In the fading grandeur of 1924 Eureka Springs, three women discover that some places remember everything. The Eclipse Hotel sits abandoned on an Arkansas hillside, its Victorian splendor crumbling into the mist-shrouded Ozarks. Once a haven for those seeking healing waters, it now stands silent-waiting. Clara arrives with paint-stained fingers and a heart shattered by loss, hoping art will fill the void grief carved. Beatrice brings her sharp intellect and skeptical mind, fleeing a future mapped by others. Lila, descendant of Quapaw ancestors, follows whispers only she can hear, drawn by blood and belonging to land that remembers her people. They expect quiet. Solitude. A chance to heal. Instead, they find Michael-the stonemason whose hands built these walls and whose death is trapped in every brick. Theodora-the nurse still tending patients decades cold. Soldiers replaying their final moments. Baker Sanitorium patients wandering halls that once promised cure. And beneath it all, something ancient awakens in the limestone, conducting malevolence through porous stone like a sinister heartbeat. The haunting begins subtly. Whispers in empty conservatories. Shadows that move wrong. The metallic tang of spring water where none should flow. October dusk brings apparitions, each sunset peeling back the veil between worlds. The girls dismiss coincidence, rationalize the impossible-until denial becomes more dangerous than acceptance. As psychological terror escalates, the hotel's rules become clear: limestone traps spirits, dusk releases them, and the living must witness what the dead can never finish. Clara's artistic vision shows her too much. Beatrice's logic crumbles against impossible truths. Lila's heritage makes her bridge and target, her ancestors' transformation lore the key to understanding what the hotel truly is. The girls' personal wounds mirror the ghosts' tragedies. Clara's unprocessed grief resonates with Theodora's failure to save. Beatrice's need for control shatters against Michael's helpless death. Lila carries generational trauma the land itself echoes. To survive, they must do what the spirits could not: face their pain, accept their losses, and choose to move forward. But survival has a price. The hotel feeds on doubt, gaslights reality, and uses their vulnerabilities as weapons. Every revelation costs. Every truth demands sacrifice. And the deeper they go into the Eclipse's limestone heart, the harder it becomes to distinguish between haunting and haunted, between rescuer and victim. Perfect for readers who crave: Atmospheric ghost stories rich in historical detail Psychological horror that lingers long after the final page Complex female characters facing supernatural and internal demons Southern Gothic settings dripping with decay and beauty Indigenous folklore woven respectfully into haunting narratives Low-gore, high-dread terror that builds to devastating climax Ambiguous endings that trust readers to feel the lingering chill From the misty Ozark hills to the Victorian hallways where the dead still walk, "Eternal Echoes at the Eclipse" delivers sophisticated horror for readers who understand that the most terrifying hauntings are the ones we carry within ourselves. Some wounds never heal. Some hotels never forget. And some echoes are eternal. A masterful debut blending the atmospheric dread of Shirley Jackson with the cultural depth of Silvia Moreno-Garcia, perfect for fans of THE LITTLE STRANGER, MEXICAN GOTHIC, and classic ghost fiction reimagined for modern audiences.