THE WITCHPOOL – A Frost Harrow Story


A Frost Harrow™ Halloween Story – 2023

1991 – Summer

Jenni Malone gazed across the long, narrow pond secluded within the private forest northeast of Frosthaven.  The placid waters reflected the cloudless summer sky like a blue mirror.  The whisper of a breeze barely tickled the tops of the reeds and verdant grasses at the swimming hole’s edge.  The afternoon sun shone brightly through the trees, mostly tall pines dotted by the occasional majestic oak.  The warm air smelled of the woods, the water, and fresh, growing greenery.

“It’s beautiful.”  Jenni’s words came out as barely a soft breath, but her companion heard them clearly enough.

“I know.  Right?”  Isabella “Izzy” Garcia, nearly nineteen and full of post-high-school energy, grinned at her friend.  “Way too nice for just a bunch of rich assholes to enjoy.  Private, schmivate!”

Jenni nodded, still stunned by the idyllic scene.  The sparkling, woodland tarn looked like something out of a picture book.  She could hardly believe such an unspoiled place existed so near to the city.  “Why do they call it ‘The Witchpool’?”

“Some frickin’ legend.  Angry locals dumped a witch into it or something.”  Izzy smiled again and shrugged.  “Look, there’s Aiden.”  She waved excitedly.  “Hey, Rax!”

A guy with stringy, straw-colored hair, cut like a punk version of the Beatles, looked up from where he was lounging with a half dozen other teens on blankets spread by the shore, maybe thirty yards away.  Jenni had been so enraptured by the landscape, she hadn’t noticed them before.

Aiden “Rax” Raxans raised his hand lazily and bobbed his head slightly by way of returning Izzy’s greeting.  Then he lay back on one of the big picnic blankets at the waterside and returned to chatting with the small group surrounding him.

Jenni recognized most of the people in “Rax’s Pack,” which came as a relief.  She’d been worried that her headstrong friend might be dragging them into yet another sketchy situation.  Most of the partiers looked to be Jenni and Izzy’s age—recent Frost High graduates, probably from the last year or two.

At the pond’s edge, former high-school football stud Jack Harris was tossing the pigskin with his jockette counterpart, Elena Philips, and Willy Karlen, who everybody called “Weasel.”  Harris and Weasel were bare chested and wore baggy swim trunks, Elena a purple one-piece, cut high on her hips.

Further up the shore, maybe ten yards from the rest. a serious looking, dark-haired young man Jenni didn’t recognize sat on a wide rock quietly chatting with Angelique Adams, who was leaning into him in a very intimate way.  Angelique’s outfit du jour included a studded black crop-top and matching shorts, complementing her wavy ebony hair (of course).  She never went anywhere—even swimming—without doing so in High Goth fashion.

“Jen… C’mon!  It’s hot!”  Izzy tugged Jenni’s hand, impelling them toward Rax’s group.

With a soft chuckle, Jen allowed herself to be dragged along.

But she stopped short when the others gathered around Rax turned toward her.  These were not people she’d been hoping to encounter out here in the woods.

Heather Conway rolled her eyes theatrically as Jen and Izzy approached.  How the bubble-headed dyed-blonde party girl could think herself better than anyone baffled Jenni.

Bobby Farmakis, lean and wolf-like, nodded at the newcomers with a gleam in his eyes that looked entirely too predatory for Jenni’s liking, despite his “harmless” reputation.

Worst of all, the woman sitting next to Rax—who had been hidden from Jenni before—stood, as they approached.  Barely dressed in a skimpy navy-blue bikini, she tossed her straight dirty-blond hair casually, and her blue-green eyes flashed with malicious amusement.

“Shit…!” Jenni muttered.

She met her rival’s gaze, forcing herself not to back down or look away.  It was like peering into an evil mirror.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in…!” Nikki Malone, Jenni’s older sister, drawled.  “Finally worked up the courage to come out and have some fun; did you?  And dragged along your little maidservant, too, I see.”  Her disdainful eyes gave Izzy the once over.

“Shut up, you,” Jenni growled through clenched teeth.  “I wouldn’t have come if I’d known you were going to be here.”

Rax rose to his feet, and everyone else—even Angelique and her man on the rock—rose as well.  The impromptu football game stopped.

“Now, now, girls,” Rax said. “This is supposed to be an afternoon of fun and frivolity.  You’re not going to drag any family feuds into it, are you?”

Jack Harris laughed.  “I dunno… Catfighting sisters would be pretty awesome, if you ask me.”

