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Was it revulsion I felt? Perhaps some sort of sick fascination? No, not that. But something compelled me to follow. . . Rain-drenched and chilled to the bone, she arrives at the Countess’ castle. Like many before her – none of whom have returned – she’s determined to snuff out the horrors within. But could she ever be prepared for what hides within its turrets; what unfurls under its fluttering flags. . . Emily Carroll’s hair-raising tale, charged with eroticism, won’t just make your skin crawl – it will crawl underneath it.
Was it revulsion I felt? Perhaps some sort of sick fascination? No, not that.
But something compelled me to follow. . .
Rain-drenched and chilled to the bone, she arrives at the Countess’ castle. Like many before her – none of whom have returned – she’s determined to snuff out the horrors within. But could she ever be prepared for what hides within its turrets; what unfurls under its fluttering flags. . .
Emily Carroll’s hair-raising tale, charged with eroticism, won’t just make your skin crawl – it will crawl underneath it.