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Laura V. Keegan



 "We will begin when we end.

  That is the rule of eternity.

  The end. The beginning.

  The finalization of life, the birth of the haunt."




Listen to a passage  read by Boundless

Do you believe in ghoststhat these spirits walk among usalmost as if they are still alive? Enter the world of Haunting at Remington House and you will believe this to be true.


From the moment you begin reading Haunting at Remington House, author Laura V. Keegan leads you into the dark world of the supernaturalwhere those who have died still live! Tom Gardner, anguished and guilt-ridden by the death of his young wife, Elise, leaves his life in Jamestown to escape the insanity he barely survived after her death. At Remington House, Tom finds he is not only tormented by his dead wife’s spirit, but also by other spirits who have remained in this New England coastal home. The moment he begins his journey to his new home, the nightmare begins. 

The previous owners, Helen and Gabriel Lindeman, dead for many years, still reside in Remington House. And Tom is not a welcome guest. The Lindemans will horrify you as you realize their frightening powers over the entire household. 

Elise's ghost will stop at nothing to bring about the demise of her husband and all that is dear to him. Possession of those around her, the ability to appear as a human, her cunning newfound-strength and an alliance with Benjamin, a dark and formidable spirit, make her  far more dangerous. 

With lights dimmed, but never turned off, you will read into the night, turning page after page. You never know who is lurking at the end of the next hall. Is that a shadow or . . .  a ghost?


       "We will begin when we end.

         That is the rule of eternity.

         The end. The beginning.

         The finalization of life, the birth of the haunt."


—so begins the story of Remington House . . .

What readers are saying about Haunting at Remington House :


* Intriguing . . . Leaves the reader wanting more.   -H. Wells


* I was up until midnight, reading until my eyes wouldn't focus, completely caught up in your story. Wow! You really pull the reader in with the visceral details. Great work.   -Barbara Snow, Author The Sudden Caregiver: Surrendering to Enlightenment; The Phoenix Spring; and Inside Out


* Laura Keegan's new book is a masterpiece of intrigue, mystery and terror. Laura's cast of characters interact between the real world and the supernatural realm.The result is turmoil between the two. Laura's meticulous detail in characterization and settings creates dark and brooding imagery for the reader. Plan to be up all night reading this one.  -Patricia Ann Reid  author of  Sean's Secret Room-Ghostly Guide to an Old West Town and The Magical Red Flower- An Aztec Legend 


* Curl up in a comfy chair and settle in. You won’t want to put this book down. Although it offers plenty of bone chilling moments, you will also find that the relationships between the characters will keep your interest as well. Sara, Mary, Cassie and Terese were a lot of fun together. There were also some sizzling moments with Tom and Sara. Each character in the book brought something unique to the story. Looking forward to a sequel.   -Jamie McElhany


* If you love mystery, if the ghostly after life intrigues you, if you like interesting characters with a surprise ending, you must read Laura Keegan’s Haunting at Remington House.  It is rare when a book holds my attention until the last page, so I can heartedly recommend this intriguing book.  Enjoy the read!!    -Laurel Jean Becker, Author In the Heart of a Quiet Garden


* This book has all the intrigue that mystery lovers love. Laura Keegan's fascination with the "dark side" shines through every line, and her dedication to language makes this work a pleasure to read. - S. Langton


* Haunting at Remington House is a great read!  From the moment you begin turning the pages to the last words you’ll find yourself in a gripping fear.  Laura Keegan will keep you guessing as the plot twists and turns!  I highly recommend reading this book just not right before bedtime!  -Beth A. Hedberg






                                 Excerpts from Haunting at Remington House :


Helen and Gabe Lindeman studied the young woman as she slept curled in a blanket on the old bed that had once been a servant’s. They smiled at each other, completely delighted. Helen was the first to touch the woman. She thrilled as her hands made contact with the silky hair, as soft and wispy as a child’s. She marveled at the golden color, so like her own had been when she was young. Motioning Gabe to come to her side, Helen whispered, “Gabe, come and feel how smooth her skin is. She can’t be very old either, maybe thirty, don’t you think? Oh, she is lovely. Come dear, see how much she looks like me when I was a girl. Not quite as lovely as I was but lovely nonetheless. Here, feel her soft skin.”

     Helen took Gabe’s withered hand, pushing it down to make contact with the sleeping girl’s throat. “Gabe, she’s perfect. I knew someone would come to us. Why, she sleeps so soundly, she doesn’t even know we’re here. Gently, Gabe, touch her lips.” Helen carefully drew Gabe’s forefinger across Elise’s lips. “See, she doesn’t mind. Now, touch her eyelashes. See how silky they feel? Kiss them dear. Softly, don’t wake her yet. Let’s enjoy her for a while, don’t you think?” Helen murmured softly as she caressed Elise’s cheek.

     Gabe leaned over the girl, running his tongue slowly over her eyelids and down her nose. “I think you’re right, Helen. She must be the one,” he whispered. “We’ve waited so long for someone to come to us. Our sweet little Elise. We will take such good care of her, won’t we dear?” Gabe ran his fingers delicately down her arm to caress her hand, now clenched into a tight fist. “Let’s leave her now. No need to wake her. We’ll come back later, Helen. She’s tired. Come, we have plans to make.” The two held hands and vanished, leaving behind the acrid odor of decaying flesh.

     Elise screamed. Bringing her hands to her face, she felt her eyelids, her cheeks. The air reeked of dead flesh, the putrid odor lingering in the air. Shivering uncontrollably, she sat up and grabbed an old blanket, managing to pull it around her shoulders in one quick motion. Looking around the attic room, she saw no one. But she knew. They had been here again. She felt the oily marks left by their hands on her face and throat, smelled their stink around her. These were the same spirits she encountered a few days ago.

     Elise had the distinct impression they belonged to this house. She pulled the blanket tightly around her. They would have to go. She had no intention of sharing this house with them. She would find out who they are and why they were here—then she’d get rid of them. Somehow. And soon. Before they spoiled her plans for Tom.






Smells of saltwater and the pungent fishy odor of seaweed wafted into his nostrils. Tom was dancing with Elise along the sandy beach, just out of reach of the lapping waves. Sara stood at the top of the beach steps above them. Tom knew she had been watching them for some time. He stopped in mid-step, motioning her to come to him. She slowly descended the steep stairs and walked toward him, dragging her bare feet in the hard-packed sand. “Darling, Sara, how sad you look,” he said. “We’ll change that. Have you met Elise? She will cheer you up. Dance with Sara, Elise.”  He reached for Sara’s hand and pulled her toward him. Behind him, Elise laughed, reached her hand out to Sara.

       Delighted, Tom watched the women twirling round and round, the waves coming in closer and closer, finally swallowing their feet, their legs. Their pale, silk dresses, soaked and limp, floated weightlessly around them. The pounding waves enveloped the two women and swept them out to sea. Tom watched as they disappeared beneath the frothing waves into the black depths of the ocean. Haunting caws of a dozen ravens resonated through the night. Shadows of wings brushed Tom’s arms as he reached out into empty air.

     Tom woke with a start. Sitting up, he grabbed his aching head. His bandages had come off and there was blood all over his pillow. He felt stiff, achy, almost like he was hung over. Lifting his legs carefully over the side of the bed, he planted his feet gingerly on the floor and slowly stood. On the table by the window lay a small bag, next to it was a small, ivory pipe. “Who the hell’s been in here? Now what!”

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