“Nobody asked you,” Elena Philips commented. She threw the football at him, but Jock—as post people called him—got his hands up in time to block it from hitting his face.

“M-maybe we should a-all go for a swim,” Willy Karlen suggested.

“Weasel’s got a grand idea,” Rax agreed.  “It’s a hot day, and we could all use a dip to cool off.  Jock, you and Lena stop scowling at each other and get wet.  The rest of you, grab a beer from the cooler if you want and join us.”

With that, he shrugged off his blue Hawaiian shirt and strode toward the water, the nineteen-year-old king of all he surveyed.

Jenni glanced at Izzy, wanting to leave, but her friend bounced eagerly.

“C’mon.  It’ll be fun!”  Izzy stripped off her white T-shirt and shorts. revealing a conservative flower-print bikini beneath.  “Hey, Bobby, I was telling Jen this place is haunted by a witch or something.  That’s why they call it The Witchpool.”  She giggled.

He laughed as he stripped down to his blue denim trunks.  “Yeah.  Or something.  You know… They say that on this very spot, some nutty villagers hanged an old witch—”

“A young witch,” Heather corrected as she adjusted her lime-green string bikini.  “I bet she was totally bitchin’.”

Bobby frowned playfully at her; she blew him a kiss.

“Anyway…” he continued.  “They hanged some chick here 200 years ago.”

“Frosthaven’s not even 150 years old,” the young man sitting next to Angelique on the rocks interjected.  He and his date were the only two not heading into the water.

Bobby waved away his notion.  “Yeah, whatever you say, Tony.  Maybe it was Indians or something.”

Tony only frowned and shook his head; Angelique nuzzled closer to him.

Bobby hooked his thumb at them.  “High Lord of the Manor.”  He sneered and chuckled.

“I thought Rax was Lord of the Manor,” Izzy put in.  Bobby merely shook his head.

“So, who is that?” Jenni asked, curiosity peaked.  This Tony seemed a lot more sober than the rest of Rax’s crew.

“That is the all-mighty Anthony-fucking-Frost, himself,” Bobby replied.

Izzy’s brown eyes went wide.  “He’s one of… them?”

“Yep.  Owns this little bog and all these woods for miles around.  All the trees and every dog that pees on them.  Doesn’t seem too interested in this shindig, though; does he?  I think Angelique dragged him out to our little picnic, but…”  Here, Bobby lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.  “…I think she just came for my weed.”

He gave a little thrust with his hips, but Jenni knew that instead of his dick, he really meant the marijuana supply he was justly famous for.  She’d even tried Bobby’s “brand” a couple of times in high school.

Around her sister, though, she remained determined to stay clear headed.  No need to give Nikki any untoward advantage in their family squabbles.

“Hey, what you peons waiting for?” Rax called.  “Is this a swimming party or a gab fest?  Get wet!  That’s an order!”

Izzy giggled.  “Told you he was Lord of the Manor.”  She splashed into the pond; Bobby followed.

Jenni watched as the rest—except for Tony and Angelique, who stayed on their rock—frolicked in the clear waters.  Despite the surrounding forest, the sun beat down on her fair skin, and she cursed herself for not thinking to bring any sunscreen.  It would definitely feel good to cool off.

So, she reached behind her back, found the strings of her candy-stripe bikini bra, and tied them at the nape of her neck.  Then she stripped off her pink tube-top and blue shorts and slipped out of her flip-flops.

The grass felt warm and slightly prickly under her bare feet, and the air smelled of clear spring water and greenery, as she crunched to the shore.

“Hey!” her sister called.  “Is that what you’re gonna wear?”


“I thought you were gonna give us a preview of your new work outfit,” Nikki teased.

Jenni tried to fight down a blush, but failed.

“What’s she doing?” Jack asked.  “Working at the Puss ’n Boots?”  Those in the water laughed at the mention of the local strip club—even Izzy.

“Close!” Nikki declared.  “Jenni’s modeling for ‘art classes’ down at the Frosthaven Museum—modeling in the nude.”

Jenni’s whole, red-flushed body tensed, and for a moment, only the distant chirping of birds broke the stillness of the warm summer air.  A tingling paralysis spread from her head to the tips of her toes, just touching the water’s edge.

“Well… All right!” Jack declared, enthusiastically thrusting his fist into the air.  “Way to go, Jenni Malone!  Take it off, and come on in!”

“Where’s your stripper pole?” Heather asked with a laugh.

