That I subsisted off Lord Girard's riches? Hardly."

            "And a reporter's salary covers those expenses?"

            Amusement on his lips. Henry took out a card, inscribed something on it, and then passed it to John. "This is my address. You're welcome to call on me."

             John read the card. His eyes widened. Henry merely cut another slice of turkey and said, "I see you recognize the address. My, did Mr. Russell have plenty to say about you when my story broke."

            "About?"

             "About how Little Lonnie, who's not quite so little anymore, would be so accomplished if you hadn't abandoned your commitment to teaching 'the dear one.'"

            Henry, John thought, for all his dandyisms, understood more than he showed.

            "So," John said, deciding no further remarks about the Russells were necessary, "you intend to use the King family riches to further your goals?"

            "Not exactly, no. I view it as an exchange of resources. Trust me, Agnes King is, and will be, amply compensated."

            "I still don't comprehend why you must marry Agnes when you have Lord Girard as a...resource."

            Henry waved for the bill and then leaned forward with a sly look.

            "Lord Girard is fairly young and healthy, making an early demise and acquisition of his inheritance unlikely for some time."

            "That's cold."

            "See here, John, don't act so coy. You and I, we are nearly the same."

            "How so?"

            "Similar resources, congruent goals, but..." Henry grinned impishly. "... different applications."

            John said nothing.

Denise Versus The Cabinet Door

So my month of "horror" began on January 27 with this upper cabinet/pantry door.

It looks like a regular door, doesn't it?

And it is a regular door. Because you know the old saying, "Doors don't do stupid things. People do stupid things."

Keep that saying in mind as we scroll along.

Now here is a photo of that upper cabinet/pantry door in context. 

Forgive the food sitting on the counter, waiting to be put away. We're coming out of two weeks of sickness at our home, and we definitely set our priorities (cleaning and organizing fell off the list).

Now just beyond that "window" over the kitchen sink (near the paper towel roll) is technically a dining room. But we use it for our coffee bar area. 

Tiny likes to sit under the coffee bar (my grandmother's dresser repurposed). He also likes to eat near the coffee bar.

I suppose "likes to eat" is a bit of an exaggeration. Tiny does not (overall) like to eat, unless we're talking treats or grapes.

So mealtimes with Mr. Tiny are elaborate affairs, where someone needs to sit near him and coax him to eat. He loves food once he gets going. So that's not the problem.

We suspect Tiny, as the runt of his litter in a breeder home, also landed on the empty bowl side of mealtime, since he seems to be "saving" the food instead of eating it.

He also has some digestive issues, with all tests negative for all sorts of gastrointestional health things along with allergies.

Anyway, we have a trainer Tiny likes and a veterinarian we like sorting that mess out. That's just a little background for the fun to come.

So during this particular time in January, we were trying a special canned food for Tiny that he did seem to like and eat on his own.

The problem is that one could only put a bit in his bowl at the time. If one gave Tiny too much, he wouldn't eat it. If one dawdled too long in refilling the bowl, he walked away and wouldn't eat it.

Also, this particular food is quite sticky. One can't simply set a giant blob in Tiny's bowl for him to figure out (he doesn't). The blob needs to to be fork cut (or spoon or knife cut) into manageable chunks and then slid into his bowl before he quites finishes the previous blobby chunks.

So timing - and great speed - are key here.

Now for a little more background.

Faith was having her own challenging January. Although her blood tests were normal, she was eating and drinking more (a lot more) to keep up with her fluid and calories requirements (and failing).

Oh, and appliances were breaking in the house at record speed. This resulted in everyone running on fumes and reduced sleep just to responsibly address all the challenges (PS: All but one appliance is till not fixed).

So back to January 27.

Rebekah and I had just returned from a WriteOn Joliet meeting, and Daniel (who was busy with something in that moment) asked me to feed Tiny.

So before I even went upstairs to check on Faith, I took care of my tiny little adorable Pembroke Welsh Corgi. 

Remember that spot on the counter where the food and acorn squash are sitting? That space was bare, and I was using that space to cut up food for Tiny and rushing it around the corner before he ate the previous serving.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, at - oh, I estimate twenty miles per hour.

On the final trip, my face smashed into the open cabinet door, just like in a Saturday morning cartoon.

I thought I'd broken my face. My glasses were twisted. I'm thinking concussion, retinal detachment etc. as I raced to the freezer for ice.

