Arcadia Lodge

The fountain was ringed by an assortment of fantastical creatures – satyrs, nymphs and fauns – all dancing to the music of Pan’s pipe. They rose and fell and surged like the sea, and from their mouths issued a collective sound that might have been singing, might have been praise, might have been an invocation. I was rooted to the spot with more than fear – it was awe: an awe so great it was almost heart-breaking – and yet something primal and dark deep within my ancient soul wanted to cast off the mantle of civilisation and join them, wanted to dance around that fountain as it ran with the blood of Arcadia, wanted my wife and child to see me as I abandoned myself to my inherent wild nature. I sensed something rising up out of the valley behind me, though whether to urge me onwards, hold me back or merely watch me make my choice, I never knew, for it was at that moment that I woke in the foul-smelling darkness of Arcadia Lodge, and heard the last strains of that piping music fading away somewhere out there in the night.

Nature. Panic. Desire. Obsession.

That was the summer that changed everything.

I didn't know it at the time. Not until many years later, when I would know everything. At first I thought I was losing my mind. Everything in my world was becoming increasingly unfamiliar to me as something long-buried began to call out, and to draw me inexorably into its web of terrible corruption.

At its heart I found a derelict mansion - Arcadia Lodge. Haunted by legend,by nature, and by the dreadful purpose for which it was created. There my past awaited me: a secret so terrible that I'd buried it long ago. And my future too; a future beyond imagining.

At first I'd feared losing only my mind, but I would soon face losing my body and soul.





First edition trade paperback £12.99                   
Published 21st June 2014                   
ISBN 9780957034884                   
Castringham Hall.                   

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