Finch felt the hair stirring at the back of his neck. There had been something so unnatural, so - abominable was the word that leapt to his mind - in that tall elegant figure that he stood frozen. The dark silent house, the beleaguering trees, the sense of utter solitude, the corpse-white face at the … Continue reading FFB: The Whispering House by Margaret Erskine
There is nothing more satisfying than reading a book while sipping a hot cup of tea.
a hot cup of pleasure 