Rebekah, who was equally tired and even more dehydrated than Faith, had blearily gone into the cabinet for powdered electrolyte solution, which she set on the island to mix. She was going to close the door after she mixed the drink and put the solution away.

She never thought I would not see a cabinet door of that size open to its full width.

But I was in "Tiny Zoomy mode" and running on autopilot and paying attention to absolutely nothing else.

Daniel finished feeding Tiny while I iced my face.

Timothy reformed my glasses (my only pair, and I'm blind without them) while I iced my face.

Rebekeh checked on Faith and gave Faith her night meds while I iced my face.

Was it a God thing? My swiftness in grabbing ice?

Whatever the reason, I escaped the whole incident relatively unscathed.

No swelling.

No bruising.

Just slight tenderness above my left eyebrow to my hairline.

But before we embarked on a really rough February...

...Tiny meekly (more or less, mostly less) finished his food and brought me a toy, ready to play.

Frédéric Chopin - Spring Waltz

 Anyone new to the BryonySeries blog might wonder why I post piano music on Sundays and how that fits into the BryonySeries world.

That's because one character - John Simons - was a nineteenth century world-renowned pianist and composer before he died and became a vampire.

This is a lovely, lively classical piece that is perfect for new beginnings of all kinds. 

Enjoy!

Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara, Receives a Birthday Limerick

Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara, BryonySeries author and Irish vampire character, reads the birthday limerick WriteOn Joliet member Recapper Jenny presented to Ed on Calkins Day (Feb. 13) 2026 at The Book Market in Crest Hill.

Story Round-Up: Features in The Herald-News, Feb. 20 through March 6

 Good morning!

I have sixteen stories online to share with you today, more this week than usual because the stomach bug prevented me from posting the round-up last week.

More stories will go live over the weekend and next week. So please check back at shawlocal.com/the-herald-news.

To see the stories that ran in print this week and aren't online yet, click on the e-edition option at the top of The Herald-News website.

Before the stories, I also have a list of additional updates, resources, and information. Please check them out, too.

And if you'd like to find more kindness in your life, consider this book.

And have a great Friday!

Calendar

The BryonySeries calendar offers links to games, crafts, music, activities, science experiments, and  recipes that pick up themes to one or more of our books.

For January, all activities center around becoming your best self.

To participate, visit bryonyseries.com/ourcalendar.

Events (or where to find the BryonySeries) - so far:

Due to a recent slew of family (human and pet) emergencies these past few weeks, we have not (yet) scheduled another appearance. But that doesn't mean we aren't planning any and will update you soon.

In the meantime, please check out our books by popping into The Book Market in Crest Hill (if you live in the area) or bookshop.org or Amazon if you don't. 

Also, many titles are available at the Joliet Public Library and the Downers Grove Public Library.

Please note: Bookshop and the libraries do not carry all of our books.

What is the BryonySeries?

Please read "Books of the BryonySeries: A Quick Overview"

For more information on the developing "parent brand" that is removing some of the heavy marketing lifting from me, visit bryonyseries.com/blocks.

BryonySeries books-in-progress

Bertrand the Mouse: We have plenty of Bertrand photos and ideas. Several are at the top of the list. At some point, we will assemble and release some more.

The Adventures of Cornell Dyer: Cornell Dyer and the House of Horreur" (because the toymaker's last name is "Horreur.") is finally begun, although albeit very slowly. I'd like to get enough done over the next month or so to finally give Sue Midlock (our artist for The Adventures of Cornell Dyer) some ideas for the book's cover and chapter heading illustrations.

Brainy Ann: The fifth book in The Girls of the BryonySeries is outlined and four chapters are written, hurray! Jennifer Wainwright has finished the cover portrait. I let this book slide for other BryonySeries projects. But the goal is to release "Brainy Ann" in 2026.

Jennifer designed the cover portraits for "Julie and the Too-Hard Homework," "Katie and the Big Fear," "Summer Sisters." and "Karla Joins In," as well as the frontispiece for "Lycanthropic Summer."

Other books: I am not writing a novel this year. But I have an idea for a BryonySeries Christmas anthology that I'd like to release in 2026. We also have a prologue/first chapter sampler of all the BryonySeries novels that's only available at certain events.

Rebekah is also slowly (very, very slowly) updating the BryonySeries YouTube and Pinterest accounts. And she' catching up with Kindles for some of the BryonySeries books. So do watch for those.

