Storybrooke Maine Novels & Stories

“So, where is it you’re living again? Vermont? Rhode Island?” “Maine. We live in Maine now.” “Right. I’ll be.” Silence. “Maple syrup and Stephen King—you mean that Maine?” Richard grinned. “That would be the one. Don’t forget the lobsters, though.” “Course not.” Another pause, then: “Ever seen him?” “What?” “Stephen King—ever seen him? Spotted him standing in line at the post office, or in Long John Silver’s or anywhere? You know.” “Not yet,” Richard chuckled. “I hear he’s starting to winter in warmer climes. Can’t do the snow and cold anymore. Or doesn’t want to, I suppose. Bones took a real pounding after that accident.”

Welcome to Elmwood, Maine Over 400 Years Later, America Racing across the pitch-black streets was Nathaniel Bristow. The moonlight was her friend, and speed was her ally. She would have appeared as a blur of red and white to the human eye, but she persisted in staying in the shadows. The slumbering beach town was gradually settling in for late-night supper and prime-time television. This was one of the factors that led Nate to settle in Elmwood, Maine. The area was secure, serene, and quiet. Or so it was believed. Vampires were unchecked in Elmwood. Three of them, at least, did.

Exiting the nearly one hundred- and fifty-year-old apartment building I live in, walking to the nearest Ferry pier five blocks away, I turned around and smiled, admiring its historical atheists and details in the golden afternoon autumn sunlight. Additionally, my smile is because I’m so thankful that I can afford to live in such a fabulous space here in Bar Harbor, a town located on Mt. Desert Island, which is just off of the coast of Maine. The three-story red brick building was originally a small shoe and leather factory and storefront, established in 1871. Blackwood Fine Leather & Footwear operated for over a decade as a shoe and leather goods factory before it was suddenly abandoned and

The new house was a sturdy two-story cabin on a small island off the coast of Maine, accessible only by boat and reachable only when the tides allowed. No neighbors for miles. No cell service. No past that could find them easily. For six months, it almost felt like they had won.

Or some other color found only in nature and bridesmaid’s dresses. Hannah didn’t slow down as she passed the cheery, hand-painted sign welcoming her to Blueberry Cove, Maine. Chartered in 1715. Population 303. “Make that three hundred and four,” she murmured, still undecided on when she was going to share that little tidbit with the rest of her family.

he said matter-of-factly. "Then where am I?" She mouthed slowly, "and why did you take me?" She tried to ask. "You are at Castle Free Sky. We are nestled on the very northern tip of Free Sky Cliff on the ocean shore of Maine. We are not on any maps or GPS systems as any more than a few coordinates. Built almost completely invisible to anyone who is not looking for it specifically," he told her proudly, most of it was true, anyways.

I ask as my stomach growls when walking by a bakery wafting out the smells of fresh bread. Huxley nods. "I'm starving, but I'm not eating bread if that's what you're thinking. I need meat." "Okay, let's eat on the deck at the Sea Dog Brewing Company." They have amazing seafood and you can't visit Maine without eating lobster. This restaurant has been here since I was in high school. It's good if people keeping coming back for years. The last time I ate here they had this amazing peanut butter pie for dessert. Like your favorite home-cooked meal, I have memories of the candy bar topping and chocolate syrup drizzled over top. I've never been a girl to turn away chocolate.