Thomas Hale isn’t one for drama. His life’s pretty simple: wake up, go to work, eat instant noodles, and take his dog Bramble out for a walk every night at exactly 2:13 a.m. But ever since he moved into his late grandmother’s old house in Gravenmoor, that nightly walk has started to feel... off.

Streetlights flicker out as they pass. Shadows trail behind them even when no one’s there. Bramble barks at trees—and sometimes, the trees bark back. Thomas figures it’s just stress. That is, until a strange woman named Eliza shows up claiming to be a “guardian of the boundary” and tells him he’s accidentally cracked open a door between the human world and things that were better left sleeping.

Now Thomas and Bramble are stuck dealing with a parade of supernatural weirdos: ghosts who overshare, demons addicted to espresso, and a mysterious entity that only shows up when Thomas is emotionally compromised. Somewhere in the chaos, they’ll have to uncover the dark secrets buried in Gravenmoor—and maybe the ones Thomas has been avoiding in himself.

Funny, creepy, and unexpectedly heartfelt, Walking with the Dog is a story about loneliness, friendship, and what happens when you take one too many late-night walks in a town full of secrets.



Hello this is the Author speaking :

So this novel is my first time writing this novel, if you guys have any feedback for this novel feel free to comment, and English is not my mother language so I'm sorry if the sentence or the paragraph is not fit at the word

Thomas froze mid-step. The bark had come from the woods—low, guttural, and wrong. Like someone had tried to imitate a dog but had never actually heard one.


Bramble stopped walking. His ears flattened. His tail tucked.


Thomas whispered, "That's not how barking works."


The fog thickened around them, curling like smoke from a dying fire. The trees ahead swayed gently, though there was no wind. Somewhere in the mist, twigs snapped.


Thomas tightened his grip on the leash. "Okay. We're leaving. Now."


A heavy thud echoed from the woods. Then another. Like footsteps. But too slow. Too deliberate.


Bramble growled, deep and steady. His body lowered into a defensive stance.


Thomas took a step back. "Nope. Nope nope nope."


A long, wet exhale drifted through the fog. It sounded like someone trying to breathe through a mouth full of mud.


Thomas turned around. "We're going home."


They walked fast. Not quite running, but close. Bramble kept looking over his shoulder. Thomas didn't dare to.


Now it sounded like claws on pavement. Following. Matching their pace.


Thomas broke into a jog. "I swear, if this is some kind of ghost dog, I'm suing somebody."


They reached the porch. Thomas fumbled with the keys.


The sound was right behind them now. Bramble barked—sharp, loud, furious.


Thomas yanked the door open and they rushed inside. He slammed it shut, locked it, bolted it, and leaned against it, panting.


Bramble stood in the hallway, staring at the door.


No footsteps. No breathing. No barking.


Just the soft hum of the fridge and Thomas's heart pounding like a drum solo.


He slid down to the floor. "I hate this town," he said again.


Bramble walked over, sat beside him, and licked his hand.


Thomas looked at him. "You're the only sane one here."


From somewhere upstairs, a floorboard creaked.


Chapter 3 - 3. The Sound that Barked Back