Jenni sneered at her.  “In your bedroom, bimbo!”

That brought an approving “Whoa…!” from most of those in the water, though Heather muttered something Jenni didn’t catch.

But despite the small triumph, Jenni still felt rooted to the spot.

“C’mon, sis,” Nikki urged.  “I know your tits are smaller than mine, but let’s compare.”  With that she stripped off her bikini top, displaying her large, firm breasts to the summer sun.

“Yeah!” someone—Jenni wasn’t sure who—shouted.  “Let’s do a no-T-shirt contest!”  The men in the water boomed their approval while the women balked, except for Nikki, who proudly displayed her goods.


A clear tenor voice cut through the jibes and laughter.

Everyone turned to watch as Tony Frost rose to his feet.

“There’s nothing wrong with art modeling,” he said firmly.

His violet eyes gazed straight at Jenni, and her body didn’t feel stiff anymore.  Life returned to her paralyzed limbs and for a moment, she actually felt… good—all warm inside.

“Modeling isn’t stripping, and it’s not prostitution, or any of that kind of shit,” he continued.  “If the rest of you want to strip off that’s fine, but cut the girl a break, and let her swim in peace.”

“Says the guy who can buy any stripper he wants,” Rax quipped.

Tony’s handsome face reddened.

Angelique, who had stood along with Tony, glanced from him to Jenni and back.  Was that jealousy sparking in her dark eyes?

Jack thrust an angry finger at Tony.  “Who do you think you are, telling us what to do?”

“Y-yeah,” Weasel agreed.  “Your family may own half this town, b-but you don’t own us!”

“My family owns these woods—and this pond.”

Tony’s reply didn’t seem to make much of an impression on the agitated townies.

Heather sneered at the couple on the rock.  “Come down out of your castle and join the rest of us, why don’t you?  You too good to swim with us poor folks?”

“Everybody… Settle down,” Izzy put in.

Bobby waded to the shore where Jenni still stood, caught between being angry and mortified.  “Hey, Tony’s right,” he said.  “Girl’s gotta make a living, doesn’t she?  And if Nikki wants to show off her tits—”

“Nice t-tits!” Weasel interjected.

Nikki bowed, her breasts bobbing as if in appreciation.

“—And Jenni doesn’t… So what?  It’s a hot day.  Let’s all just have some fun.”  He put his arm around Jenni’s shoulders, protectively.

It felt good.  Maybe she’d misjudged him.

The look he gave her seemed entirely sympathetic.  “You okay?”

She nodded.

Izzy bounced out of the water, taking her friend by the hand.

Congenially, Bobby led the two women toward the Witchpool.  “C’mon.  Let’s swim.  Unless you want a beer…?”

Jenni shook her head.  “Let’s swim.”  She’d be damned if she was going to let her sister chase her off.

Tony Frost sat back down.  Angelique did the same, though, perhaps, reluctantly.

Jenni, Izzy, and Bobby dived into the pond.

The cool water felt great on Jen’s overheated skin.  A few dips under and she felt like a new woman—a woman who didn’t mind her sister cavorting topless with a bunch of former high school under-achievers.

Jenni wondered what the others would do with the rest of their lives.  What would she do?  Working as a store clerk and posing for art classes couldn’t be a career—could it?

But she and her family were too poor to send their kids to even a two-year school like UW Frosthaven, which was why Jenni was picking up cash where she could, and Nikki spent her time bussing tables.  Not that her elder sister had ever seemed to crave any higher education.

And with the family’s financial situation, Jenni had never even considered college.

What did she want to do with her life?

“Hey, look what I found,” Jack declared, emerging from the bushes.  “I was taking a piss, and I found this laying on the ground.”  He held up a fistful of two-inch-wide rope. A long line of it trailed behind him.

“Maybe it’s the rope they hanged the witch with!”  The way Heather said it, Jenni couldn’t tell if she believed the suggestion or not.

“Thass stupid!” Izzy slurred; she’d been hitting the beer cooler pretty hard—and maybe some of Bobby’s weed as well.  Most of them had.

“Yeah,” Elena, not much more sober, agreed.  “That witch rope’d have rotted years ago—decades, at least.”

Jack looped the cord between his arms.  “We could make a swing… Swing out over the pond.”

Weasel’s eyes seemed to light up.  “Y-yeah!  We could loop it over that b-big tree there.”  He pointed to an ancient oak with a thick limb dangling over the water.

