Hotel Midnight

Cover Hotel Midnight
Genres: Fiction
We cut ore from it. Mine it. We pump oil and gas from its depths. For centuries, during wars or when law and order collapsed, leaving people fearful and vulnerable, they entrusted their treasures to its safe-keeping.
Imagine the earth beneath your feet. You can’t see what lies there just an inch below the surface. Not normally, that is, unless you’ve a mind to start peeling back the turf and getting right down to where the dirt begins.
So, just what is down there? What’s hidden ten inches, ten
...feet, or ten miles beneath the foundations of your house, in that black crush of earth? It makes you think, doesn’t it? After all, didn’t we once believe it was the lair of demons? That Underground was the postal address for Hell?
  Now the time has come to tell it as it was. No embellishments. No detours. No crap. Last summer this happened to me. I can put my finger on when it all started. I don’t mean that figuratively: I mean it literally. I can put my finger on a crack in the wall that runs like a jagged pencil line from the kitchen sink as far as the windowsill, where Kathy’s potted ivy still weeps tendrils of green.
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