About the Book
Digging into the mysteries left behind by her grandmother, Casey finds valuable antiques, but she also finds a mysterious blue satin diary. Opening the cover, Casey is transported to the past, but the past is not always the idyllic wonderland she hoped for. In "Blue Satin Diary," Casey discovers that the past can be even darker than the present.
As Casey explores her dark family history, she finds herself trapped inside the house, stalked by a vengeful ghost that doesn't care who stands in her way.
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Keep reading for an excerpt:
Red fire licked the top of the fireplace and the book roared with flames. Oxygen-rich air sucked through the pages from the force of the fire and drove the red flames higher and higher. With small pops, the leather straps inside the bindings broke, and finally the diary crumpled apart.
“That’s it,” said Casey. “I’m getting out of here tomorrow!” She walked back up the stairs, feeling better, and opened the door to the guest room. There in the bedroom, she saw the diary, the same one with the blue satin cover, resting on the bed. It hadn’t even been scorched.
Casey stared in complete horror.
The other things she could explain away, but not this.
An extremely loud slam behind her rattled her senses, and turning around, she found the door shut.
She stood frozen in terror, completely unsure of what to do. Just then, she heard the doorbell ring.
The doorbell echoed through the house, into every empty room, and even through the closed door in front of Casey. She tried to open the door, but the doorknob rattled in her hands and refused to budge. In desperation she ran over to the window.
Looking out, Casey surveyed the frozen landscape outside. A modern, massive Ford pickup sat outside her house, parked in the yard not too far from her own car. The words “Massachusetts Assessor’s Office” were printed in jet black letters that stood out against the boring champagne color that all officials seemed to prefer.
She knew the assessor was still at the front door, because the doorbell rang again. “Help me! Help me!” Casey screamed.
The assessor never moved from the porch. He or she remained an invisible entity under the porch roof as Casey pounded on the window, screaming loudly. Casey was confused as she kept banging on the window. Not even a single crack emerged, and her hands began to hurt. She wrapped her sleeves around her hands and kept pounding frantically.