The rest murmured enthusiastically, and the idea even sounded like fun to Jenni, but Tony’s voice cut across the placid water once more.  He and Angelique had briefly joined the rest in the tarn, only to return to cuddling on the large rock at shoreside.

“That’s the tree they hanged the witch from,” he noted.

Jack shrugged.  “So what?  That was ages ago.”

“You saying the tree is haunted?” Heather demanded.

Tony rose, as did his girlfriend.

“No… But…”

“Then what difference does it make?” Bobby asked.

“Sure,” Elena said.  “It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah… It could be fun…” Rax drawled.  “If His Highness will let us.”  The look he shot at Tony combined a challenge… and disdain.

The Frost heir tensed, balling his fists.

“Tony…” Angelique whispered.  “Let’s leave.”  She’d been casting jealous eyes across the pond ever since Tony spoke up for Jenni—even while all of them were swimming.

Tony glanced at her and then turned back to the others.  “Do what you want.  We’ve got other places to be.”

With that, he took his girlfriend’s hand, and they stalked off into the woods.

“Just don’t send the cops after us, Big Man!” Jack called.  “Remember… You were partying, too!”

If Tony and his date heard him, neither replied.

It didn’t take long for the rest to rig up the rope swing.

“Now the party can really begin!” Rax declared, though Jenni couldn’t be sure if it was because of the new swing, or because Tony Frost wasn’t there to keep an eye on them any longer.

And without “the law”—as Weasel now called Tony—watching, the party did swing into high gear.  The drinking ramped up, and Bobby hiked to Rax’s jeep and dug out a much larger stash of weed than he’d shared before.

“This shit is even better,” he promised, handing out freebies to all the rest.

Jenni abstained—not wanting to give her sister any more ammunition, besides the nude modeling bombshell.

But the younger Malone sister got all the rush she needed from the rope swing.

The weathered old cable was long—it stretched out over a nice, deep part of the pool—and it swung fast, and maybe Jack had been a hangman in a previous life, because the loop (which looked like a noose) that he made on the end of it proved plenty sturdy for a good launch.

A piece of clothesline, also secured from Rax’s jeep, attached strategically to the bigger cord, allowed them to pull the main rope back to shore for a quick relaunch.

At first, the group took turns lining up atop the small rise at the base of the old oak tree for a joyous run-up, a swift swing with a foot in the loop, and then glorious moments of freefall before splashing into to the Witchpool’s cool, clear water.

For Jenni, ignoring the miasma of booze and drugs around her, the joy of leaping and swimming and then doing it again, over and over, transported her years back, before she was a high school graduate… before she got her first job, or had her first lover, or stole her first kiss…

Back to the carefree days of her childhood, when even the worst family trials could be solved by a simple hug.  Back to when her sister loved her, and wasn’t a cynical, scheming bitch.

Jenni remembered the summer afternoons with her family and friends on the shores of Lake Superior, or at a park, or even a secluded pond like this.  The Witchpool washed away all the intervening years of accumulated miseries.

She became so engrossed in the thrill and her memories that she didn’t even notice when Jack and Elena left the swimming hole: sneaking off quietly to find some place to ball, most likely.

Then she spotted a very drunk Izzy meandering off into the woods with Weasel—Weasel of all people!  The giggling couple fumbling with each other’s swimsuits was hard to miss.

“Izzy…!” Jenni shouted, but…  No use.  By the time she swam to shore, her friend had vanished into the forest as completely as Tony and Angelique had, earlier.

“Izzy…!” she called repeatedly until Rax said:

“Give it a break, girl.  Let people fuck in peace, why don’t ya?”

Nikki sneered.  “Yeah, sis!  Lighten up and have some fun.”  She and Heather, both topless now, had draped themselves, like blonde pythons, around Rax.

“Want a Leinie… or a toke?” Bobby offered, taking a long swig from his beer and handing Rax a fat joint.

Jenni shook her head.  “I wanna keep swimming.”

“Suit yourself, babe,” Bobby said, plopping down by the cooler and opening another Leinenkugel.

“The girls and I are going for a… walk,” Rax announced.  Nikki and Heather, clearly stoned out of their minds, giggled.

“Yeah… Walk,” Heather managed between snickers.  “As in fuck.”

As they walked toward the pines, Nikki turned and said: “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, little sister.”  She stuck out her tongue to punctuate the jibe.

Jenni stuck out her tongue as well and then sprinted to the rope swing, sailed into the air, and splashed into the chilly water of the tarn.

