My husband and I finally moved into Black Wood House two weeks ago, so it’s time for the very first update! I hope you’re as excited to start this journey as we are!
Let’s start with the not-so-good bits: We had a bit of a hard time moving our furniture in due to the many holes in the yard (thanks, echidnas!). And unfortunately, the kitchen needs more work than what we anticipated (the kettle works at least!). We’re looking at a major kitchen overhaul, so we’ve been a bit naughty and living off Chinese takeaway since. (Gah, I hope my Pilates instructor isn’t reading this!)
Joe’s been dealing with the electrical and plumbing details (yawn!). So if you want updates about all the really boring stuff, you won’t find them here. (Who cares about gutters and roofing when there are gorgeous Tiffany chandeliers to obsess over!)
Speaking of gorgeous things! I had the greatest time with the folks down at Retro Renovations. If you’re looking at re-painting your own home, check these guys out. (This is not a paid promo!) They helped me make my own custom color: a beautiful pure green I’m calling Avocado Goodness! (Photos below.) I can already see this all over the lounge room walls. (And I may have ordered the new kitchen appliances in the same custom color! Yikes! I hope Joe isn’t reading this, lol!)
We’ll be working on the hot water system this week, so yay for that. There’s way more work to be done, and it’s been a little bit tougher than we anticipated. But the house has been shut up and neglected ever since…well, I’m sure you know.
Check out the pics of Avocado Goodness and the matching custom kitchen appliances below.
And here’s a link to the stunning kitchenware:CreateYourOwnCustomKitchen.com
(No discount code, I’m afraid. But…maybe next time? @CreateYourOwnCustomKitchen Would LOVE to work with you guys!)
Take Care, Sladies and Gentlemen!
P.S.—Yes, I’m still working on my next book! It’s going soooooo well, and I cannot wait to share it!
I gulp my coffee and hate myself. This is Media Relations Sarah. She uses too many exclamation marks, is Enthusiastic about Everything!! and loves nothing more than whoring herself out for a discount code.
I hover the cursor over the post button, cringing as I proofread the update. I’ve had five hours’ sleep in two days. My eyes are sticky, and another headache worms its way into my skull.
I hit the post button before I change my mind. Then I lean back in my Gatsby chair and wince as it goes live. There. Done. People can stop asking me for updates now. I swear, every time I sip coffee in the work kitchen, Tim, the sports psych, hits me on the arm with a newspaper. “How’s those renovations going?”
“That’s right!” Emily pipes up. “You bought the Black Wood place,didn’t you?” Then she adds, “You don’t actually live there, do you, lovie?”
Well. Now I can finally dismiss them with “The details are on my website! You should check it out!”
Yes, Tim and Emily, go read my cheery post and my bullshit lies. I’ll let the abundance of exclamation marks hide the awful truth: The renovations have been a fucking nightmare.Everythingneeds fixing, replacing, unscrewing, remodeling,gutting.I’ve hired three contractors, and none of them showed up. We’re on our fourth now, and the price just keeps adding up. Turns out, even moving a goddamn light switch will cost a grand.
I sip my sugarless coffee and check the time. 1:50p.m.Ten minutes until my next client. I refresh the page, and to my surprise, someone’s already commented on my post. I scan the words, and my throat tightens in fear.
You are an absolute insult to the memory of the poor Campbells. I think it’s disgusting that you bought their house, and even more sickening that you clearly hope to profit on it.
I’m so stunned my mouth falls open. Joe warned me that I might get some crackpots, considering how infamous the house is. It’s been on the news for forty years, and the interest hasn’t subsided. And even Joe admitted we’d need as much publicity as possible to sell the damn thing.
But I honestly wasn’t expecting the hate so quickly. So viciously.
Actually, I wasn’t really expecting it at all.
I hit the delete button, and the message vanishes, but my uneasiness remains. God, I hope nobody saw it. If it’s going to be like this, I might have to disable comments, and I hate doing that. I love the little likes, heart emojis, and congratulations. I feed off that puerile bullshit. Without it, I starve.
My head’s in my hands when another comment fills the screen.Slowly, I raise my head and read it. It’s just one word, but it makes my blood freeze. No, no, no.
Lizzy.
I lunge for the keyboard and smash the delete button. When it’s gone, I lean back in my chair, guts twisting. Did anyone see it? Lizzy. Lizzy. My sister’s face rushes to my mind, and I try in vain to push it out.
There are people from my hometown who know the story. All of it. And even after all these years, the thought still makes my breath catch in my throat. For years and years I’ve run and run, but never without darting panicked glances over my shoulder. And it’s so much worse now because I’ve never had more to lose. I’ve got a steady job, hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers, and all my money tied up in a murder house that I won’t be able to sell if my reputation’s smeared.
I’ve seen it before. Last year, an author with three bestsellers lost her contract, her sponsorships, and shortly thereafter her house all because an unfortunate video surfaced. Thirty-four seconds of her in a messy college dorm, dancing drunkenly and groping her boyfriend.
She issued two lengthy apologies, but nothing stopped the hate train. Nothing much does.
There are no drunken college videos of me. I never went to uni despite what my CV says. But there’s something much worse out there. Someone knows, and if they tell anyone, I’ll lose my job and my reputation, and I’ll be stuck with a murder house I can’t get rid of.
If people find out what happened to my sister, I will lose it all.
