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Haggard House is not What it Appears
The Story
The village of Nomaton. 1859. After a solitary life within the dank walls of Haggard House, Adam, kept back until the age of eleven, is finally allowed to attend the village school. There he meets bright-eyed, bright-spirited Penny; and his once solitary life takes a turn. Frightened of the consequences, should his zealot mother discover the match, Adam builds another Haggard House—only this one within his mind—and keeps the memories of Penny there, safe from his mother and safe from himself.
Yet things begin to unravel when Adam’s outraged mother discovers their secret friendship and forbids them to associate. Years pass, and Adam, restless and heartsore, ventures from home to work his way west. As he meets hard men of the world for the first time, his promise to his mother to “keep to the straight and narrow” begins to falter.
When finally he returns home, Adam can no longer restrain himself from seeing Penny. But the training and influence of his mother returns, and he is forced to face the house within his mind, a house that has been steadily decaying—a house ready to collapse at any moment.
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Reader Reviews
“Ms. Rhoads's novel HAGGARD HOUSE is compulsively readable, and satisfying on every level. I am thoroughly enjoying it, and I bet you will, too.”
―Richard Bausch, PEN/Malamud & REA Award-winning short story writer & novelist
“I loved it! I was really invested. The suspense towards the end was so exciting. This needs to be a movie.”
― Kayoko H.
Readers have also described this novel as:
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Sinister
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Coming-of-age
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A story of religious zealotry
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Having Gothic elements
How it Works
The entire, serialized novel is free! Two chapters are published per week. Take a peek at the progress bar below to get an idea of how much of the series has already been published—meaning you can read that much right away!
Limited Time
Haggard House will only be available as a free serial until June 1st, 2025. After that, the novel will be available for purchase. So get it free now while you can!
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About the Author
Elisabeth Rhoads is the author of Haggard House and numerous short stories. She is the Vice-President on the board of the California Writers Club, Orange County branch. Since 2021, she has been a volunteer juror for the Scholastic Writing Awards.
Read a Sample
Chapter 1
In the Beginning
The Narrative of Adam Bolton
I, Adam, was formed in the dust of an attic, and from thence I emerged into the world. On this day, eleven years after that inauspicious nativity, a sharp wind gnashed at the hardened crust of snow upon the ground and grated against the edges of my bleak house. I waved at Mother, waiting in the gaping doorway. She stood at the threshold, as if to step beyond it would cause the pillar of her body to crumble into grains of salt, whipping in the wind. The intensity of her sharp, black eyes forced mine to the path.
“Keep to the straight and narrow,” she called.
The door suddenly shut upon her white house cap and stiff, black gown, and I was left in the swirling snow. Under my arm were gathered my blue-backed speller, Murray’s English Reader, and Daboll’s Arithmetic. Pulling my goatskin coat tighter about me and tucking both hands, together with my cambric lunch rag, behind my back, I pressed forward down the long wagon-track for my two mile trek. As I entered the safety of the forest surrounding the little clearing, the wind died away; and the snow, which had been boot deep, thinned to a fine, sugary powdering.
The trees began to thin out somewhat and then opened onto a vast white meadow, Whittemore’s Prairie. Having left the protection of the trees, the grating wind returned, its force gaining in fury as I followed the faint tracks made by Pa’s Belgian and heavy cart. The snow whirled upwards, and tiny grains of it mercilessly scraped my face, making my cheeks burn red. I pulled my muskrat cap further down my forehead and bowed my head into the wind.
The first building I reached was McNeil School, so named for Farmer McNeil, who had donated a corner of his field for the purpose. This was the first year that the village of Nomaton had a proper schoolhouse, and now that there was a male teacher who would spend time in religious instruction, I was, at eleven years, for the first time, allowed to attend.
As I neared, my belly churned when I realized that other children had already arrived. Certainly, I knew of the other village children. I had seen them on my way to Pa’s shop at the far edge of town or at church service sitting behind me in the pews. However, I had little experience with them up close, and I was at once anxious to be taken notice of and anxious to be disregarded. It was quarter of an hour before school, yet already Farmer McNeil’s children romped in the snow, and a pair of older boys loafed near the woodshed. In order to avoid an encounter with either, I kept my eyes trained on the building ahead.
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