ABOUT THE BOOK
There was no home quite like the Clark’s. Its magnificence outshone even the most royal of Estates, astonishing those who got the honor of invitation into the home. Its richness and beauty were owed largely to the lady of the home’s brilliant furnishing and her husband’s wealth. The exterior of the house was made of stone and brick, largely covered in ivy. The ivy wound up the wooden surface, burrowing into the balcony on the second floor. The main doors were large and oak stretching nearly to the second floor with large iron bolts, though they were rarely secured. The parlor and sitting room had a haunting beauty with floors and walls so dark they consumed all light leaving the furniture to yearn for sun. The entire first floor was a wonderful, enchanting labyrinth with new and exciting secrets in each room. In the winter months, the kitchen which was tucked away at the back of the home seldom saw the sun and was kept a mystery from the rest of the home. That part of the home was always colder than the rest, even in the summer months the kitchen staff would wear knit shawls over their uniforms. The main staircase, which led to the family’s quarters, was laid with a deep maroon carpet and bordered with stone railings. A separate, hidden staircase led to the only room on the third floor, the forgotten attic. It was a delightful mystery as was most of the house and like the rest of the house, it aged gracefully.
