Fifteen-year-old Matt Mitchell was having the worst summer imaginable. Matt’s misery started when his mother was killed by a drunk driver as she walked along the road near their secluded seaside cottage. Then Matt’s father moved him and his sister to a small town in rural Indiana, as far as his grieving father could get from the ocean that Matt and his mother had loved. At the new high school, Matt became the new kid who three bullies seemed determined to make miserable. And then to top it off, Matt learned that the recluse who lived in the dilapidated Victorian mansion next door was none other than Old Lady Hawthorne, the town’s most infamous murderess and witch. Matt’s terrible summer was turning into an awful autumn, but then something quite unexpected happened. Old Lady Hawthorne’s niece and her three children moved in next door, and Matt met Gerallt.
I started writing this juvenile paranormal mystery about 14 years ago, about the time I moved to Pittsburgh. I got stuck halfway through the last chapter. I knew what I wanted to say, but got serious writer’s block. I’m taking out the old manuscript, dusting it off, and finishing it up. It’s too good of a story to just let languish in a folder on my computer desktop.