She emerged refreshed once more, tugging her bikini back into place.  Yes, she was modeling nude for art classes, but that was her choice, and it was dignified—unlike stripping off for a bunch of drunken stoners in the woods.

Bobby staggered to his feet as she pulled her bottoms back down on her butt.

“Hey, babe…” he said, swerving toward her, “Want to get busy?”

Only then did she realize that the two of them were now alone in the forest, at least a mile from anywhere; all the others had left.

He grinned at her, half friendly, boozy leer, half hungry wolf.

“No, thanks,” she replied.

He reached for her.  “Wanna beer…?  Or some weed…?”

She stepped back.  “Nope.  Girls just wanna have fun; you know?”

“It’ll be fun.  Promise.”  He reached for her again.

She sprinted away from him, grabbed the rope, swung out over the pond, and…


Jenni’s stomach lurched as, unexpectedly, gravity betrayed her, and instead of soaring, she fell.


She smacked into the water hard, on her back, limbs flailing, foot caught in the noose of the rope.

The sky circled briefly overhead.  A dark shadow fell toward her.  She tried to duck.


The thick, broken tree limb missed her head, but caught her on the shoulder.

“Help!” she cried as the ancient branch pushed her down.

Bobby drunkenly reached for her—despite being at least five yards away.  He staggered forward and then fell flat on his face, into the muddy shore, as Jenni went under.

She struggled, but the rope seemed alive; it wrapped around her like a hungry anaconda. The broken limb’s smaller branches clawed at Jenny, scratching her exposed skin.

She battled back to the surface, pushing at the rough branches trying to hold her down, pulling against the rope.


“Can’t swim… too… drunk,” Bobby blubbered.  Somehow, he regained his feet… But then he staggered away from the pond.  “I’ll… get help… phone’s in Rax’s jeep…”

“NO!  Fuck!  Hel—!”

She went under again.  The rope wrapped around her neck, dragging her down.  The more she struggled, the more entangled she became.  The claw-like branches continued to tear her pale flesh.

From the darkness of the deep water below, a face emerged—a hideous, pale countenance with dead, hollow eyes and weedy black hair.

The rope wrapped around the corpse, binding them together.

Jenni tried to hold her breath, but her lungs felt crushed… Bubbles seeped out her mouth and nose.

The tarn witch reached for her, pale talons glistening in the darkness.

Jenni wanted to scream, but she had no air left.

The rope squeezed ever tighter…  She couldn’t breathe…  Couldn’t fight…  Couldn’t do anything.

The witch pulled her down…

Drowning her…



And then…


Out of the cold, dark water and into the bright sunlight…

Strong hands pulling her up…

Out of the clutches of the witch…

She gasped for breath.  Relieved tears streamed down her face, as someone dragged her toward shore.

“Thank you…  Thank you…” she sputtered, spitting pond water.

Her eyes weren’t working right.  She only saw a looming silhouette, blotting out the late afternoon sun.


“That asshole ran off,” replied a calm tenor voice.  “You’re lucky I happened by.”

Jenni squinted at her savior.  “Tony…?”

He nodded and helped her untangle herself.  Somehow, the thick loops of rope didn’t seem so knotted up now—now that the witch had gone.  Or had she imagined that pale corpse and the cable coming alive?

“And you’re Jenni, right?  Jenni Malone—Nikki’s sister?”

Jenni’s laugh turned into a sputtering cough.  “Anything but that,” she finally managed.  “But yeah.  Do you know her?”

“Only enough to avoid her when I can.  She’s one of Rax’s friends, isn’t she?”

Jenni nodded, hung her head, and coughed again.  “Yeah.  I guess.”

Tony stared off into the forest.  “He’s a piece of work, too.  Most of them are.  How’d you get mixed up with that bunch.  Your sister?”

Jenni laughed, but it sounded more like a hoarse bark.  “As if!  My friend Izzy wanted to go to their ‘swimming party.’  How’d you end up here if you don’t like Rax and the rest?”

“My girlfriend wanted to come.  She likes their dope.”

“And you?”

“I can take it or leave it.”

“Which you did… I mean…  You and Angelique left.  Why’d you come back?”

Tony Frost smiled, and his violet eyes sparkled as the sun dipped below the trees.  “And let assholes like Rax chase me from my own land?  No fucking way.”

“So, where’s Angelique?”  Jenni remembered the Goth girl’s jealous glances and looked around, but saw no sign of her.

“I took her home.  We’ll catch up later.”  He offered Jen a hand up.  “C’mon, I’ll take you home, too.”

“What about my friend, Izzy?”

