This is a free story for my Cup of Catnip and Furry Tales members, and can be enjoyed over your morning coffee/tea or before bed. Enjoy! When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library from her eccentric Aunt Eliza, she never expects it to come with a ghostly companion and a litter of mischievous kittens. …
This is a free story for my Cup of Catnip and Furry Tales members, and can be enjoyed over your morning coffee/tea or before bed. Enjoy! When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library from her eccentric Aunt Eliza, she never expects it to come with a ghostly companion and a litter of mischievous kittens. …
This is a free story for my Cup of Catnip and Furry Tales members, and can be enjoyed over your morning coffee/tea or before bed. Enjoy! When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library from her eccentric Aunt Eliza, she never expects it to come with a ghostly companion and a litter of mischievous kittens. …
This is a free story for my Cup of Catnip and Furry Tales members, and can be enjoyed over your morning coffee/tea or before bed. Enjoy! When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library from her eccentric Aunt Eliza, she never expects it to come with a ghostly companion and a litter of mischievous kittens. …
My arm itches as I watch the exit long after Fiona disappears. “Is she a…?” “Witch?” Simon finishes. “Probably… This is a free story for my Cup of Catnip and Furry Tales members, and can be enjoyed over your morning coffee/tea or before bed. Enjoy! When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library from her…
The gargoyle wasn’t quite so imposing the night before when it was standing silently on the porch. Now, with its heavy body blocking the doorway, I go on defense. “How the heck did you get in here?” He doesn’t reply. This is an exclusive story for my Cozy Corner members. Join Cup of Catnip or…
The soft padding of paws and a persistent meow tug me from sleep, but it’s the heavy clanging of something downstairs that jolts me awake. This is a free story for my Cozy Corner members, and can be enjoyed over your morning coffee/tea or before bed. Enjoy! When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library…
Hello kitten! I have exciting news!
Hello, and Happy Halloween!
October has flown by – I can’t believe Halloween is almost here. Hubby and I recently went to a ghost talk with a real-life ghost hunter, and it was fascinating! I have lots of ideas for future Confessions of a Closet Medium Series now.
Do you believe in ghosts? I do!
Then, I went to a book signing/costume party and that was super fun. Here I am in the Mad Hatter costume with a gal who came as the Cheshire Cat. I never pass up a chance to wear a costume!
Catnip News: I’m thrilled and honored to be included in the Only Murders In The Inbox newsletter for Of Potions & Potents this month. Please check it out and like the article—I want to support the publication as much as possible! 🧙
https://onlymurdersintheinbox.substack.com/p/grab-your-pumpkin-spice-latte-heres
Start The Book and Boo here: https://www.nyxhalliwell.com/the-book-and-boo-kittens-of-haunted-libraries-episode-1
When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library, nicknamed the Nook, from her eccentric Aunt Eliza, she never expects it to come with a ghostly companion and a litter of mischievous kittens.
As I roll into the sleepy town of Briarwood, North Carolina, the quaint cobblestone streets and ivy-clad cottages feel like something out of a fairy tale—if the fairy tale included buckets of rain and a sky angrier than a wet cat.
The windshield wipers are in a frenzied battle against the deluge as my ten-year-old VW Bug chugs up to the grand iron gates at the bottom of Inglenook Hill. Brick pillars stand like silent sentinels, guarding the mansion at the top—my inheritance from my Aunt Eliza's will. With a sputtering cough that signals defeat, my car gives up the ghost, leaving me stranded in the storm.
“Great,” I mutter, resting my forehead on the worn steering wheel. The rhythmic drumming of rain is the only reply. “Welcome home, Cat.”
Home. A funny word for a place shrouded in so much mystery, it might as well be Brigadoon. My parents bolted from this town when I was a seven and never looked back. Through the years, whenever I asked about Briarwood and Aunt Eliza, they'd exchange nervous glances before distracting me with a trip to the beach or a new doll. Being an avid reader as I grew, I figured out early on that my family had a secret. One that was tied to my aunt and this town.
A soft light illuminates the plaque on one of the pillars, designating the official name as the Historical Inglenook Library of Curiosities and Fine Literature. It doesn’t mention that my aunt also lived here her whole life. What secrets does it hold?
The storm outside is relentless, slamming rain against the windows and rattling the old panes like the house itself is shaking in fear. I’m still shivering, but it’s not just the cold that’s doing it.
