When Emily’s mother sends her to Ashley Hall School—a prestigious boarding school for girls—she expects strict teachers, new friends, and the usual struggles of fitting in. What she doesn’t expect is Gia: a witchy classmate obsessed with Voodoo, Ouija boards, and the thrill of the unknown.
On a reckless dare, Emily and Gia break into a condemned building hidden on campus. Among the dust and shadows, they discover a video cassette stuffed inside an old heating vent. The footage reveals a shocking truth: forty years earlier, a group of students deliberately cursed Ashley Hall… and invited something dark to linger.
What begins as a game soon awakens a spirit tied to Emily’s own buried past. A séance meant for fun spirals into terror as the girls confront a force that refuses to stay forgotten.
Blending the atmosphere of gothic ghost stories with a chilling reimagining of Frankenstein, The Haunting of Ashley Hall School is a coming-of-age horror tale about secrets, memory, and the price of playing with the supernatural.
Perfect for fans of haunted school settings, dark academia, and anyone who loves being deliciously scared.
Jim D’Andrea is a writer based in Charleston, South Carolina, where he lives in a 300-year-old gently haunted house with two cats for protection. Originally from New England and the youngest of five, Jim graduated from Fairfield University before joining the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, running a clinic for the homeless in San Francisco. He later worked as a repo man in New Orleans before breaking into film production, contributing to projects like Kingpin, The Ringer, and Fever Pitch.
A self-taught screenwriter, he earned representation from WME and Paradigm for his low-brow comedy scripts before turning to horror fiction.
His debut novel, The Haunting of Ashley Hall School, blends adult and YA gothic horror. Influenced by Tales from the Crypt, The Twilight Zone, and authors like Bukowski and Kafka, Jim’s work reflects a love for dark storytelling. He never works on Halloween and rarely does on other days either.
My daddy's bigger than yours.
We visit him in prison sometimes ...
He's more bark than bite.
This kid's going places.
Legit co-conspirator whenever Dad says no.