For books and more information about the series, visit bryonyseries.com.

RECIPE OF THE WEEK

Sue's Diner is a fictional restaurant in the fictional Munsonville that only exists in the BryonySeries.

Each Wednesday, we post a new recipe. The recipe is either featured in one of our cookbooks, will be featured in an upcoming cookbook, or is just an "extra" we want to share with you.

Check out the weekly recipe here.

WRITERS

If you're a writer anywhere in the world, you're welcome to join WriteOn Joliet's Facebook page. We're based in Joliet, Illinois, but we love to meet and interact with writers outside our area, too.

If you'd like to officially join WriteOn Joliet, we have two tiers of dues and two ways to attend meetings. We also have a marketing arm that's getting longer every year. Check us out at writeonjoliet.com.

I also suggest this book: Little Book of Revision: A Checklist for Fiction Writers. It's exactly as it says. Each page some with one suggestion for revision. The rest of the page is blank, so you can add your own notes. All proceeds benefit WriteOn Joliet.

If you need editing or help with self-publishing, check out dmbaranunland.com.

ARTISTS

If you need an artist for a project, I offer these recommendations.

NEWSLETTERS

Sign up for The Munsonville Times by emailing us at bryonyseries@gmail.com. The newsletter still isn't official yet, so we don't have an actual link on the website - but we are working on it! 

SOCIAL MEDIA

Daily updates: I haven't posted anything on Twitter/X (except a daily Bible verse) since September I can no longer schedule posts in advance. I'm not sure yet how to manage the account without that option. But you're welcome to follow me at @Denise_Unland61.

BryonySeries stuff: I used to curated content relating to the BryonySeries on Twitter/X at @BryonySeries and still post assorted related content at facebook.com/BryonySeries, youtube.com/user/BryonySeries, and themes of each book in the BryonySeries at pinterest.com/bryonyseries.

Again, not sure yet about the direction of the BryonySeries Twitter/X account. Still mulling that over.

And of course, please follow the adventures of Bertrand the Mouse on Instagram at bertrand_bryonyseries.

QUESTIONS

Email me at bryonyseries@gmail.com.

Thank you for reading The Herald-News. And for reading this blog. And if you've read (or plan to read) any of my books. Your support is greatly appreciated.

FEATURES

Ice cream season back in Joliet as Walt’s, other favorites scoop up business on opening day

March 1 annual day for customers to line up and get first treats of the year

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/03/03/ice-cream-season-back-in-joliet-as-longtime-favorites-scoop-up-business-on-opening-day/

Development groups buy portion of Silver Cross Hospital’s New Lenox campus

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/03/04/development-groups-buy-silver-cross-hospitals-pavilion-a-in-new-lenox/

Gas prices in northern Illinois expected to jump as Iran war rattles global oil markets

https://www.shawlocal.com/news/2026/03/02/gas-prices-in-northern-illinois-expected-to-jump-as-iran-war-rattles-global-oil-markets/

Downtown Joliet coffee cafe opens second location

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/28/downtown-joliet-coffee-cafe-opens-second-location/

VNA Health Care expands Bolingbrook Health Center

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/28/vna-health-care-expands-bolingbrook-health-center/

Lockport cigar lounge closing

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/24/lockport-cigar-lounge-closing/

7 Brew Coffee coming to Romeoville

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/18/7-brew-coffee-coming-to-romeoville/

Cemeno’s opens coffee shop at Joliet’s Inwood Athletic Club

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/19/cemenos-opens-coffee-shop-at-joliets-inwood-athletic-club/

Any donation matters at Easterseals Joliet Region annual March telethon

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/03/01/any-donation-matters-at-easterseals-joliet-region-annual-march-telethon/

Where to catch a Will County fish fry this Lent

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/17/where-to-catch-a-will-county-fish-fry-this-lent/

Will County appoints director of budget and finance department

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/27/will-county-appoints-director-of-budget-and-finance-department/

Lewis University in Romeoville names new president

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/27/lewis-university-in-romeoville-names-new-president/

Silver Cross Hospital names VP of patient care and chief nursing officer

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/22/silver-cross-hospital-names-vp-of-patient-care-and-chief-nursing-officer/

Joshua Arms senior residence in Joliet offers Black History Month series

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/25/joshua-arms-senior-residence-in-joliet-offers-black-history-month-series/

Will County Pets of the Week: March 2, 2026

Will County rescues have dogs and cats for adoption

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/03/02/will-county-pets-of-the-week-march-2-2026/

Will County Pets of the Week: Feb. 23, 2026

Will County rescues have dogs and cats for adoption

https://www.shawlocal.com/the-herald-news/2026/02/23/will-county-pets-of-the-week-feb-23-2026/

 

 

Illustration by Matt Coundiff for "Visage"

WriteOn Joliet Open Mic Night 2025. Round One, Part Two.

