Status Updates From Echoes of the Oval Portrait
Echoes of the Oval Portrait by
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Kisha Reinmiller
is 42% done
Book 2 in the Midnight Dreary series and not captivating me quite as much.
Good, but there is the same push pull.
— Dec 19, 2025 03:24PM
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Good, but there is the same push pull.
Kisha Reinmiller
is 15% done
Short chapters, small town, spooky mansion? I assume I’ll be done by tomorrow 🤩
— Dec 17, 2025 02:36PM
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Susan Stradiotto
is 51% done
Love this line: "The longer he studied the portrait, the more it felt as if she were fading, becoming an object on a canvas to be analyzed rather than his flesh-and-blood wife."
— Sep 08, 2025 04:33AM
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Susan Stradiotto
is 43% done
“Hello? Is someone up there?”
No answer.
Cold air seeped down from the studio, prickling over her skin.
It’s not heated up there, she reminded herself, waiting a moment, listening for sounds of movement.
She closed the door and ran back to her room like someone was chasing her. She...crawled into her bed, pulling the covers tight around herself.
Glancing at the portrait, she hissed, “Was that you? Knock it off.”
— Sep 07, 2025 10:21AM
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No answer.
Cold air seeped down from the studio, prickling over her skin.
It’s not heated up there, she reminded herself, waiting a moment, listening for sounds of movement.
She closed the door and ran back to her room like someone was chasing her. She...crawled into her bed, pulling the covers tight around herself.
Glancing at the portrait, she hissed, “Was that you? Knock it off.”
Susan Stradiotto
is 12% done
Love this gothic imagery:
Paintings lined the high walls of the second floor, fitting together like puzzle pieces in golden arabesque frames. Stern faces with hands folded in laps bumped against swirling landscapes and modern pieces with no rhyme or reason. Dozens of paintings, maybe more. Nora gaped at them. The quantity alone was stunning, the quality even more so.
— Sep 04, 2025 07:00PM
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Paintings lined the high walls of the second floor, fitting together like puzzle pieces in golden arabesque frames. Stern faces with hands folded in laps bumped against swirling landscapes and modern pieces with no rhyme or reason. Dozens of paintings, maybe more. Nora gaped at them. The quantity alone was stunning, the quality even more so.



