The Challenge at the Carmichael Mansion

By Leila Sanchez

Leila Sanchez's debut novel, "The Challenge at the Carmichael Mansion", is a riveting horror tale that explores the lengths a mother will go to secure her son's future. When Melissa Foster, a single mother on the brink of homelessness, is presented with an offer she can't refuse, she embarks on a perilous 24-hour challenge in the abandoned Carmichael Mansion to win a staggering $20 million.

Melissa, a well-drawn, realistic protagonist, quickly realizes the mansion harbors secrets far more ominous than she could have ever imagined. As she navigates through an escalating series of terrifying events, she must decipher cryptic warnings and confront the lurking horrors within the mansion's haunted walls.

This compelling horror story is for fans of the genre who appreciate a strong, relatable, and Black female protagonist. At its core, "The Challenge at the Carmichael Mansion" is a story of maternal love, courage, and the ultimate sacrifice to secure a better life for her child.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350919585

Book preview

Chapter 1

Client (Cindy Wilkins) – Sent 12:35pm

I’m sorry Ms. Foster, but I won’t be able to make it our appointment today. If it’s possible, I’d like to reschedule for another time.

Melissa grunted in frustration as she read her client’s text before tossing her phone on to the table.

That is so fucking rude, she mumbled. Her appointment with her client was supposed to be at noon, the time the client had frequently insisted upon, and she had even decided to forsake her chance to eat to make it to this appointment.

Would you like a refill, ma’am? Melissa looked up at the Diner waitress, who was motioning towards her empty soda cup and gave her a tired smile.

Yes, please. I’d also like to order now if that’s all right?

The waitress returned her smile and pulled out her notepad and pen, Tired of waiting for your friend?

Melissa snorted, Client canceled nearly 40 minutes after the start of her appointment.

The waitress winced, Sorry to hear that. What can I get you?

Bacon Cheeseburger and fries, please.

The waitress wrote her order down and grabbed the menu and cup, I’ll be right back with your drink, before leaving to put in Melissa’s order.

Melissa watched the waitress walk away before burying her face in her hands and groaned. She needs to text the client back. As much as she would like to tell Ms. Wilkins to go fuck herself, to refuse to do any business with her because of how unprofessional and rude she was, but Melissa knows she can’t. She needs the money. The Chronicle pays her well, but after bills and the deposit into her and Joe’s joint account for Nicky, there’s barely enough money for an SD card, much less a new lens or to take Nicky out for a fun activity. And Ms. Wilkins seems well-connected enough that being recommended by her could potentially jumpstart her dream photography business.

Melissa startled and looked up as the waitress puts down her refilled cup. She muttered a quiet thank you as the waitress leaves again then let out another quiet groan, returning to her earlier position.

She’ll text Ms. Wilkins back after she eats.

A scratching sound draws her attention to the other side of her booth. She looked up and blinked in confusion.

Um, can I help you?

The man sitting in the booth across from her is wearing a beige cowboy hat and a smile that Melissa thinks is supposed to be comforting, but all it did was make her uneasy. He also wore a suit that matched his Stetson and that shoestring tie that cowboys (or cowboy ‘enthusiasts’) wore. He stared silently at her, making her feel even more uncomfortable.

Can I help you? Melissa’s hands drop down onto the table, her left hand moving to cover the silverware set she had fidgeted with until it opened while she waited for her client.

How are you doing today, Ms. Foster? She’s kind of disappointed that Stetson here has a similar accent to her, and not one from like, Texas, or something. That would at least explain why he’s dressed like an off-brand Doug Dimmadome1.

She blindly tried to grip her