On September 25, 2025, WriteOn Joliet held its first open mic night at Critical Grind in Shorewood.

Charter member Duanne Walton emceed and videotaped the entire event.

Here is the video to the second half hour of short performances.

Enjoy!

Sue's Diner: Sue's Diner: Yorkshire Raised Biscuits

This week's recipe is an especial favorite of mine. But then, I really, really like homemade breads, especially right from the oven and with plenty of butter.

Our featured recipe, Yorkshire Raised Biscuits, is adapted from Miss Beecher’s domestic receiptbook: designed as a supplement to her Treatise on domestic economy,

This recipe is also featured in the BryonySeries cookbook: Memories in the Kitchen: Bites and Nibbles from "Bryony," which is a permanent fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties.

Moreover, this recipe is also quintessential Victorian. Meaning, some of the ingredients used and the directions for making these biscuits is vague and non-specific. So have fun!

This recipe is referenced in the novel Bryony. Here is the explanation from the cookbook:

It was at the Harrington’s ball that Melissa met Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara, for the very first time. The Yorkshire Raised Biscuits is one of the food items Melissa choked down while the Steward explained his ruthless dictatorship.

You can try the recipe for Yorkshire Raised Biscuits on the Sue's Diner page on the BryonySeries website. 

But try the recipe this week. It will be gone some time next week. A new recipe will take it's place.

If you have any troubleshooting questions or comments, email us at bryonyseries@gmail.com. 

Not sure what (or where) Sue's Diner is? Read: "Sue's Diner Through the Years."

By the way, Sue's Diner is only real in the BryonySeries world. But didn't Timothy do a great job making the page look like a real menu at a vintage diner?

Here is the full diner page: bryonyseries.com/sue-s-diner-food. You can't really order, of course (wouldn't it be great if you could?).

Check out all three BryonySeries cookbooks at bryonyseries.com/merchandise.

32 Quotes from "House on Top of the Hill"

When we were getting ready to release Bryony back in 2011, my daughter Sarah (who did a lot of the marketing for me) suggested I pull thirty teaser quotes from the book that she could post on Facebook, one each day.

We did the same for the second book, Visage, which is also part of the BryonySeries.

But for some reason, I never did the same for another book.

So I'm catching up with the other books.

Here is the synopsis and chapter headings for House on Top of the Hill, (the third book in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy), followed by thirty-two quotes, one from each chapter.

Enjoy!

Change comes slowly to Munsonville, and for Steve Barnes, who spends his entire life in the village, that's just fine. From boyhood to manhood, he savors the slow pace and friendly smiles, even while working by his parents' side from sunup to sundown to run the family diner.

The only blight is this fishing village's preoccupation with an empty mansion in the woods, whose tales of former glory and catastrophe fueled a rampage of ghost stories. Steve doesn't believe them, but some do – and no one can deny the power the crumbling old building holds over them.

Especially when it changes everyone, including Steve, forever.

Prologue

Asclepius.

Amazing word, isn’t it?

Asclepius was more commonly known as the “hopeless case clinic” – when it really should be called the “hopeful case clinic.” For any patient who passed through its glass doors was healed.

Or so the media said.

Still, Asclepius was the only facility in the world offering revivification, hematophagy, alba faelis anima transference, corpus vis separation, pneuma preservation, and odic force conduction, processes that leaped the great expanse from science fiction to actual science.

And here I stood, letting a really good coffee get cold while ruminating on a word I couldn’t even pronounce.

Chapter 1: The Traveling Salesman

Lenny drummed his fingers on the desk while Lou, coffee in hand, strolled into the office. His eyes roamed over the dingy space and faded carpet. He’d stood in plenty of lobbies over the years, everything from palatial hotels with marble floors and thick oils on the walls to roach-infested shanties, no bigger than an outhouse. They all bought mirrors, every single one. In fact, Lanny couldn’t remember any hotel, motel, inn, or boarding house that refused to buy mirrors. 

