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🌟 Dive into an immersive tale of mystery and supernatural intrigue with Hadley Thorne's "The Solstice Night." 🌙✨

The morning sun shone brilliantly over the Pacific as the crystal blue-green waters lapped at the shores of the tropical paradise. A gentle breeze blew in from the water, rustling palm fronds and hibiscus. The fresh sea air combined with the fragrant scent of the dozens of flowering blooms of the exotic flora created a fragrance as exotic as anything a French perfumer could imagine. A red-haired young woman stood on the beach staring at the sand in confusion as countless dark shadows passed over.

Confused, the girl shielded her eyes as she looked up into the sky. In the place of the brilliant sun, a blood-red moon now hung in the darkness as daylight faded. Lightning flashed on the distant horizon as a storm cloud gathered. There, she watched as a fleet of great warships was

engulfed in the maelstrom of the storm, and the perfect day turned to chaos.

“There's a storm coming, Vivi…” The familiar voice of her brother startled her, saying, "Get somewhere safe.".

A chill wind blew into her bedroom, blowing through the open window as Vivian Rose woke. She knew solstice night was the longest night of the year. But it was more than just that… She had heard her Mamaw talk about how the veil between the living and the dead was thin.

While reaching for the lamp, Vivi trembled under the moon's light. There was now so little heat in the room that her breath was visible.

Slipping a crochet blanket over her bare shoulders, she realized that the winter was officially here. The mattress on the other side of her double bed shifted as someone sat on the bed, startling her. Reaching around the nightstand for her glasses, she narrowed her eyes.

Her brother's familiar voice echoed on the bridge of her nose. "Vivi..." he croaked, sounding hoarse, raspy, and raw.

“Jake?” Vivi asked, startled as she searched for a lamp in the darkness. But Jake had left for duty two months ago, so what kind of sense did that make?

Later, she would recall wondering two things at that moment. She wondered why her mother was frying bacon at 3 a.m. and if someone had set their house on fire since the smoky smell of charred wood stifled the lingering scent of the flowers she had dreamed about. Twisting the lamp's key-shaped light switch, she chased the darkness back into the shadows with a loud click.

As she yawned, Vivian rubbed the sleep from her gold hazel eyes before asking her brother what had caused the Army to send him home. When her eyes finally focused, she could only scream.

On the edge of her bed, she found what remained of her brother, Jake. His once twinkling blue eyes were now milky white—at least one was. One of his eyes was oozing out of its socket down the side of his once handsome face. His black hair, which she envied, was now burnt in patches; the skin beneath blistered, weeping some unknown substance. There were places on his flight suit where smoke was still smoldering, and the clothing burned to ash.

As the golden rays of the Texas morning sun streamed through her window, Vivian "Vivi" Rose woke screaming. It was the morning of December 7, 1941 - the day her older brother, Pilot Jacob "Jake" Rose, lost his life at Pearl Harbor.

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