Do bizarre and unusual mysteries only occur in imaginary tales?

Amateur sleuth Winifred Merryweather, along with dashing newspaper reporter Remington Hawthorne, find themselves in the throes of a real life mystery when they're plunged in the bowels of a dark and ancient castle. Booby-traps abound with disappearing floors, hidden sliding panels, and spider-webbed shadowy corridors.

Danger threatens to steal Winifred's very breath -- or is that the annoying allure of Remington's flirtatious charms?

Winner of 2009 Top Ten Read at MyShelf.com

He halted, his hand clutching hers again, his fingers digging into her flesh. “What’s that noise?”

She tensed, straining to hear. From behind them a cacophony of clicks and scrapes echoed in the darkness. Remington’s alert expression changed to alarm. “Hounds!”

As one, they fled down the hallway. Remington’s grip on her hand never slackened as he propelled her down one darkened corridor to another. The flame of the swinging lantern burned low, its light a mere glimmer in the vast murkiness. Snarling barks rumbled from the advancing canines, their paws pounded the floor like galloping racehorses. Sheer terror froze the air in Winifred’s lungs. With her heart hammering in her ears, she panted. “A room! We must hide!”

Remington shot a look across his shoulder. “There!” Sprinting around a corner, he threw himself against a door recessed in the shadowy wall. He burst through and twisted back to reach for Winifred. In her haste, she stumbled, tripping over the threshold and falling to her knees.

From the corner of her eye she caught a flash of bared fangs. Screaming, she kicked out, crawling backwards on her hands. Before the drooling mouth could sink its teeth into her leg, Remington pushed her out of the way, coming between her and the charging animal. It sprang, Remington’s upraised arm blocking its massive jaws aimed for his jugular. Staggering under the beast’s weight, he maneuvered their bodies, shielding Winifred from the snapping growls of the second large hound that clawed to squeeze past. His free hand clenching the brute’s throat, Remington wrestled its body off him, hurling it in the direction of its mate. In one fluid motion, he wheeled around, grasped Winifred about her waist and shoved her into the room. A moment before the door slammed on the fearsome creatures, one regained its footing and lunged. Remington, his ankle snared by the giant dog, dropped to the floor.

Copyright 2010 by Miss Mae