Excerpt from “Chapter Four: Amongst The Ominous Trees of Drumheller The Castle Sits”

Haunted Nights at Drumheller Castle: Ethereal Quandary: A St. Charles Tall Tale by Faly Colaizzi

Excerpt from “Chapter Four: Amongst The Ominous Trees of Drumheller The Castle Sits”:

As he got closer to the stone structure with Romanesque
architecture, Jake pictured the 360-degree view of
Drumheller Castle. He felt a sensation of floating, as if his
legs were flying while he was running toward the castle. After Jake
imagined the exterior of the castle, thoughts of Mrs. Winston flashed
in his mind.

He approached the grandiose sloping front lawn. The castle
stood in solitude. Even though it had been three years since Wiggins
had died and Vampire Pierce Vaya had been swallowed completely by
Dead Man’s Tree, the rumor of the haunted grounds kept many
townsfolk away; no one but Jake and his friends were brave enough
to take the chance of risking their lives for a peek around the fortress.
After word had gotten out about the missing-persons cases and the
murders at the hand of Wiggins, Drumheller Castle had never even
needed to be boarded up or locked down for security. Jake’s unconditional
love for the castle and its history was the fortress’s only path
of redemption from its crumbling ruin.

Excerpt from “Chapter Three: The Empty Grounds Of Drumheller Cemetery”

Haunted Nights at Drumheller Castle: Ethereal Quandary: A St. Charles Tall Tale by Faly Colaizzi

Excerpt from “Chapter Three: The Empty Grounds Of Drumheller Cemetery”:

Days had passed since Mrs. Winston’s funeral. It was once
again a stormy morning in St. Charles, and the relentless
weather blew through continuously, rolling its way through
this sleepy town. The scenic rural land and fields surrounding St.
Charles stood stagnant as old rusted-out farming equipment sat as
permanent icons idling from another era. Through his open bedroom
window, Jake could smell the rain in the air as the Fox River raged,
splashing and striking parts of the North Avenue Bridge down Main
Street. The local geese scuttled to the west side of the banks looking
for some calm in the frenzied, chilly waters.

Jake was enamored with the history of his town of St. Charles.
Even though his memory and concentration were suffering under the
weight of his fatiguing symptoms, Jake never wavered in his proud
loyalty to his town. By 1896, so many years after the start of the
Industrial Revolution, the town of St. Charles had been home to more
than eight mills, foundries, and factories that held their own and provided
a large number of jobs in town for many years. Creameries produced
butter and cheese and worked closely with the local and
surrounding farmers on the rolling hills of Kane and Dupage Counties.
The farmers in turn had worked with none other than the town’s
most famous industrialist, Mr. Mark Drumheller, who had established
a more efficient method of farming and had bred large champion
Percheron draft horses from France that assisted the farmers
with their more sophisticated and advanced plowing systems.

Excerpt from “Chapter Two: A Funeral For An Unapproachable Ghost”

Haunted Nights at Drumheller Castle: Ethereal Quandary: A St. Charles Tall Tale by Faly Colaizzi

Excerpt from “Chapter Two: A Funeral For An Unapproachable Ghost”:

The foggy, rainy morning rolled into an even soggier midday
in St. Charles. The weather was unseasonably cool. It was
autumn…September 30, 1970…three Halloweens since Jake
and the gang had triumphed over the ghost of Mark Drumheller and
over Pierce Vaya, Dead Man’s Tree, and the wretched Old Man Wiggins.
That was also when Jake had met his deceased great-grandfather,
Prince Alfonso Borja, as the prince’s ghost had approached him
and told Jake the good news of their relationship. Jake and his family
were descendants of the Borjas from the real-life ghost tale “The
Prince of Casa Del Sueno,” and the prince’s immense fortune had
been bestowed onto Jake’s family.

Jake awoke on this rainy September morning from the night of
forewarning dreams, feeling the ache in his heart at knowing Mrs.
Winston’s funeral was on this day. In each minute that went by that
morning, he could hear the agonizing ticking sound of the clock in
the kitchen as time approached closer to the ceremony.

Excerpt from “Chapter One: Within A Mind That Prattles”

Haunted Nights at Drumheller Castle: Ethereal Quandary: A St. Charles Tall Tale by Faly Colaizzi

Excerpt from “Chapter One: Within A Mind That Prattles”:

CRACK! The heavens split open with an explosive, thunderous
fury, and the punishing lightning lashed the
vaporous billowing clouds against the slow, whispering
sound of music. The electromagnetic field crackled as the air parted
and surged deafeningly across the surface of the planet. The ominous
yellow and gray clouds rotated through the sky as they bridged the
gap between heaven and earth.

Ripped out of the echoing void, plummeting, hurtling, and
bounding toward earth in riveting turbulence…he falls, witnessed
only by one observer…a teenage boy. His screams are forced back by
the extraordinary velocity and wind shears as he twists and tumbles
toward the ground.

Excerpt from “Preface”

Haunted Nights at Drumheller Castle: Ethereal Quandary: A St. Charles Tall Tale by Faly Colaizzi

Excerpt from “Preface”:

When author Faly (Burmeister) Colaizzi set out to write her Drumheller
Castle series, she never realized her story would have evolved (from fact to
fiction) from a real life story about her family history from such a long time
ago. On her mother’s side the author is a descendent of the infamous papal
Borgia (Borja) family that had originated in Spain (speculated of Sephardic
Jewish ancestry, converting to Christianity) and later established roots in
Italy. The scandalous Borgia’s, known for their ruthless treachery, produced
popes, cardinals and dukes of the Roman Catholic church. The family grew
into great power over the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries with their corrupt
ecclesiastical and political affairs, grasping total control of the Vatican. The
author wanted her readers to understand that the only Borgia (Borja) she
ever knew was her kind and charismatic grandfather Alfonso Borja. She
wrote the ‘very fiction’ cornerstone tale “The Prince of Casa Del Sueno” in
his honor.