What is it that awaits those who enter the house on Old Mill Road?
Utilizing the Ouija board a friend has loaned her, Cammi Fanelli becomes panic-stricken from the mysterious messages received by a spirit calling himself,
"Malcolm." She bewails her decision to play with the game, due to curiosity, knowing that something sinister has entered her life. She tells no one about the incident.
Benjamin Treadwell, living almost a century before Cammi, struggles to build an empire for his family while teaching his son Benny to love their land. Always an optimist,
Benny is blind to the fact that his father has chosen to build his house on the entrance to the gates of Hell. Later he realizes, through horrific losses associated with
their home, that evil forces permeate his family’s property.
Sleeping demons awake with a vengeance to lead Cammi, her husband Michael and daughters Jenna and Renee on a journey that will forever change their lives. When Cammi
and Michael decide to move from Long Island into the Adirondack Mountains, they are unprepared for the harsh climate changes and the demonic forces that await them.
Their journey ends inside the old Treadwell homestead, where normal events mutate into paranormal experiences with devastating results.
Where the Story was Born
In 1969 I relocated my family from Long Island to the Adirondack Mountains. There we remained
for seven wonderful years. They were exciting, fun years spent raising my four children along with
chickens, pigs, rabbits and horses. We purchased an old turn of the
century Victorian home, not unlike the Treadwell residence.
My description of the layout of the house in the book is in reality, the layout of this home.
We lived a sparse existence, remodeling a little bit at a time. Life was continually
a struggle against the elements of nature and financial issues. But, the unsurpassed beauty of this
mountain range remains in the hearts of my children and myself, as strong today as it was in the
seventies. It is an extraordinarily beautiful part of our country. The fact is we moved there because
my husband got a job at Santa’s Workshop and he did some remodeling
work there. Living in the mountains year round afforded us the privilege to enjoy the beautiful
summer weather and the surreal beauty of the winters.
Obtaining enough heat in the house required creative thinking. And so, a small part of it was
heated by an enormous wood and coal burning monstrosity. We installed separate kerosene gas heaters
in each room, according to our budget. And so we went from
sleeping all together in the play room, to finally after some years having our own bedrooms.
It was quite the family experience.
One of my pleasures was sitting in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace with a raging blizzard
exploding outside my windows.After the children went to sleep I’d snuggle up close to the fire designing,
and sewing
my family quilt. In the silence of the room, with only the crackle of the fire, the rafters would crack from the
frigid temperature outside. Pretty soon, icy drafts would catch your attention swirling around your body.
Unexpectedly the cold would envelope you, sending frozen chills up your spine,
and causing your hair to stand on end.
Couple this with the usual paranormal experiences of ghostly footsteps, voices, and lights
continually turning on
and off. Add another element, an apparition of a woman in the kitchen. She
remains a forbidden specter that has been hanging around the house for a very long time,
standing eternal guard over her kitchen.
Immersed in this setting my story was born. Although I have not lived in this house for more
than thirty years it haunts me still to this day. This fictional story was conceived in my mind in an effort to explain the unexplained and to reconcile my obsession with this
house.
