The Witch of Blackwood Hollow:

Eleanor Frost never knew her aunt, but she inherited everything—a decaying Victorian manor deep in the woods, along with the weight of its secrets.

The house looms like a wound against the sky, filled with whispers that crawl through the walls and shadows that seem too aware. What slumbers within is not finished with the living, and Eleanor is about to awaken something that should have stayed buried.

The roots of this house run deep, tangled with rituals and curses, blood and bone. The more Eleanor settles in, the more the house settles into her—its presence heavy, its intent unclear, its hunger undeniable.

In Blackwood Hollow, nothing stays dead for long. The past waits patiently in every corner, and what was invited in will never leave willingly.