This Haunted World Book One: The Venetian: A Chilling New Supernatural Thriller

This Haunted World Book One: The Venetian: A Chilling New Supernatural Thriller Read Free

Book: This Haunted World Book One: The Venetian: A Chilling New Supernatural Thriller Read Free
Author: Shani Struthers
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doors were the words Venezia Palazzo Barocci . As she pushed them open and stood in the lobby, she saw that the interior was as grand as the outside. It was nothing less than opulent, with a white marbled floor, and tasteful accents of gold, red and black in the décor. Paintings of Old Venice graced the walls – harking back to a time when it had been a trading port rather than a tourist destination. In the boat Rob had said he hoped she liked the hotel he’d chosen. She didn’t – she loved it.
    As they walked towards the reception desk, one of the paintings in particular caught her eye. Unlike the others it was of a house, set over an archway, a quiet lane beneath. It hadn’t been romanticised, just the opposite; it was bleak, Dickensian in style she’d say. He’d been here too hadn’t he, during his Grand Tour of Europe? That was something else that had come up when she’d researched Venice: Charles Dickens having visited, and how he’d described it as a dreamlike city, ‘so decadent it confused the senses.’ Had images of Italy inspired his books or had they been written before? Whichever way round, the scene in front of her looked more like nineteenth century London than London probably had. But it was Venice all right; a gold plaque underneath with the single word Venezia on it confirmed that fact. She was so looking forward to exploring, to immersing herself in its character and atmosphere.
    About to turn from the painting and join Rob, something else about it captured her. In the window of the house was a shape. Taking a few steps closer, she peered at it. It was a figure, a woman perhaps, something white covering her head – a veil? The artist had made her hazy, as though you were looking at her through layers of gauze. Was she an afterthought, or the focal point? Were you meant to spot her straightaway or was she intended as a late ‘surprise’? Quickly, her eyes scanned the rest of the windows, but they were empty, no one else loitering. Whoever the figure was, she stared back at Louise, taking advantage of having been noticed, mesmerising her.
    “Darling, would you like a glass of champagne?”
    Champagne? With some effort Louise managed to tear her gaze away. Rob already had a glass and the receptionist was holding the bottle, ready to pour another.
    “Oh, erm… yes, please. That would be lovely.”
    “Welcome to Venice, Mr and Mrs Henderson,” said the woman as Louise walked to the desk – Gisela from the nametag – her voice only slightly accented. “Is it your first time?”
    “It’s my first time,” Louise took the glass from her. “Thank you for this, how lovely.”
    “It is a pleasure,” Gisela smiled. She was young and pretty, with dark hair in a chignon, red lips and kohl-rimmed eyes – the very epitome of chic. Louise noticed Rob gazing at her appreciatively and felt very dour, very English in comparison, dressed as she was in jeans, boots and a somewhat scruffy black jumper, her hair also untidy from the journey. Being gorgeous seemed so effortless for foreign women, whereas she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that way. Get a grip . She raised the glass to her lips and sipped. He’s allowed to look . As another young couple, clearly guests too, walked past them and out into the night, she found herself admiring the male half, tall and lean with a sharp suit on. And you’re allowed to look too . The thought of which made her giggle.
    “Cheers,” said Rob, clinking his glass against hers.
    “Cheers,” Louise replied.
    Her attention back on him, he looked relaxed. So easily he’d put that encounter with the taxi man behind him. His eyes were as lively as Gisela’s, his smile wide. He was handsome, she realised – surprised at how often she ‘forgot’ that. Then again, when you lived with a person for so long, you tended to see the whole person, to focus on their essence rather than their looks. She was sure the same was true of him. A shame

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