Chapter 2: Roundtable

A voice rang out, “Excuse me, Mr. Mayor.”

And this, MeeMaw, is where the meeting flipped. I jotted comments as rapidly as they fired. I couldn’t attribute most of them and didn’t even try. Just read on. You’ll get the gist of it.

Chapter 3: Bottle of the Red Stuff

Soon Marjorie was on her feet, shaking cobwebs out of her head and smoothing her rumpled slacks and bouse. She dug her brush out of her suitcase and freed the tangles in her brown hair while watching Shirley, who stood before the old bureau mirror and reapplied her red lipstick with a tiny brush. Shirley’s reflection stared unblinkingly into Marjorie’s, and Marjorie instinctively squeezed her thighs together as she stroked, stroked, stroked. Picture perfect, that’s how people described Shirley. “Too negative” – that’s how people perceived Marjorie. Shirley and Marjorie. Light and shadow. Little did they know.

Chapter 4: Cracking Open the Nest Egg

“Sam, simmer down. I just don’t understand why you surprised her with such a car. Women like jewelry. You could have bought her a nice ring for a fraction of the cost.”

“She can’t drive a ring to California!”

Chapter 5: Scrawls on the Wall

A bell jangled when she opened the diner’s door, announcing her arrival. Male heads swerved in her direction and nodded in greeting and approval. She acknowledged them with a toss of her pretty head and a half smile as she scanned the room. Counter or table? Five men sat at the counter, munching triangular sandwiches or slurping coffee and smoking cigarettes. Helen’s parents always warned her of the dangers of sitting alone at a counter full of men. Helen worried more about the passive taste of tobacco in her ice cream. 

Chapter 6: Whispers of the Heart

“So my mother – remember, I told you they owned and operated Munsonville Inn – so my mother sent me to Harper’s for a two-pound bag of coffee, as she’d run out and her large shipment came later in the week. She’d tied up the coins – all eighty-three cents of them – in a fresh handkerchief and instructed me to present the entire parcel to Mrs. Harper and come immediately home with the coffee – and no dawdling, because, well, I was quite the dawdler. But when I walked through the door – oh my word, I saw Steve! He was wearing an old droopy undershirt and old droopy pants, and he was leaning against the vending machine, gulping that cola like someone might wrest it from him. And my heart just – stopped.”

Chapter 7: I Run at Night

I stretch, get out of bed, and yank the old blanket back to air the bed. (Terry Rule No. 2). It’s an old creaky bed, but it’s a bed. I wasn’t allowed on the bed when Ma was alive. But that’s all changed now. She’s dead and I have the bed.

Chapter 8: Laid to Rest

Despite Chester’s background Chester always lived within his means, and Mindy never complained. When Chester was between jobs, his father only gave Chester enough money to keep the wolf from the door, as Roderick liked to say. But modestly never meant slovenly. Mindy was a good little woman and kept their tiny home spick-and-span and filled with mouth-watering smells, for Mindy cooked and baked as well as she cleaned, as good as or better than any of his father’s private chefs. But this little cottage stank of garbage, and Chester sneezed repeatedly at the herd of dust bunnies scampering across the room as he crossed the small parlor. Unruffled, Fred led the way into the kitchen where a woman about Chester’s age sat at the kitchen table in a cloud of choking cigarette smoke. She wore a bright orange and green frock that looked more like a tent than a dress. The table was filled with supplies to make jewelry: gold wires and chains, silver wires and chains, hoops, bells, zebras, trout, spires, rutabagas. Dishes caked with cement food were stacked high on the counter and in the sink. Food scraps, paper plates, and foam cups spilled out of the metal garbage can and formed molehills on the floor. A small paper strip had fluttered off the table, so Chester bent to retrieve it:

Moonstone (hecatolite) is named for Hecate, goddess of magic and the underworld. She waits for you at the crossroad. Bring your requests to her, for she sees the past, present, and future.

Chapter 9: Necking

“Ah, Madison, I can never think of Steve’s first kiss without also thinking of Ollie and Floyd.”

Madison choked and tea ran from her nose as she groped for a napkin. “Ollie and Floyd? More boyfriends?”

“No, dear. Not boyfriends. Drifters and drunks.” She gestured to the platter. “Do try a sandwich.”

