You are… dangerously curious🥀
Now this is hardly appropriate behavior on anyone's part...
News —
Well my beloved readers, we are in the final weeks before Haunting the Scavenger is on bookstore shelves, and hopefully in your hands!
A note about paperback pre-orders —
Pre-orders for signed paperbacks will close Friday March 20th. Through I may slip a signature into later orders from Dog Eared Books, this is the latest I can reasonably hope a copy will reach you relatively close to publication. Remember that they will ship both domestically and internationally. Their international shipping is comparatively fast and affordable to other large book retailers, speaking from personal experience.
The book is technically available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other retailers for pre-order now as well, in both e-book and paperback, but only orders from Dog Eared Books will be signed. I am super excited by those who have already ordered. This is basically a ‘last call’ e-mail, as for when you hear from me next, the book will be OUT!
A note about the Art Book —
As you may or may not know, the digital version of the book I am offering on itch.io is coming with a bonus art book pdf. Everyone who pre-ordred a paperback copy is entitled to a FREE copy of the art book if they so desire it. This offer is only for those who pre-ordered the physical signed copy from Dog Eared Books. To claim a copy simply e-mail publishing@arloblackthorn.com with some proof of your pre-order, and you will receive access to both a copy of the art book pdf and the high-res art media zip folder that is included in the itch.io version. It’s a small little extra, nothing too fancy from me.
Bonus Essay —
There will be no bonus essay this months as it’s publication time! The second post for March will be all about Haunting the Scavenger. That said, last month I put out another experimental bonus essay, and one of my better works of non-fiction at that. If you still haven’t had a chance, do not forget to check out Sickeningly Green: A Look at the Role of Copper Arsenite Pigments in the Mid-19th Century.
Now lets get to our last little blurb from Haunting the Scavenger!
Tasked with the simple act of doing the wash, Monty takes the opportunity of being invited into the manor to once again go snooping for answers he may regret finding. While he might have crossed a bit of a line this time, the creepy behavior is a tad mutual.
Excerpt from Chapter 7
…
[Monty] trepidatiously entered the dark and empty beast of a mansion. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. The whole manor felt suffocating, a musty kind of heat that would make anyone choke. He couldn’t wrap his head around how Cameron could stand being inside this building with no airflow. The place felt like a claustrophobic crypt despite how much space there was to explore.
The hallways were dark as night. He fumbled around until he found a light switch of some kind. He flipped it on, and the electric wall sconces down the eastern hallway buzzed to life reluctantly. They protested and flickered as though they were not used to being turned on. He felt a creeping sensation come over him as he realized that every single frame on the walls of this hallway was covered in heavy black shrouds. He wondered if this was some sort of mourning ritual he was not privy to.
Curiously, he pulled back a shroud to find a dark-haired, sun-kissed, and very disgruntled man staring back at him. It was a mirror. He looked behind the cloth of another large gilded frame, another mirror. He walked past several, looking behind the veils. Every single ornate frame had a fading silver-backed mirror in it. Not a single painting, photograph, or the like, just a hallway of shrouded mirrors. This mansion continued to bewilder him.
The washer and dryer were newer than he’d anticipated, neatly tucked in a closet that had been conveniently left open. He mindlessly stuffed the white sheets into the washer as he read over the instructions again. He marveled at the amount of bleach written in the note, finding it excessive for one set of king sized sheets. Cameron’s scrawling handwriting was hard for him to read, so perhaps he was mistaken. Just as that thought passed his mind, he noticed a rather large red stain, likely from wine, on the sheets.
Please let that be wine.
Somewhat disgusted, he quickly shoved the sheets in and set a timer on his digital watch to check back when it would be done.
Curiosity still buzzed around him like a headache. He was already inside. He wondered if he’d be able to see where the second-story balcony led. Often at night he had felt a presence there, watching him. At least his instincts told him so. There was nothing wrong with taking a peek at something he’d been curious about. He just wanted to know the line of sight from that back balcony.
He constructed a mental map to figure out which door down this unnerving hallway would most likely lead to it. He decided on one of the very tall, heavy wooden doors. As his hand curled around the crystal doorknob, he was astonished to find that it was unlocked.
He instantly regretted letting himself through said door, however, as he rather quickly realized he’d entered what could only be Cameron’s bedroom. He noticed there were actually two doors from the hall that went into this room. Another floor-length gilded mirror sat between them. It too was covered with a large black shroud. It stood almost eight feet high from the floor. The heavy golden frame was made of intricately entwined serpents, with the family crest proudly displayed at the top. Through the thin black shroud he could faintly make out the unmistakable spider webbing of shattered glass, its nexus just a little below his face.
The room itself was huge, with a beautiful hardwood floor, a small portion of which was covered with a large bear-pelt rug. Hung from the high ceiling were two grandiose ruby chandeliers that stared down at him like a beast’s angry red eyes, watching his every move.
There were two additional doors on either side of the room; he could only guess where they went. On one side there was a beautiful old turntable cabinet filled with records upon records. He crept into the room and curiously peeked at the music selection. Most of it was Italian classical music, operas. The other half of the collection was mostly post-punk. Violator by Depeche Mode was on the turntable as if it had been recently listened to.
On the other side of the room, there was a large writing desk. It was the only messy thing in the otherwise pristinely kept room. On the desk there was a clunky, ancient typewriter. There were many assorted notebooks, splotched sheet music, and scattered pens on the desk as well. It took all of his self-restraint to resist inspecting the contents of the notebooks.
In the center of the room, between two curtained doors to the balcony, was a king-size four-poster canopy bed. The posts were intricately carved wood with serpent motifs that matched the rest of the house’s style. It was shrouded in thick black velvet curtains around it, as if it had been for mourning a passed relative, rather than for sleeping. It felt like an empty tomb to him.
