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Red Solstice
A secluded cabin, two sisters, and a healing ritual.
Book One of the Chilling Red Solstice Series is releasing now!
As snow envelops the mountains, their winter getaway spirals into a nightmarish struggle against an ancient, awakened horror, turning the Winter Solstice into a fight for survival.
Meet Mona Germaine
Mona Germaine is a storyteller who intertwines the eerie with the enchanting, crafting dark urban fantasies and horror tales where love and monsters coexist. Her stories invite readers into atmospheric worlds where the supernatural becomes intimately real. The Etherialm promises readers not just stories, but experiences that haunt and delight in equal measure.
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Prequel
Laura rubbed the temple of her friend’s tacky forehead, feeling the cool, clammy skin beneath her fingertips. Ike's breathing had grown shallower over the past few hours, his face turning an alarming shade of pale.
Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage on his leg, where deep gashes revealed torn muscle and splintered bone. The freezing temperatures made it nearly impossible to keep his wound clean, let alone prevent infection. Each time she checked the bandage, her heart sank further at the sight of it.
"Hang in there, Ike," she whispered, her voice trembling as she adjusted the rough blanket. His silence was deafening, the howling wind drowning her words. The biting cold gnawed at her exposed skin, each gust an icy blade slicing through her. Fear crept in, her hand shaking slightly as she fought to stay calm.
Ike’s skin was ashen, lips tinged blue with creeping frostbite. His body shivered uncontrollably beneath the layers of blankets.
Despite Laura’s best efforts, the relentless cold seeped into his bones, his breaths coming sporadically, weak gasps that mirrored the faint hope she clung to.
Death hovered over them.
Laura’s heart sank as she glanced around the campsite. Shanel huddled close to the dying fire, trembling, eyes wide with fear as she stared into the dark abyss beyond the flickering light. Beside her, John lay unconscious, breaths shallow and irregular, a deep four-pronged gash slashing diagonally across his face and chest.
The crisp, cold air carried a faint, metallic tang that churned Laura’s stomach. Each breath intensified the nauseatingly sweet smell of decay, mingling with the acrid scent of charred wood from their dying fire. The combination deepened her queasiness, making it hard to focus on anything else
Gingerly, she lifted her hands to her face, rubbing circles along her wind-chapped cheeks, desperate to break through the numbing feeling. Her mind raced. They had been out here in the mountains for days, lost and stranded after that thing attacked. A chill skittered down her spine, and she let out a moan as pain twinged through her, her face contorting in discomfort.
These had been the worst days of her life, and that was saying something.
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