Cry of the Banshee: A Krewe of Hunters Novella, page 1
Cry of the Banshee
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
By Heather Graham
Cry of the Banshee
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
Copyright 2023 Heather Graham Pozzessere
ISBN: 979-8-88542-044-0
Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose
Published by 1001 Dark Nights Press, an imprint of Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Book Description
Cry of the Banshee
A Krewe of Hunters Novella
By Heather Graham
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Heather Graham comes a new story in her Krewe of Hunters series…
Strange things are happening at Castle Darien, the legendary home of Angela Hawkins Crow’s family just outside of Dublin, Ireland.
People are dying in the most unusual ways: drowning where there’s no water, falling from heights that don’t exist…
But before every death, the banshee lets out a cry, warning that loved ones are in danger. The Irish death ghost’s haunting shrieks and sobs echo within the ancient stone walls and travel up and down the hillsides.
Terrified and broken after the death of a friend, Moira Hawkins, Angela’s second cousin, turns to her family for help, convinced that evil is at work and sure the Krewe of Hunters can determine what is happening and put an end to the strange and deadly haunting.
Angela is mystified and stricken, but she and Jackson travel to the Emerald Isle to investigate, certain that someone very much alive is behind whatever is going on.
But she and the Krewe just might need the dead to uncover the truth.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
About Heather Graham
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Heather Graham, majored in theater arts at the University of South Florida. After a stint of several years in dinner theater, back-up vocals, and bartending, she stayed home after the birth of her third child and began to write. Her first book was with Dell, and since then, she has written over two hundred novels and novellas including category, suspense, historical romance, vampire fiction, time travel, occult and Christmas family fare.
She is pleased to have been published in approximately twenty-five languages. She has written over 200 novels and has 60 million books in print. She has been honored with awards from booksellers and writers’ organizations for excellence in her work, and she is also proud to be a recipient of the Silver Bullet Award from the International Thriller Writers and was also awarded the prestigious Thriller Master in 2016. She is also a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award from RWA. Heather has had books selected for the Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild, and has been quoted, interviewed, or featured in such publications as The Nation, Redbook, Mystery Book Club, People and USA Today and appeared on many newscasts including Today, Entertainment Tonight and local television.
Heather loves travel and anything that has to do with the water and is a certified scuba diver. She also loves ballroom dancing. Each year she hosts a ball or dinner theater raising money for the Pediatric Aids Society and in 2006 she hosted the first Writers for New Orleans Workshop to benefit the stricken Gulf Region. She is also the founder of “The Slush Pile Players,” presenting something that's “almost like entertainment” for various conferences and benefits. Married since high school graduation and the mother of five, her greatest love in life remains her family, but she also believes her career has been an incredible gift, and she is grateful every day to be doing something that she loves so very much for a living.
Also From Heather Graham
Click to purchase.
Krewe of Hunters series
Phantom Evil
Heart of Evil
Sacred Evil
The Evil Inside
The Unseen
The Unholy
The Unspoken
The Uninvited
The Night is Watching
The Night is Alive
The Night is Forever
The Cursed
The Hexed
The Betrayed
The Silenced
The Forgotten
The Hidden
Haunted Destiny
Deadly Fate
Darkest Journey
Dying Breath
Dark Rites
Wicked Deeds
Fade to Black
Pale As Death
Echoes of Evil
Christmas, the Krewe and a Large White Rabbit
The Summoning
The Seekers
The Stalking
Seeing the Darkness
Deadly Touch
Dreaming Death
Horror-Ween
The Best Christmas Ever
Sound of Darkness
Aura of Night
Voice of Fear
Other Books by Heather Graham
A Dangerous Game
A Perfect Obsession
Flawless
Waking the Dead
Let the Dead Sleep
Night of the Vampires
The Keepers
Ghost Moon
Ghost Night
Ghost Shadow
The Killing Edge
Night of the Wolves
Home in Time for Christmas
Unhallowed Ground
Dust to Dust
Nightwalker
Deadly Gift
Deadly Harvest
Deadly Night
The Death Dealer
The Last Noel
The Séance
Blood Red
The Dead Room
Kiss of Darkness
The Vision
The Island
Ghost Walk
Killing Kelly
The Presence
Dead on the Dance Floor
Picture Me Dead
Haunted
Hurricane Bay
A Season of Miracles
Night of the Blackbirds
Never Sleep with Strangers
Eyes of Fire
Slow Burn
Night Heat
Danger in Numbers
Crimson Summer
From 1001 Dark Nights
Crimson Twilight
When Irish Eyes Are Haunting
All Hallow's Eve
Blood on the Bayou
Hallow Be The Haunt
Haunted Be the Holidays
Blood Night
The Dead Heat of Summer
Haunted House
Descend to Darkness
Cry of the Banshee
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Donna Grant
Liliana Hart
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Laura Kaye
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Table of Contents
Book Description
About Heather Graham
Also from Heather Graham
Discover More 1001 Dark Nights Authors
Discover More Blue Box Press Authors
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Ten
Discover More Heather Graham
Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights
Special Thanks
One Thousand and One Dark Nights
Once upon a time, in the future…
I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.
