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In 'Whispers at Dawn; Or, The Eye' by Roy J. Snell, readers are taken on a thrilling journey through a gothic mystery filled with suspense and supernatural elements. The book is written in a descriptive and atmospheric style, reminiscent of classic gothic literature, with vivid imagery that transports the reader to the eerie setting of the story. The narrative unfolds at a leisurely pace, allowing for a gradual buildup of tension and suspense, keeping the reader on the edge of their seat until the shocking conclusion. The book is a captivating blend of mystery, suspense, and supernatural elements, making it a must-read for fans of gothic fiction and suspenseful thrillers. Roy J. Snell's skillful storytelling and masterful control of suspense make 'Whispers at Dawn; Or, The Eye' a standout in the genre. The author's background in writing mystery and adventure novels for young readers shines through in this compelling and atmospheric tale, showcasing his talent for crafting engaging narratives that keep readers hooked from start to finish. I highly recommend 'Whispers at Dawn; Or, The Eye' to anyone looking for a gripping and atmospheric read that will send shivers down their spine and leave them guessing until the very end.
Whispers at Dawn
As Johnny Thompson put out a hand to ring the door bell of that brownstone house facing the deserted grounds of the Chicago Century of Progress and the lake, the door opened without a sound. He looked up, expecting to see a face, hear a voice, perhaps. The voice came: ÒStep inside, please.Ó But there was no face. The space before him was empty. A little puzzled, he stepped into the narrow passageway. Instantly in a slow, silent manner that seemed ominous, the door closed behind him. The place was all but dark. Certainly there was no lamp; only a curious blue illumination everywhere. A little frightened, he put out a hand to grip the door knob. It did not give to his touch. Indeed it was immovable as the branch of an oak. ÒLocked!Ó he muttered. Then for a space of seconds his heart went wild. From the wall to the right of him had flashed a pencil of white light. Like an accusing finger it fell upon something on the opposite wall. And that something was an eye, an eye in the wall,Ñor so it seemed to the boy. And even as he stared, with lips parted, breath coming short and quick, the thing appeared to wink.Ê
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