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Inside the Asylum

Page 24

by Mary SanGiovanni


  Toby sat, rolling the beer bottle between his hands as he considered what Ed had said. “So what, I just write a letter? Like to Santa Claus? Tell this Door what I want? Then what?”

  “Then you seal it, like I said. Melt some wax, mix a little of your blood in, then seal it, like those old-fashioned letters, you know?”

  Toby nodded.

  “Then you go out at night—has to be full dark—and you make your way to the Door—”

  “How do I find it? What if I get lost?” Toby broke in.

  “Well, you can bring a flashlight and a compass, or one of them app things on your phone, if you got it.”

  “Okay, so assuming I find the door, then what?”

  “Then you slip the letter under the Door. That’s how I had always heard it done. No words necessary. Just slip it under, then walk away. Go home, keep your mouth shut. Deed is done.”

  Toby frowned. The whole thing was crazy. Magic doors, wishes granted. Fairy tales were for kids, not for men who exploited them. He shook his head. He wanted a solution to his problem more than anything, but…this? Was Ed fucking with him?

  Ed seemed to read the doubt on his face and leaned forward, tipping the mouth of his beer at Toby like a pointer finger. “Look, I know how it sounds, believe me. I know. You don’t have to take my word for it. If you want to consider using the Door, I’ll take you out there tomorrow afternoon. You can see it for yourself. If not, we can forget we ever had this conversation. You just said you was looking for a solution that wouldn’t involve drugs or surgery or hurting one of them pretty little girls in the park. This…well, this might be the only option you got, buddy.”

  About the Author

  Mary SanGiovanni is the author of the Bram Stoker nominated novel The Hollower, its sequels Found You and The Triumvirate, Thrall, Chaos, Savage Woods, Chills—which introduced occult security consultant Kathy Ryan—and Behind the Door, as well as the novellas For Emmy, Possessing Amy, and The Fading Place, and numerous short stories. In addition to her novels, she contributed to DC Comics’ House of Horror anthology, alongside comic book legends Howard Chaykin and Keith Giffen. She has been writing fiction for over a decade, has a Master’s in writing popular fiction from Seton Hill University, and is a member of The Authors Guild, Penn Writers, and International Thriller Writers.

  Her website is marysangiovanni.com.

  Savage Woods

  Bram Stoker award-nominated author Mary SanGiovanni returns with a terrifying tale of madness, murder, and mind-shattering evil . . .

  Nilhollow—six-hundred-plus acres of haunted woods in New Jersey’s Pine Barrens—is the stuff of urban legend. Amid tales of tree spirits and all-powerful forest gods are frightening accounts of hikers who went insane right before taking their own lives. It is here that Julia Russo flees when her violent ex-boyfriend runs her off the road . . . here that she vanishes without a trace.

  State Trooper Peter Grainger has witnessed unspeakable things that have broken other men.

  But he has to find Julia and can’t turn back now. Every step takes him closer to an ugliness that won’t be appeased—a centuries-old, devouring hatred rising up to eviscerate humankind. Waiting, feeding, surviving. It’s unstoppable. And its time has come.

  Chills

  True Detective meets H.P. Lovecraft in this chilling novel of murder, mystery, and slow-mounting dread from acclaimed author Mary SanGiovanni . . .

  It begins with a freak snowstorm in May. Hit hardest is the rural town of Colby, Connecticut. Schools and businesses are closed, powerlines are down, and police detective Jack Glazier has found a body in the snow. It appears to be the victim of a bizarre ritual murder. It won’t be the last. As the snow piles up, so do the sacrifices. Cut off from the rest of the world, Glazier teams up with an occult crime specialist to uncover a secret society hiding in their midst.

  The gods they worship are unthinkable. The powers they summon are unstoppable. And the things they will do to the good people of Colby are utterly, horribly unspeakable . . .

 

 

 


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