Chapter 10: Spider and Fly

Chester kept his head down as he rolled the cart into the kitchen. He hated talk of Simons Mansion, and he hated village roundtable meetings. He hated the conflict; he hated the drama. But he attended every meeting for the sake of Mindy and the children. Like him, they thrived in Munsonville – as he knew they would. Kenneth, age ten, Douglas, age eight, and Melody, age six, rapidly shot to the top of their respective classes at Munsonville School. Even little Jakey, now age four, attended school, although he couldn’t partake in any of the work. But that didn’t matter to the little boy. Jakey loved school, and tears welled up in Chester’s eyes just thinking about it. All Chester’s children tugged at his heart – but Jakey tugged a little harder.

Chapter 11: Death Heard Round the World

“John Simons forever grieved the death of Bryony and his unborn child,” said Dorothy Fisk, John Simons historian and author of “And God Said, ‘Let There Be Music:’ The Definitive Biography of John Simons.” Fisk added, “Because of this wound in his heart, John Simons was able to fully devote his entire being to his music and attain a brilliance a family man could never have reached.”

Chapter 12: Mine

Lou started to take a sip from his empty cup, but Vicki was already scurrying up with the coffee pot. After a couple of quick fortifying gulps, Lou smiled encouragingly at his audience, which only increased Chester’s disquiet.

Chapter 13: Second Sight

Hand in hand, we strolled across the grass to the dock and settled at its edge. In silence, we removed our shoes and socks and dragged our feet in the water. For a time, the only sound in our world was the light splashing of our feet.

I broke the silence first.

Chapter 14: Chop, Sizzle, Broil, and Bake 

The Sandman smiled and waved from the dock, and the world whirled around her, and his cane tapped out the words, and she remembered when she used to traipse out to see her friends, silent and bloated blue under the rippling waters and gazing at her with purpled eyes and grinning with full inky lips, and she laughed aloud.

Chapter 15: The Rage

“Janice,” Bob clasped her hands and leaned close to her face, not to intimidate her, for Bob was never intimidating, despite his size. He leaned close to reinforce their solidarity, that he was with her, on her side. “You been on the lake. You know there’s more in the lake than anyone will ever know. You’ve been in the woods. You know there’s more in the woods than anyone will ever know. But you haven’t been inside Simons Mansion. And I believe ‘things’ happen inside that mansion we’ll ever know.”

Chapter 16: Hard Choice to Make

I’m past ninety – and I’ve never experienced a darkness as dark as Munsonville when the lights go out.

Chapter 17: Through the Camera’s Eye

Pure sunshine, he thought, wishing he’d brought his camera and then instantly killed his wish. Standing at the window snapping photos of her was decidedly creepy, especially since he was forty-six, and she looked no more than twenty-five. Still – he’d love to capture the soft pink in her cheek as she bent to sign the children’s hardcover book and then, beaming, raising her head and placing the copy into the outstretched hands of its new owner, her eyes bright with excitement. Did she realize how honestly lovely she looked?

Chapter 18: Words Enough For Me

She cocked her head and smiled kindly, well pseudo-kindly. She sure as fuck didn’t fool him. “You’re ruining your health.”

“It’s my health to ruin.”

“And if you die, what happens to me?”

“That’s why I’m here today. To plan for your care.”

She took his hand. “A good son should care for his mother.”

He yanked his hand away. “Well, I’m a shitty son.”

Chapter 19: The All-Hallowed Albatross

Anna Marchellis’ room was last on the left. She lay in bed in the airless little cage, covers flung aside, curtains drawn. She looked too gaunt and too pale for his liking. Probably due to an outdated wartime rations policy. He’d talk to the staff. He certainly paid enough for this dump.

Chapter 20: Dancing in the Past

June stretched her toes, hoping she carried an inkling of Granny Bea’s gumption in those shoes. Granny Bea also grew up in Boston; she’d known another life. But she met a mountain man while on holiday with her family and eloped with him under the cover of night. In those days, Granny Bea was Miss Beatrice Wilson, the “surprise” child of her parents, their second and their last. Beatrice’s sister Bertha was twenty years older than she and married by the time Beatrice landed on earth. So Beatrice’s parents poured their time and wealth and Boston’s finest tutors into her. Beatrice birthed one child late in life – Maureen – and Maureen birthed one child late in life – June. Both women’s husbands died before the babies arrived; both women raised their daughters themselves. June broke that tradition. June birthed no one, because of Mickey.

