With a vicious grind he shoved the oar back into the lake. With any luck he wouldn't have to fight off any of the evil creatures that lurked dangerously below the surface.
The small skiff heaved up against the shore, and the old man stumbled out and onto the snatch scratchy sod path trailing through some greenery to the house.
He hated the house, with all his might. If it were up to him he would leave and never return. He was bound to the house however, he could never leave until the next heir said they could. It was bloody well then the bloodline had been severed and they were trapped severing the house's evil mistress.
He missed his son. Missing for nine years to this date.
He missed his life.
YOU ARE READING
LAKEHOUSE
FantasyThirteen year old Emma Normandie hates summer vacation. It alway means she is dragged off on some epic journey through the wilderness with food rations and no toilet paper. Her brother, Raven, loves it. He's always out doors with their dad, picking...
