Mount Peter Executive Manager Pens Spooky Romance

Mount Peter Executive Manager Pens Spooky Romance

By day during the snowy season, Amy Sampson-Cutler makes sure visitors to Mount Peter, New York’s family mountain, enjoy an exhilarating time in the winter air. But in a parallel life, she’s giving people thrills and chills in another way – as the author of the ghostly romance novel A Shadow of Love.

The story is about a woman named Annabelle who moves into an 1860’s farmhouse that is haunted by the ghost of Christian, a poet who took his own life a century earlier. Christian tries to scare her away, but they soon fall in love. Time is short, however. His spirit has been magically cursed to be earthbound for exactly one century, and time is almost up.

“It is a story of unrequited love, and how people will go through crazy lengths for each other,” Sampson-Cutler said. “This is also a story about survival, and friendship, and magic, and the absolute power that we all have within ourselves to overcome anything.”

Sampson-Cutler is the executive manager of Mount Peter, a popular spot for skiers, riders and snow tubers. She is also a published author of short stories and poems. A Shadow of Love is her first novel. While its official publication date is May 5, the paperback page-turner is on sale in the Mount Peter retail shop for anyone looking for a gripping read to relax with after an active day in the fresh air. It can also be preordered at www.AmysHippieHut.com through the publishing house Black Rose Writing.

Sampson-Cutler grew up at Mount Peter “skiing in the winter and dreaming up stories in the summer,” she says on her website. She held various jobs at Mount Peter from when she was a teenager, and began working there full-time in 2004. On the writing side, she earned her master’s degree in creative writing from Goddard College. Spinning tales of suspense, horror and science fiction – plus some poetry – she has published works in journals including Tales to Terrify, Wow! Women on Writing, the Pitkin Review, Wellness Universe and Elephant Journal.

She sets modest writing goals for herself during the winter, when Mount Peter is open and she’s ensuring that the winter-loving families have a great time on the slopes. The words really start flowing when the snow melts.

The idea for A Shadow of Love was inspired by Sampson-Cutler’s parents’ farmhouse, where she “spent many spooked nights there growing up. Every day writing this story, I got to roam through my parents’ house in my mind.” It also helped her keep alive memories of the barn, which was torn down shortly before she finished writing the novel.

The story borne from the childhood nostalgia surprised even Sampson-Cutler, who generally writes straight horror and suspense.

“I have no idea how I ended up writing a love story,” she said. “Maybe some past resident of my parents’ house whispered it in my ear when I was sleeping.”

About Mount Peter
Mount Peter is located at 51 Old Mount Peter Road in Warwick, New York. Visitors may check the latest trail openings and conditions by calling the Mount Peter Snow Phone at (845) 986-4992. Tickets may be purchased in advance at www.mtpeter.com to reserve a date. Also refer to the website for the snow report and live mountain webcam, as well as more information about the 2021-2022 season at Mount Peter.

“Light as a Feather” on Tales to Terrify Podcast

“Light as a Feather” on Tales to Terrify Podcast

Short horror fiction podcast Tales to Terrify features Amy S. Cutler’s poem, “Light as a Feather”.

Light as a Feather
by Amy S Cutler

I didn’t mean to kill him
out on this lonely road,
where I’ve waited for decades
to find my way back home.

I hide upon the daytime,
I walk the road at night.
My death replays at sundown
but I never see the light.

He came along with friends-
a birthday celebration,
not knowing that their game
was a powerful incantation.

Just children on their bicycles
playing a child’s game,
Light as a feather, stiff as a board,
now they’ll never be the same.

I was pulled into his body
when he began to rise,
I screamed right though his mouth,
as I was trapped inside.

He struggled when we parted,
blood pouring from his nose.
I tried to hang on to his life
I tore at his birthday clothes.

I didn’t mean to kill him,
now he’s as lost as I.
No light came for him either,
as he didn’t want to die.

A ghost that kills the living
will never find the light,
and as he walks beside me,
he calls upon the night.

Posters scattered all about
saying have you seen my boy,
it was his life, and his friends,
that I alone destroyed.

This road is filled with sadness,
and so many have been lost.
Before you play games with the dead,
you should really know the cost.

How Can I Write

How Can I Write

How can I write today?

I write scary stories, but nothing is more frightening than what is happening in our country right at this moment. We thought the COVID virus was scary – but at least with the virus, it attacks us equally. It attacks us equally, but we may not survive it equally.

How can I write today?

To sit down in the safety of my home with the intention of being entertaining, when people outside don’t want entertainment. They want to feel safe. They want to be able to drive in their cars or go for a jog or even yes, even make a mistake, without feeling afraid for their lives.

How can I write today?

I feel helpless. We can protest and riot and scream and cry, we can call officials and beg for justice, we can hold hands or point fingers, we can sit in a silent prayer. But the record just spins around and around, one segment must be scratched, because no matter how beautiful the music is, the skip, the screech, always comes back around. You can repair and you can rebuild, but damage is damage. You can throw it away and buy a new record but sooner or later, that one will be damaged as well. Nothing remains unscathed.

How can I write today?

Writing – my kind of writing – won’t keep anyone safe. It won’t feed the hungry or shelter the homeless. It won’t heal anyone who is hurting. It won’t solve a damn problem. But it is the only tool in my arsenal. It is the only way for me to say: I hear you. I hurt for you. I am sorry the record is broken, I am sorry the beautiful sounds continue to be interrupted with fear, with horror, with sadness.

How can I write today?

How can I not.