Flannan Isles Lighthouse Novels & Stories

Lena came with a first aid kit to dress Adrian’s wound. Meanwhile, Adrian said to Alan, “Fire a signal flare into the sky for assembly once every half an hour from now on, so our men lost on the island can follow the direction of the signal flare to assemble with us here as soon as possible. We’ll leave once everyone has gathered.” Alan nodded. It did not take long before a yellow signal flare was launched into the night sky. The signal was extremely bright, and one could see it at a glance. This particular flare was used to signal for assembly. In other words, everyone would assemble at the coordinates where the flare was launched.

Mara ran out first. The cold air cut into her lungs. Behind her she heard Lena and Jonas, her steps on the damp gravel path. The house remained open, the back door hit in the wind against the wall. The island was there. Not clear. Just as a dark shadow in the fog. But this time she was closer. Too close. As if it had not appeared in the sea, it had risen from the sea. The lighthouse lay a few hundred meters along the coast. The old wooden bridge, half

Jamie muttered, eyeing the hull warily. “It’ll get us there,” Crane said, checking the engine. “And that’s all we need.” The ferry set off across the choppy waters, the morning sun casting long shadows over the waves. The air grew colder as they approached the Isle of Ash, the faint hum of the key growing louder in Emma’s hands. The island loomed ahead, its jagged cliffs rising starkly against the horizon. Blackened trees dotted its surface, their skeletal branches reaching skyward like claws. “Charming,” Vivienne said dryly. “What’s the over-under on this place being haunted?”

She could make out a red and white lighthouse through the fog. Kaida studied the map again. The Meath Hotel, a park, and a public beach were within walking distance of the decks. Also a library, police station, the firehouse, post office, and courthouse. Nearly the entire length of the southern strip was private homes and subdivisions. The central and northern parts were shops and restaurants with a few offices intermingled. But the eastern tip of the island? Breathtaking. On one side of the bluffs was the Meath mansion, on the other the Galloway house, with a forest in between. As the highest point on the thirty-five square mile island, the area was the most private and, no doubt, had the b

“The salt-mist is thick, but there’s something else down there. A frequency I’ve never seen. It’s like the island is breathing.” Faith stood behind him, her silver eyes fixed on the fog. Through her bond with Killian, she could feel his heart beating fast. He was standing in the back of the ship with the forty sisters, his hand resting on his weapon. He was an Alpha in a place that didn't follow the rules of wolves, and it made his instincts scream. “There,” Faith pointed. The mist parted, revealing a bumpy rock of an island. In the center stood a massive, black lighthouse made of reinforced steel and glass. It didn't look like a normal building: it looked like a giant computer tower stickin

The light flickered. The creature’s eye widened. Decision slammed into her like the storm wind. “Tell me what to do,” she said. Alden gave a faint, sad smile. The beacon burst into steady brilliance. And the sea went still. For now. The Keeper’s Bargain The sea did not calm all at once. It recoiled. The colossal eye beneath the waves narrowed as the lighthouse beam burned steady and bright, no longer pulsing—no longer calling—but holding. Mara gripped the iron railing as the tower groaned beneath her feet. “What did I just do?”

They were stacking chairs when the messenger arrived from Ashmere. She was a girl not yet trained to speak nicely to houses. Her boots had eaten most of the island’s mud; her braid had learned to hold against wind that has opinions. She found Maera first with the instinct of a person who recognizes a woman who carries knives in the plain shape of her patience. “The light,” she said, gulping breath. “Old lighthouse. It burned red at noon. It hasn’t…since—” She gestured in a manner that suggested the moon’s decision to bleed was a town anecdote that had not kept its sense of humour.

A picture of the lighthouse from Katherine's dreams was now on the screen, and beside it was the history of it. This historic lighthouse was built in 1918 to help freighter ships reach the port town of Merytonburg safely. It is located on an island three miles from the Merytonbug Dock, and has been out of use since the late 1940's due to numerous mysterious accidents occurring on the island. The lighthouse is supposedly haunted by one of the lighthouse keepers, Ray Stalls-" Katherine's heart stopped as she read the name. Ray Stalls? But how...?