“Emma, I have no idea why you wish to know about Barre Manor. Everything about it is bad. It’s history is nothing but evil. But I will explain to you anyway.
A long time ago, years ago in fact, a man named Daniel Barre came here to, Pointdale. He was very rich, and prosperous. He came to Pointdale, bought land right outside of Pointdale, and married a woman named Constance Belmonte. He and Constance had a son together. Constance died in childbirth. Daniel was left a middle aged man with an infant son. He hired a woman from Pointdale to come and be his son, Heath’s nurse. a few weeks after the woman was hired, she left. She came back to Pointdale spreading horrible stories about the house, Barre Manor. She said that she was almost certain it was haunted by Mrs. Barre’s ghost come back from the grave. She also told horrible stories about Daniel Barre and his son, Heath. She said that Mr. Barre acts very mysteriously about his wife and her death. She said he never goes near his own son. After that, Mr. Barre never came into Pointdale again. He locked himself up like a recluse. Heath was too young to come into town on his own. So he grew up by himself. Lonely. The last I heard of Mr. Barre was that he died when Heath Barre was but eighteen. Some people claimed to have seen Heath Barre outside roaming his grounds. I can’t believe that though. The place is thick with overgrowth and weeds. Only eccentrics claim to have seen candlelight in the windows of the house. I myself believe that Heath Barre died a long, long time ago. He would be at least in his 50’s by now, and I don’t see how one could survive on his own in such a large house as that by yourself for so long.” Emma breathed heavily. So that was it. everyone thought the house was haunted. Some must even be afraid that the corpse of Heath Barre was inside. She looked out of the east gable and towards Barre Manor.

“Father, has anyone tried to go inside.” Mr. Towers’ eyes became very wide.

“No! And I don’t suspect anyone ever will. It’s all evil I tell you. All evil. I’ve even heard parsons preach against the Barre family as murders, and devil worshippers.” Emma rolled her eyes.

(c) 2009

daughter. Emma rested her cheek against the palm of her hand as she stared out the window. Her father Mr. William Towers was a gentleman. Not a gentleman of much consequence, but yet he was still a gentleman with an estate. The estate wasn’t the largest in all of England but it was still beautiful. It was called Windsor Creek. There was a large two story home, with lush and scenic grounds surrounding it. Emma loved to walk the grounds. There were many ponds, and small patches of forests. If she stood on the very edge of her father’s estate she could see Barre Manor very vividly.

Emma walked up to her father who was sitting in his chair by the fireplace, reading a book that seemed to be amusing him very much.

“Father, can you tell me of Barre Manor?” Mr. Towers suddenly looked up from his book. His face was covered in a look of pure surprise, and even a little worry.

“Why do you want to know of that place? Everything about it reeks of wickedness!”

“Father, please.” Mr. Towers looked at his lovely daughter. She had curly brunette hair, a nose that was slightly snubbed at the end, soft and sweet lips, and eyes that shone from happiness. Mr. Towers sighed. How could he say no to his only child, who was so beautiful. he did not deserve such a perfect daughter.

“Alright, Emma.” Emma smiled and settled down into a chair across from her father.

February's writing endeavor

So I am participating in a something called The Writing Endeavor. It is much like Nanowrimo, but instead of having it only one month, it is all year long! You have a different writing assignment each month. I was too busy to do anything for January's assignment, but I am without a doubt going to participate in February's. This month we are writing a fictional romance/love story. I am going to work on a Regency era Gothic Romantic novel. Here's my first paragraph.

As Emma walked by the foreboding house curiously, she saw out of the corner of her eye a fluttering movement in one of the high windows. When she turned her gaze to the gothic house, and stared at the window, there was nothing there. Emma shivered and shook her head slightly. The family friend, Mr. Hurst, who was escorting her home from town, placed a protective hand on her arm.

“Ms. Towers, we really must be getting you home. You have no need to linger at this place.” Mr. Hurst looked at the large gothic house in a disgusted manner. Emma let him continue leading her down the road with their elbows intertwined. But she secretly smiled as the house was going out of their view. She thought it was so beautiful. It looked so lonely, she was certain it had some mysterious and intriguing history to it. Emma was determined to find out more about it. She had lived three miles down the road from it her whole life. One and twenty years and she knew nothing about the large house which everyone called Barre Manor.

(c) 2009