BURNT OFFERINGS
by Robert Marasco

I wish I’d written this ...

... because it's a great example of classic 1970s horror.

Here’s a novel that rattles along at an increasingly fast pace, establishing a spooky atmosphere, before arriving at a very well executed climax. Very enjoyable.

From the publisher

Ben and Marian Rolfe are desperate to escape a stifling summer in their tiny Brooklyn apartment, so when they get the chance to rent a mansion in upstate New York for the entire season for only $900, it's an offer that's too good to refuse. There's only one catch: behind a strange and intricately carved door in a distant wing of the house lives elderly Mrs. Allardyce, and the Rolfes will be responsible for preparing her meals.

But Mrs. Allardyce never seems to emerge from her room, and it soon becomes clear that something weird and terrifying is happening in the house. As the suspense builds towards a revelation of what really lies behind that locked door, the Rolfes will discover that their cheap vacation rental comes at a terrible cost ...

From the novel

The first page

"Not so fast, sweetheart. Back."
David, eight, stopped halfway across the living room, drew his shoulders up as though something sharp was about to hit him, and then turned slowly. Marian was standing in the small foyer in the rear of the apartment, between the two bedrooms. Her arm went up like a semaphore, pointing toward his room.
"That room was spotless when you came in," she said. "Remember?"
He dragged his feet over the rug and the wood floor she had just finished polishing. His sneakers made small rubbery sounds.
"Feet, please," Marian said as he walked past her. She followed him in. "See what I mean?"
David pulled his schoolshirt off the doorknob, opened the closet, and reached up for a hanger. "I forgot," he said lamely.
"For a smart kid you forget an awful lot." She watched him stab at the shirt with the hanger. "If you put the pants on first, you’d save a hanger, no?"
"The pants too?"
"Of course the pants too. And the shoes."
His pants were on the floor, next to a chair. He scooped them up and started to stuff one leg through the hanger.
"Honey . . . ?" Marian said patiently.
He lowered the hanger, emphatically. "I can’t do it when you’re watching me. I get nervous."