Publisher's Synopsis
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The Paranormal 1:The wind howled across the rolling hills of Windermere Valley, a place where stories slept beneath the soil and whispers wandered through the trees. To outsiders, the small village nestled within the valley was just another quiet spot on the map, with cobbled streets, timber-framed houses, and a single bakery that filled the morning air with the scent of cinnamon and fresh bread. But to those who had lived there long enough, Windermere was different-untouched by time, maybe, or perhaps watched over by something older than history.
The Paranormal 2
The rain had been falling for three days straight in the town of Merric Hollow, a place tucked between two rivers and wrapped in the quiet hush of misty forests. It was the kind of place where time moved slower, where people still left their doors unlocked, and where stories-strange ones-never stayed buried for long. Something about the air, or the soil, or maybe the river's whisper against the stones, made Merric Hollow different. Even the animals behaved oddly-crows that circled the same tree for hours, cats that stared at corners for no reason, dogs that barked at empty fields under a full moon.
The Paranormal 3
In the highlands of northern Windemere, nestled between moss-draped cliffs and the echoing cries of distant hawks, lay the forgotten village of Gallowmere. With its crooked chimneys and roads of uneven cobblestone, the village looked like something from an old painting-beautiful, but haunting. Only a few families remained, and they spoke softly of things they didn't see, of sounds that came from beneath the ground, and of the bells that rang in the night when no one was near the church tower.
The Paranormal 4
The town of Elmsmere had never been on any major map. Tucked between two silent rivers and surrounded by a dense evergreen forest, it was the kind of place people only ended up in by accident or old family ties. There were no highways leading in or out, only a winding gravel road that disappeared under fog most days. The residents, barely numbering four hundred, spoke softly, locked their windows even in summer, and never-ever-went near the old school at the edge of town.
The Paranormal 5
In the silent valleys of the Northland Hills, nestled between two mountains often shrouded in mist, lay a forgotten railway town called Eatheridge. Once a bustling stop for travelers and freight, it had become nothing more than a whisper on a map. The tracks were long buried beneath moss and roots, and the station had crumbled into a skeleton of rusted metal and broken glass. Yet, despite its disappearance from public memory, the town endured-quiet, cautious, and forever haunted by what came on the last train.
