There’s something wrong with the water…
The Serp
In the small northeastern town of Morrow, evil emanates from the Serpent River. A series of calamitous events throughout the years culminates one cold rainy night in a fight for survival. A close-knit group of friends face mysterious forces emerging from the Serp. A chilling story unfolds as the townspeople of Morrow try to stay alive.
Endorsements
“A deceptively simple tale of strength, loyalty, and overcoming adversity while facing the forces of evil, The Serp is a spine-tingling tale that grabbed me from the start. I stayed until the last page because I truly cared about the fate of the characters.”
—R.H., educator
“I loved this book! The Serp’s characters are living rent-free in my head, and memories of the creepier scenes still give me goosebumps.”
—Tonya Allen, psychologist
“Do you like horror, action, romance, and mystery? This slim novel offers all that and more as you root for Lilith, Henry, Dave, Maddie, and Krystal as they try to stay alive.”
—Peter Volpe, artist
Excerpts
Lilith’s yard was covered with fallen leaves. Countless shades of orange, red, and yellow combined to form autumn tapestries blanketing the town of Morrow. Fall was in full stride. A year had passed since its resident’s fatal fall and evil emanated from the haunted home at the end of Everidge Road.
It was mid-December of the previous year when Adam Everidge slipped from the second-floor window while hanging lights. Adam was foolishly dauntless when decorating for Christmas and fell from the top rung of his rusty ladder. Lilith had told him numerous times to get a new one, but her husband was stubborn and would tell her he would get around to it. His procrastination led to disaster.
Adam hit his prized horse sculpture during the fall. It was positioned with its hind legs rearing up in a defensive stance, the front legs and hooves at the ready. He’d bought it at an antique store in a small town near the Canadian border.
The majestic beast stood about five feet tall and was a shining ebony color. Weathered and seasoned from being out in the elements accentuated its charm and rusticity. The horse reminded Adam of The Black Stallion, his favorite book as a kid. (Page 3)
Janice had never moved so fast in her entire life. She fucking knew it—there was a ghost in that house, or whatever being was lurking up there. Perhaps Adam had come to wreak havoc on the adulteress and her new man. Almost home, she looked back once more to make sure the mysterious entity wasn’t on her heels, but the coast was clear.
She finally made it to her house. Janice unlocked her front door, stumbled inside, and knocked into the coat rack Gary had made just a short time before his death. He’d crafted it in his work shed out back. He loved to build things for her. Two of his coats were still hanging on the fine piece of craftsmanship. The weight of them and Janice’s inertia helped topple the piece. She frantically picked up the coats and returned the rack to its upright position. She placed the coats back on their hooks and took a deep breath.
She could still smell Gary on the fabric of the green one he had sported so many times while puttering around doing odd jobs. It was his go-to jacket when doing his satisfying DIY projects. It smelled of Old Spice and sawdust. She buried her face in the garment and sobbed.
Janice eventually let go, wiped her tears away, and went into the kitchen. She removed the phone receiver from the base hanging on the wall. It was an old Western Electric phone with push buttons. The cord stretched as she went to the drawer to grab a big knife. The blade was in her dominant right hand as she struggled to steady her trembling left hand to dial Lilith’s number. It took her three tries, but she got through. (Page 57)