the Haunting of Mirevale House: A Tale Shadows, Secrets, and Ghosts We Inherit

Eight bells keep the dead where they belong. Tonight, someone is waiting for the ninth.Iris Vale hasn't set foot in Cornwall since she was a child, the night she went missing on the headland and was found at dawn, remembering nothing. Now, at thirty-five, she has been tracked down by the family solicitor. Her aunt Eleanor, who vanished without a trace in the winter of 1999 and was declared dead years later, has left her the house on the headland: Mirevale House, half-swallowed by ivy above a black Atlantic cove.The villagers of Penmire won't say its name after dark. Every evening at 7:12 the church rings eight bells, and has done for a hundred and fifty years. No one will tell Iris why the ninth is never rung.Inside the house, the mirrors don't reflect quite what they should. A child's height marks climb the nursery wall, with a name Iris has never heard beside her own. A text arrives from her own number, and a bell with no rope tolls in a tower where nothing has rung in living memory. Something beneath the waves knows her name. It has been calling the women of her family, one by one, for generations.With only Caleb Treloar, a quiet harbourman whose father hid his own secrets about the house, Iris must work out what her family bargained away, and what Eleanor gave up to hold the door shut. The tide is rising, and the bells are counting.Some houses are haunted. Mirevale is waiting.A gothic mystery of inherited guilt, drowned bells and the ghosts we carry in our blood.