He wondered if this room had always been theirs. It was lacking in decoration other than the intricate woodworking of the house itself. The ghosts of missing picture frames in the wallpaper led him to believe that this might have originally been their mother’s room. The thought of sleeping in her bed so soon after her departure left a weird taste in Monty’s mouth.
Leaning up against an end table with a rotary phone was a golden fencing sword. There were a plethora of empty wine bottles around the bed and one perched on the desk. He noticed they were all bottles that had the strange handmade labels. He looked at the bottle on the desk. ‘Florence 1995’ was written on the simple label in scrawling handwritten script. He examined the lone wineglass on the desk and gave it a sniff. The smell of stale wine made him gag.
He remembered why he had even come into this room in the first place, deciding he’d meddled enough with Cameron’s things. To his ultimate surprise, the balcony door on the right was unlocked. He slipped out onto the back balcony and into the night air.
The moon was full, and a cool late summer breeze was blowing across the yard that ruffled his hair as he stepped out. His anxieties were right; not only could he see his cabin from here, he could see into it. You could see right into his bedroom through those large windows. It was also easy to see the pool from here, its lights underlit him in a dazzling array of blues as the wind disturbed the water’s surface.
“Oh my, now this is a surprise,” Cameron spoke calmly, coming through the left door to the balcony. All the blood drained out of Montague’s body. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to snoop in another’s bedroom?” They asked him.
“How? I-I saw you leave…” Monty stammered, backing away from Cameron as they advanced towards him. He had not heard them come back. He didn’t hear anyone move in the house at all. He was certain he should have heard them come in at least. The absence of anger on their practically glowing face was terrifying.
They encroached on Monty until he felt his back press against the stone balcony railing. Cameron’s figure somehow loomed over him despite their size difference. Slowly, a crawling sensation writhed under his skin as he felt himself become paralyzed in place. Tendrils of shadow crawled from the night itself, stitching his fearful body in place. His head spun ever so slightly. Cameron trailed a long pale hand languidly up from his waist to rest just under his chin. Even the slightest touch of their fingers sent strange electrical currents through the tendrils of shadow coiled around him. They grabbed his jaw and tilted his head to meet their gaze. Their grip was firm but not meant to hurt. Their eyes glinted red in the moonlight. They looked hungry, pensive, intoxicated.
“I did not say when I would be back, now did I? I asked you to do something simple for me inside. As a trust experiment. Just to see if you’d stick to your word, to not go looking for trouble, like I asked. It didn’t occur to me you’d be so rude as to rifle through my bedroom,” they said in a dangerously cool tone. They paused for a moment and cocked their head to the side inquisitively.
“Looking for something of mine, hmm?” they teased. They looked from Montague’s lips to his elongated neck. Cameron gently pulled his jaw to expose him even further, eyeing him over like a piece of meat.
The feeling of the darkness of the night continued to encroach on Monty, lights popping behind his eyes. He was an insect trapped in a web, prey. His knees quaked at Cameron’s touch. Their icy hand held against his warm flesh burned in contrast. The pool just below him taunted his mind. He would be lucky to make the water if he were pushed any further back.
“Please don’t kill me,” he pleaded, closing his eyes, waiting for something. He was met with cool breath, like the breeze against his neck, causing sparks to fly through his body. He felt the faint trace of lips against his jugular.
“Kill you?” Cameron laughed quietly against his neck. “No, no, I’m just messing with you,” they added before letting go of Monty’s jaw just a tad too roughly. “Why would you think I’d do such a thing?” they asked with a lingering laugh in their voice. As they backed away, the darkness in his vision receded again, just as it had before in the wine cellar. Despite feeling as if he’d been freed from a sticky web, his feet stayed planted right where he was.
“Wh-wha—?” he stammered, frozen by a strange mix of fear and excitement. He could feel his shorts becoming painfully tight with his arousal. He was shocked at how excited by their touch he had become.
“I’d like you to keep out of my room unless invited in,” they teased, still standing painfully close to him. He nodded, trying to swallow, though his throat was horrifically dry.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he apologized, his voice still trembling to his dismay.
“I will forgive it just this once. You are… dangerously curious, Monty,” Cameron remarked, backing away now. His neck still tingled where they had teased him.
“Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking,” he apologized again, heading for the balcony door. Cameron gripped his arm with incredible strength, stopping him in his tracks. He was taken aback, for how thin and frail they appeared, they were horrifically strong, nearly swiping him fully off his feet.
“If you keep snooping around looking for something, you’re eventually going to find it, and I can only warn you so many times before it’s too late,” Cameron hissed, severity dripping from their lips like venom. He stared at them in bewilderment for a moment.
“What?” He was still dumbfounded that they had nearly pulled him off his feet with such a slight gesture.
“I know what you’re looking for, even if you don’t, and when you do eventually find it… there will be nothing I can do to help you,” Cameron continued.
“I wish you’d be less cryptic.”
“Stop looking for answers about my mother,” they sighed as they released his wrist.
“How do you—?”
“Well, you are either a pervert interested in discovering the color of my underwear,” they began, narrowing their eyes, causing Monty to burn with embarrassment, “or you’re snooping in places you ought not be because you’ve severely misunderstood the nature of your relationship to my mother. Which I feel I should mention, most people have had that experience with her.”
“Now go,” they dismissed him.
Completely at a loss for words, Monty fled the balcony.
Haunting the Scavenger is now available for pre-order in paperback! Full release coming March 24th 2026 in paperback and eBook!
In this Gothic Horror Romance, Monty bites off more than he can chew in his pursuit to investigate the untimely death of his mentor, Dr. Giovanni, as he slowly becomes entranced by her only living heir, Cameron.
Learn more here!
