By Dan Simmons
Retail ePub. this is often the Sequel to 1991's Summer Night
A once-respected collage professor and novelist, Dale Stewart has sabotaged his occupation and his marriage -- and now darkness is last in on him. within the final hours of Halloween he has back to the loss of life city of Elm Haven, his boyhood domestic, the place he hopes to discover peace in isolation. yet getting into a long-deserted farmhouse at the a ways outskirts of city -- the one-time place of abode of a wierd and tremendous good friend who misplaced his younger existence in a grisly "accident" again within the bad summer time of 1960 -- is just the newest in his lengthy succession of modern error. simply because Dale isn't really on my own the following. He has been to this condominium of shadows through inner most demons who're now twisting his truth into scary new varieties. And a thick, blanketing early snow is commencing to fall ...
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Extra resources for A Winter Haunting (Seasons of Horror, Book 2)
I wished him well. After six months, I thought, eight months, he must have left the hospital and picked up his life again. He probably moved back in with his parents. On their retirement, he would take over Badger Foods, maybe liven it up a little. Or get out of Madison, marry a girl who looked a lot like him, work in an office, and raise two or three blond, cherubic children. People like Hootie Bly were supposed to have uneventful, essentially unexamined, but deeply appreciated, truly lived-in lives.
After things had calmed down a bit and the mystery of Hootie’s location had finally been clarified, Eel tried on at least two occasions to visit him at the Lamont Hospital, where it turned out he had been all along. The first time she spoke to someone there, whoever it was (apparently, descending to such details was a waste of time) forbade her to come out: Mr. Bly’s condition was too grave, too precarious. A month later, she tried again. This time, the gatekeeper invited her to visit the hospital, and it was Hootie Bly who turned her down.
The Eel, with whom I had spent nearly every school and weekend night for a year and a half, continued to sit next to me in class, but otherwise acted as though she had embarked on some luxury cruise that I had declined, inexplicably, to share with her. At night, she barely gave me five minutes on the telephone. I had missed, all but literally, the boat, and the Eel was so entranced with the details of her voyage she had little time left over for me.