Chapter 21: The New Professor

At that moment, Dirk Weston walked up to their table. It was only a matter of time. Dirk had started canvassing the cafeteria the moment the girls set their trays on the table. Dirk had curly brown hair, brown glasses, a permanent solemn expression, and brown “abandoned puppy” eyes that spoke of his greatest desire: getting laid – by anyone; he wasn’t choosy. But. as president of Jenson College’s music club, Dirk made it his personal mission to recruit all three members of the Friendship Harmony to whatever project he cooked up (and secretly hoping one might take pity on him afterwards by, well, you know). “You ladies coming to the fundraising dance on Saturday night?”

“The ‘what’ dance?” Robin asked.

Dirk set a flyer on the table with a smirk. “This one. If you’d attend club meetings…”

Chapter 22: Enigma in Residence

“Why Julie,” Mrs. Clements said. “Is something wrong?”

“Did you see a strange person with a dog?” Julie asked breathlessly.

“A dog!” Mrs. Feigel said with a laugh. “In the library?”

“So – no?” 

Chapter 23: Rain

“I’m almost ashamed saying it, but Steve’s mother ‘gave me the creeps’ that day; there’s no other way to explain it. She was huddled in a chair, a ratty blanket to her neck, staring out the picture window with glassy eyes, and muttering, “Rain-rain-rain-rain-rain-rain,” in such an unsettling way that even the recollection raises the hair on my arms and neck. I remember my gaze traveling with hers. I saw the shining sun glistening off the deep blue water. What she saw, I do not know.”

Chapter 24: From Fry Pan to Factotum

The remainder of the meal passed with more lively banter, and they left Sue’s Diner together. Scott needed to walk a stray dog and scoop his growing collection of litter boxes. Someone dumped four white kittens at his door last night, he said.

“I’m also behind in paperwork,” Scott added as they ambled down Main Street.

“That’s what you get for frittering your time with a fishing pole.”

Their soles thunked in unison on the old wooden planks. June tried not to think about Vicki.

“I sure could use a secretary. Feel like moonlighting?”

“Hmm, well, I sure could use a clerk at the circulation desk. Know anyone?”

“Still won’t bite? Well, then, could I interest you in a tabby? She’s s a sweet girl, about nine years old.”

Chapter 25: Nutty Tina Swanson

“I hate people sometimes,” Ann said as she reluctantly returned “her” puppy to its cage.

“Me, too,” Dr. Samuelson said, which made all three girls look up in surprise. They’d never heard an adult speak like that, especially an adult resembling Santa Claus. “That’s why – when you find a good person – you treat that person like royalty. A good person is a rare breed indeed.”

Chapter 26: Preternatural Guest

I rouse to unearthly screaming, but the room was gray and silent except for the low rumble of the television. I was silent, too. Someone else was shrieking. Someone not in this room. It happens here. It happens often here at this time of day.

Chapter 27: A New Lease on a Very Old Dream

“Finally, let’s not forget that John Simons’ wife and only child died in that mansion.” Dr. Rothgard paused to relight his pipe. “So while we’re touting the name of John Simons and parading strangers through his home, we should be mindful of the heartache he endured there. Will we show off the bed where his wife – one of Munsonville’s own – and his baby passed into eternity? Will his grief be part of the tourism? If so, we should charge an appropriate price.”

Chapter 28: The News That Changed Everything

“Hurry up, Katie. Don’t you want to ride on the new trail?”

Katie kicked a stray stick off the porch. “I don’t know.”

 

“Come on. Ghost or no ghost, it will be fun.”

Chapter 29: Journey of a Thousand Heartaches

Darlene gripped the steering wheel with slippery hands as the attendant cleaned her windows and headlights and then checked the tires and under the hood. She had never driven out-of-state alone – until now, at age forty-two. She dreaded the trip, not because she was alone but because of what being alone meant. Plus, she’d never felt this degree of anguish, anger, betrayal, and terror, and she felt them simultaneously and struggled to process them. Process them? Who was she kidding? She was barely coping.

Chapter 30: Severed Links

 “And you’ll both have the chance to get to know Grandma Marchellis.”

  That was a selling point? 

Epilogue

He chuckled because of all the families that could have moved onto the Simons estate, the absolute best family would soon move onto it. Fate finally dealt him a card he could actually play.