I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and
the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast
library at my father’s home and collected thousands
of volumes of fantastic tales.
I learned all about ancient races and bygone
times. About myths and legends and dreams of all
people through the millennium. And the more I read
the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered
that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually
become part of them.
I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher
and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I
would not be telling you this tale now.
But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off
with bravery.
One afternoon, curious about the myth of the
Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to
see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar
(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then
sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written
and I had read that by the time he met Scheherazade,
the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand
women.
Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived
in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged
places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had
never occurred before and that still to this day, I
cannot explain.
Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have
taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can
protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to
protect herself and stay alive.
Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.
And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a
point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.
And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that
he might hear the rest of my dark tale.
As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new
one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before
you now.
Prologue
A Cry in the Night
At first, Moira Hawkins thought she might be imagining the sound. It was so soft at first, like a sigh on the wind or a whisper through the trees.
Except she wasn’t in the woods. She was lying in bed in the private wing of Castle Darien, her family’s nearly ancient stronghold.
But the windows were open. That had to be it. The temperature was cool but pleasant, and she didn’t need to use the heat or air-conditioning systems. Which was good since they would never be great in such an old stone fortress.
Moira had promised her grandmother she wouldn’t let the castle, built at the end of the thirteenth century, go to ruin. She said she would do everything needed to bring it up to the standards so many others used to save the structure and turn it into a hotel.
She was partway there. While she worked on getting the necessary loans and finding contractors to undertake such an epic restructuring, she hired a tour company to bring visitors through. There were even a few Haunted Ireland tours put on by historians, who talked about some of the dire events of the Emerald Isle’s bloody past.
She figured anything around for over eight-hundred years must have some nightmarish events to relay.
And her ancestral home was in the Republic of Ireland, which had suffered a great deal of bloodshed to get where it was today.
Yet…
It occurred to her that she had heard—or at least imagined—the soft, mournful sobs before.
The night Granny had died.
Imagination. Had to be.
But she’d heard the sound the night before they found the old man drowned in the river that ran alongside the castle’s western wall, too.
And the time the would-be thief fell to his death from the wall.
They’d learned the elderly gentleman, visiting family in the area, had been suffering from cancer. Moira wondered if he had chosen his end.
And while the thief shouldn’t have been trying to climb the wall, he hadn’t deserved death.
As she thought back, she realized the sound had preceded all those events.
She shook her head. She had to be imagining it. She might have spent the last few years of Granny’s illness working in the States, but she’d grown up with all the tales of leprechauns, pixies, fairies, and banshees. Granny had been so good at telling them, holding her cousins and her spellbound as she wove her magical tales.
The crying grew louder. She wasn’t imagining it. She could definitely hear it.
It wasn’t a frightened cry. It was mournful, heartfelt. Yet Moira was afraid.
Where is it coming from?
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table—just past midnight.
The last ghost tour had ended by now, but she wasn’t alone in the castle. Stewart McKenna, her grandmother’s longtime castle steward, slept down the hall with his wife. Their son’s bedroom was next door to theirs. Nellie Antrim, the head housekeeper, was on this floor, as well. And while the tour of the two unoccupied towers had just ended, Mark Meadows, the tour agency’s director, often stayed behind to answer any questions the guests might have regarding the castle or Ireland’s history. Because, of course, Mark wasn’t just a businessman, though he was a good one. He truly loved history and didn’t mind working late. He was…wonderful.
The sobbing continued.
Moira’s mind went to something her granny had told her.
Banshee. Banshees are the remains of the Tuatha dé Danann, the gods of Ireland, driven underground when the Milesians arrived—Gaels who traveled the Earth, seeking a home. And there, in Éire, they claimed the land while the Tuatha dé Danann settled the underworld. Once, keeners had been on hand at funerals, sobbing mournfully for those who had left the earthly world. The banshees fulfilled that tradition now, warning of someone’s death…
Get a grip! she told herself. Seriously, she’d spent enough time in the United States to learn all about all kinds of myths and legends from around the world.
There are no such things as banshees.
Still…
She leapt out of bed, determined to dress quickly and find out what was happening. Stewart was only rooms away, and if she ran across the great hall that separated her from the Great Tower, she was sure she’d find Mark lingering.
She was being ridiculous. Of course, she’d never expected to come home to Ireland, only to sit by her beloved Granny’s side until her departure, then be charged with saving their ancestral home. She hadn’t thought of herself as an extreme coward, but then again…
She wasn’t a cop or an enforcer of the law. She’d been an actress, for God’s sake.
Act brave! she told herself.
But bravery fled quickly.
About as fast as she ran out of her room.