This is a free story for my Cozy Corner members, and can be enjoyed over your morning coffee/tea or before bed. Enjoy!
When Catniss Inglenook inherits an old Victorian library from her eccentric Aunt Eliza, she never expects it to come with a ghostly companion and a litter of mischievous kittens.
I’ve met a ghost. A real ghost!
Libby’s words echo in my mind—Aunt Eliza was murdered. I can’t stop thinking about her, about the way she vanished before I could ask anything more.
I return to the kitchen to find the kittens curled up in a fluffy pile at Nimbus’s side on their bed, their tiny bellies full and content. Nimbus flicks her tail lazily, watching me with those big, knowing eyes. She’s been here longer than me, obviously, and it feels as if she understands more than she’s letting on.
I should go to bed. Get some sleep. Figure things out in the morning.
Tossing the broken pieces of the cup in the trash, I leave the kitchen. Back out in the dim hallway, I start for the stairs but the shadows seem to shift. No ghosts appear, but the house seems to…respond, tugging at me to return to my aunt’s favorite spot—the library.
Wait…how do I know that?
My feet move of their own accord and when I reach the doors, they glow around the edges as if someone is inside reading by candlelight.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I’m not going to sleep until I get some answers.
The wooden doors creak as I push them open, and the familiar scent hits me—aged leather, dry paper, ink.
I flick the light switch, but nothing happens. Has the electricity gone out? I check the hallway, but those sconces still cast light. I try the switch again.
Nothing happens—and then, a fire blazes to life in the hearth.
My hand flies to my heart. “Libby, is that you?”
The desk lamp comes on.
I take that as a yes, yet I don’t register her previous chill or foggy presence.
The flickering firelight barely reaches the corners of the room. The shelves loom above me, filled with old books, each spine a mystery waiting to be unraveled. My memory tickles with the flashbacks of my infrequent childhood visits. This room felt magical, Aunt Eliza’s smile joyous at seeing me.
My gaze lands on the imposing mahogany desk dominating the center of the room. Its surface is meticulously organized—a silver letter opener here, a stack of crisp stationery there—but something about it radiates an air of secrecy.
I drop into the chair behind it. It creaks under me, the leather groaning as I settle in.
My bones are weary, and my eyes tired. There is so much to do, and only me to do it all. I scrub a hand over my face and consider going upstairs once again. A warm bath, some sleep…
A flash of lightning illuminates the room. For a split second, I see the shadow of a woman standing among the stacks. My heart leaps into my throat.
“Libby? Is that you?”
The air feels charged, as if the library itself is holding its breath. I come to my feet and take a tentative step forward, my eyes straining.
“Look, I need to know what happened,” I say, addressing the empty room. “To you, to Aunt Eliza, to this manuscript. Please, if you can hear me, give me a sign.”
A soft meow echoes through the room. I turn to see Nimbus padding towards me, her luminous eyes fixed on mine. Her kittens follow one by one. They roam near the desk and I flop back into the chair, exhaustion and adrenaline warring inside me.
“I’m seeing things because I’m overly tired.” And still hungry. “Right, Nimbus? That’s all it is.”
I rummage through the top desk drawer, renewing my intention to either confirm or disprove Libby’s claims. Seeing ghosts is one thing, but Aunt Eliza’s death…murder? It seems impossible. Yet, if there’s any truth to it, the answers have to be somewhere in this house, maybe even in this very room.
My search continues through all the drawers. They’re filled with a normal assortment of files and ledgers. There is also a collection of odd things—an antique silver locket with twining vines etched on the back, a bundle of dried lavender tied with red twine, a half-melted yellow candle, and a small, ornate skeleton key with a symbol like the one on the front door key.
I frown, turning the locket over to examine the vines. They match the ones carved into the back door. Inside is a photo of…me.
My birthmark itches, and I do what I can to ignore it. I drop the locket inside the top drawer and continue my fishing around, but the itch becomes unbearable and I growl in frustration, shoving the sleeve of the gown up. The dancing flames in the fireplace surge and the vines on my skin twist.
I scratch at them, leaving marks from my nails. They stop their undulating dance and the itch fades.
Letting out a tight breath, I cover them with the sleeve.
Was Aunt Eliza into witchcraft?
Am I somehow tied to it?
I stare at the other gathered items I’ve placed on the desk. They’re a bit odd, but not that unusual. Not…witchy, per se.