“We can look for her on the way, if you want.”

Jenni nodded and took his hand—one of the warm, strong hands that had saved her from the water—saved her from the witch—and from her sister’s “friends.”

“Hey,” she blurted, as she put her clothes and flops back on, “would you do something for me?”

He glanced sideways at her.  “Depends.”

“If we find Bobby before we find my friend… Don’t freak out when I kick him in the nuts.”

Tony laughed.  “No problem.”

They stood silently while Jenni adjusted her clothing.  Then, Tony said:

“Maybe I’ll come to the museum and draw you sometime.  I’m not going back to the Art Institute until the fall.  I could use the practice.”

“So, you’re an artist?”

“I’m trying.”

“Aren’t we all?”  She glanced shyly at him out of the corner of her eye.  “You any good?”

“I guess you’ll find out.”

She smiled and took his hand, and he led them out of the darkening forest.


About “The Witchpool”

If you’ve read any of these “About the Story” sections from the Frost Harrow Halloween series, you know that they often start off with me saying to my wife: “I’m not sure what I should do for the Halloween story this year…” and then she replies with something that sparks my creative juices.  And a short time later, I have a story.

Well, that happened again this year (2023).  This time, Kiff said:

“What about Jenni?  Have you done a story with her?”

And of course, I hadn’t, which got my gears spinning.

Kiff then outlined an idea she’d had about cannibal ghosts—a really good idea that I will almost certainly write someday.

But by then, that initial nudge had also sparked two other stories in my head.  It got me thinking about how Tony and Jenni had first met, what that might have been like, and where it might have happened.  One of those ideas, which I probably will also write at some point—and which is foreshadowed at the end of this tale—involved life drawing classes.

The other was the swimming hole story that became “The Witchpool.”

What tilted me in favor of this tale, over the other two, had nothing to do with Frost Harrow—and yet, in a way, it had everything to do with Frost Harrow

On Monday, the 16th of October 2023, Kathryn Leigh Scott, Maggie/Josette of Dark Shadows fame, announced that at the end of the previous week, her dear friend Lara Parker had died.  On Dark Shadows, Lara played Angelique—quite possibly the best fictional witch of all time.

The death of Ms. Parker, one of my favorites on the show, tilted my decision to the “witch in the water” idea that had popped into my head.  The title, “Witchpool” quickly followed—and I remain amazed that it hasn’t been used by a book, movie, or TV franchise previously.  (So far as I know.)

So, this is the story of how Tony and Jenni first met.

Tony’s girlfriend, Angelique Adams, is not the titular witch in this story, but she is named for Lara Parker’s famous character.  Thanks for everything, Lara.  As a key part of Dark Shadows, you helped shape my life and work.  And as a gorgeous woman, you taught my young self that sexy and scary could be in the same package.  (A lesson later, er… hammered home by certain stars of Hammer films.)

And the Adams is for the Addams Family, of course—but with a less eccentric spelling.

There are other tribute names in this story, as usual.  And a few characters who appear here are also in my story bible for Frost Harow, either for filling in backstory or coming up in future tales (or both).

Bobby Farmakis is named for someone I knew in high school, a really nice guy and purveyor of “the best stuff,” whom I heard died recently.  R.I.P., my friend.  Willy “Weasel” Karlen is obviously named for John Karlen who played Willie Loomis on Dark Shadows.

And Jenni, in case I didn’t mention it, is… um… modeled after a couple of women I drew and/or painted and/or photographed during my long (and ongoing) career as an artist.  Both women were very sweet, and they obviously left a strong, favorable impression.  Models who show up on time, do what’s asked, and will pose for even an impoverished art student are a treasure.

Thanks, ladies!

I do a lot of my art on computers nowadays, but I do miss those days at art school and the times when I used to have models posing in my studio.

Maybe I’ll have time for more life drawing in the years to come.

Who knows what the future may bring?

In any case…

Happy Halloween, 2023!

—Steve Sullivan

19 October 2023

 Read the FREE Frost Harrow Halloween stories:
The Weeping Ghost” (2012), “A Trace of Violet” (2013), “Lunchroom Zombies” (2014), “Omens & Visitations” (2015), “Fata Morgana” (2016), “At the Appointed Hour” (2017), “Devil’s Lake” (2018), “A Walk on Witches’ Hill” (2019), “The Beast of Bay Road” (2020), “Cat Burglars” (2021), “Lost River Horse” (2022)

WITCHPOOL mages created by SDS with AI tools.