The Mystery of the Crimson Ghost by Phyllis A Whitney – 1969

I could easily lie and say that I remember all about this novel, but the truth is the only thing I know about The Mystery of the Crimson Ghost is that I read it as a child.

This was more than likely the first novel I ever read,  probably when I was no older than seven or eight. In fact, my continued fascination with those dark corners of the human condition may stem quite directly from this children’s story from the sixties, about a girl, a horse, and a mysterious red light.

I had to do a little investigation to even come up with the details of the story… but as soon as I saw the cover online, I knew that was the book I had been looking for. It’s strange the way the mind works sometimes.

Even reading the synopsis of the story doesn’t toll any bells, so this is an odd post in that it is more about clutching on to a vague memory that barely even exists anymore, rather than recalling a story I actually enjoyed. Hell, maybe The Mystery of the Crimson Ghost was complete rubbish and I’ve blocked it from my mind.