Although they do feel…purposeful. Intentional.
And that locket…
“I need a drink,” I murmur.
Out of nowhere, a fresh mug of tea appears on the desk. Steam rises from it, and I smell lemon.
I rear back, throwing out my hands. One of them knocks into the lamp, nearly taking out the cup.
Somehow it doesn’t. An invisible hand catches it just in time and returns it to its upright position.
“What the—?” I glance around, again expecting to see Libby or some other ghost, but there’s no one there.
The fire crackles higher and then recedes to normal.
My pulse quickens. This library—this house—is more than it seems. “Hello?” I say, glancing up at the ceiling, the walls.
Nimbus strolls past a bookshelf, tail brushing the spines closest to the ground. Her kittens follow, tiny paws clicking on the wooden floor. One of them—black as night—scurries under the desk, scratching at a portion near my foot.
I bend over, pushing hair out of my face, to try and see what she’s after. I can’t make out anything unusual, but she’s growing more frantic.
Reaching under the drawer, I avoid her claws. My fingers slide against a sharp edge of wood.
The kitten meows as if in triumph. Getting down on all fours, I trace the raised panel and feel it give under my fingertips. A piece of wood pops open, revealing a small, hidden compartment.
“What’s this?” I mutter, tentatively feeling round inside. There’s something there. In order to access it, I have to lie on the floor, staring up at the underside of the desk.
“Wow,” I whisper as I pull out a leather-bound book.
The cover is soft and worn, a thick cord binding it shut.
Returning to the chair, I run my hand over the leather. There’s no title, only delicate filigree carved into it and stained dark brown. I carefully undo the cord, and the book seems to sigh in response.
The black kitten hops onto my lap and then onto the desk, watching. The pages are brittle. The handwriting on them is delicate and old-fashioned, with flourishing letters. Is this Aunt Eliza’s? Libby’s? There’s no name inside, no dates, but the words written there draw me in.
I sit back in Aunt Eliza’s chair and take a sip of the fresh tea, my heart pounding as I read through the entries. They’re cryptic, talking about a book. The one, possibly, that Libby needs.
A manuscript, hidden in the library… My breath catches as I read on.
I have searched the archives, the forbidden room…
Forbidden room? That sounds ominous.
I cannot discover its hiding place. I am mad with frustration.
The more I search, the more elusive it becomes. The manuscript holds the key, but the library is keeping it hidden from even me. It almost feels like a game…or a test.
It seems to jump ahead and a new handwriting appears—a new librarian? I’ve hidden it where only the library itself can reveal the way. The magic within those pages is more powerful than I could have ever imagined…but I must not let anyone find it until I know the truth.
What truth?
The next one is even more disturbing. She came to me today, asking about the manuscript again. I fear for her safety, but I cannot reveal its location. The library seems to know what must be done, even when I do not.
But he last entry trails off mid-sentence as if the writer had been interrupted.
I’ve made a breakthrough, but someone is coming. I’m not sure who. If it’s who I think it is—
I blink at the words, the unfinished sentence. I flip past to the next page. The next.
Nothing.
The entry ends, and there are no others.
My fingers tighten around the edges of the journal as my mind races. The manuscript—Libby’s unfinished book—it’s here, hidden somewhere in this mansion.
And I’m going to find it.
I close the journal and stare into the fire. My tea continues to steam, having not cooled at all. The fire seems to respond to my attention, showing me flames of gold, blue, and amber.
The kitten scrutinizes me, cocking its head to the side. The others, including Nimbus, regard me as well. They’re sizing me up, questioning if I can handle this place. Them.
If I can figure out who and what I am, along with helping Libby and solving the mystery of my aunt’s death.
This place is full of secrets, and I’m just starting to uncover them. But one thing is clear—I have to keep digging.
I have to find that manuscript.
I have to uncover the truth behind my birthmark.
And I have to figure out what really happened to Aunt Eliza.
What do you think the truth behind Catniss's birthmark might be?
I hope you’ve enjoyed this episode! Don’t miss next week’s Witchy Wednesday episode and find out what happens next!
Hello, magical reader. This is a free short story for paid subscribers of Nyx Halliwell’s Cozy Corner that can be enjoyed over a cup of your favorite brew or before snuggling down to sleep. ☕️💜 I've added an audio as a bonus at the end! ** Willowbrook, a picturesque town nestled between rolling hills and…