Sommersgate House

Prologue Sommersgate House

Everyone knew that Sommersgate House was built for love.

Its creator, Lord Archibald Ashton, Baron Blackbourne, spared no expense. Every piece of stone, every stick of timber, every pane of glass (and so on) were the best of the very best. He located the finest carpets; commissioned the most extraordinary fireplaces; purchased the most exceptional pieces of furniture; demanded the most magnificent chandeliers.

Every inch had to be resplendent. It was to be a testimony to devotion.

Sommersgate House was built for his wife, the love of his life, the beautiful Lady Ruby.

It was tragic, then, that they both died within months of its completion.

Everyone thought that was enough reason for the curse to settle on the house. After all that trouble, all that expense, all that dedication to an act of love, to have it all, so quickly, turn catastrophic in only a few months time was enough for any house to be cursed.

And cursed it was, Sommersgate, once beautiful (if a bit ostentatiously so), during one dark day and one frantic, devastating evening, turned wicked, frightful and monstrous.

As the decades went by, the curse became local lore. People could feel it, just walking, riding or eventually driving by the Gate House of the great property. Its malevolence permeated the very air. For those who went to the house, they felt it, even though they didn’t see it.

Sommersgate House was a most unhappy place indeed.

And that didn’t even take into account the hauntings.