The Spectral Bride

The Spectral Bride by Margaret Campbell
published by Signet Books
Copyright 1975

Terror or Romance,
Legend or Love?

Was lovely Adelaide Fenton a simple country girl, or was
she the pale shadow of another maiden who had met
violent death many years before? Was handsome James
Daintry, the last Earl of the Seagroves, a fanciful
young man, or the final victim of a legendary specter
which had taken its toll in madness and sorrow?
Was it the power of love which drew them together, or
were they caught in a darker pattern - cursed for a crime
they did not commit, reliving a tale they scarcely knew?

Adelaide's family warned her not to look beyond her
station. James's advisors tried to keep him from their
secret trysts. But fate beckoned them on, down a
pathway from which no once could turn them, on a journey
which must lead them to happiness or death ...

Okay, so is this cover supposed to lead us to believe that these "trysts" between Adelaide and James take place in a cemetery? And not just any normal run-of-the-mill cemetery either but a long forgotten, tall-grass, crumbling tombstone, condemned "where's the roof" abandoned church, kind of cemetery?

I mean, stealing a few hours with a forbidden lover could be great, but not if you spend those few hours checking each other's hair for ticks. I feel certain if they don't have ticks they are at least assaulted by chiggers.

I just don't think that shaw is going to give Adelaide the protection she needs in that environment but I'm not sure what would. Maybe one of those suits that people who keep bees have. Or at the very least she needs to be carrying a fly-swatter. Maybe it could be hanging elegantly from her wrist tied with a little satin ribbon.

Cat's Prey

Cat's Prey by Dorothy Eden
published by Coronet Books
Copyright 1952

'No-one can suggest an eerie
atmosphere and the sinister trifle
better than Miss Dorothy Eden'
THE GUARDIAN

When Antonia arrived in Auckland, the voice that
warned her of danger over the telephone sounded
heavy and menacing. It decoyed her away from the
hotel - and while she was away someone searched her
room.

When she eventually reached her cousin Simon's
house, were the noises she heard in the night those of
an imprisoned and terrified woman, or just echoes in a
mind stretched to exhaustion? Surely she wasn't
imagining the light in the deserted wing ... ?

That is two book in a row with someone being menaced via telephone. Do you think Dorothy Eden had some issues to work through?

Our cover artist appeared to have signed their work "GD" but I have had no luck tracking down any information on them. You've got to love the matching eye shadows and dress though and anytime you can have a font color match someone's hair it is truly marketing genius! But, quite frankly, I am disappointment that there isn't actually a cat.

An Afternoon Walk

An Afternoon Walk by Dorothy Eden
published by Fawcett Crest Books
Copyright 1971

THE SHRILL RINGING
OF THE PHONE ...

shattered the peaceful sun-drenched afternoon.

The voice was the voice of a stranger. "Am I
speaking to Mrs. Simpson?"

"Yes," said Ella tensely, "I am Mrs. Simpson."

"The very lady I want. Just a word of advice,
love. Drive carefully."

The caller hung up abruptly.

Not that Ella would have wanted to talk to him.
She hated the sound of his voice. Very vulgar. But
why was he calling her all the time? Warning her?
About lots of things. Even about her small
daughter, Kitty.

"Do you know where Kitty is?" the voice
threatened.

Her husband didn't believe a word of it. Told her
she was imagining things. That she was loony.

He also didn't believe about the old, empty house
she and Kitty had stumbled upon a few afternoons
ago.

But she had seen the house. And so had Kitty. And
now that she thought about it she realized that all
her troubles had begun with the visit to that house.

There was something dark and evil about the
place. Something terrible. But what? And who
would believe her even if she did find out?

Now I don't want to take sides here, but really, I'm sure her husband has some reason to not believe her. A person just doesn't up and decide to call their spouse a loon without some precedent. The poor man has probably been through all this before. He has probably struggle with it only to finally break down and accept that fact that his poor wife was crazy and very likely had passed the "crazy gene" town to their child.

How horrible for him. How utterly hopeless a place to find yourself, with no one to talk to but the loon herself.

Poor, poor Mr. Simpson.