I remember the first time I ever wrote a story. I was nine years old, and had stapled a few sheets of lined paper together in a crude attempt at creating a mock-up of the books that decorated my shelves. I called it ‘The Woman in White’, a ghost story naturally, and my parents were extremely amused by the ordeal.
I gave it to my mother after I was done, and after humoring me and reading it, she asked me where I had gotten the idea from. My answer was simple: I heard the voices of the characters in my head, and I simply wrote down what they said. I think that worried her more than my story.
Sometimes I feel that my answer was a little too close to the truth for comfort. When people ask me where I get the ideas for my stories from, I still attribute it to the voices in my head, begging to be heard, relentlessly haunting me until I’ve finished telling their tale.
Purgatory is the third and final book in the Sin Trilogy, and I joke about how Patrick Lahm and Jimmy Frey are finally at rest. They’ve told me their story, I’ve written it down, and they can finally stop whispering in my ear.
The only problem is, I can still hear that raspy voice asking me to confess, chuckling softly somewhere in the dark. And I know that, although Patrick Lahm has finished telling his tale, the monsters aren’t done with me yet.
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Keeping it spooky,