A 6 inch wide by 9 inch high (front cover) 300 dpi book cover with the title THRESHOLD and the author names PLATT & WRIGHT. There should be a print version to include the back cover, and e-book version of just the front.
The cover should be inspired by this passage:
SPOILERS AHEAD FOR READERS!
"The medallion was exactly where the voice said it would be.
It might have been her imagination, but Hazel swore it had a pulse: warm in her hand, warmer as she set it into the door’s hollow.
Emerald green bled through the pores. Wood seemed to shrink, and the door appeared to grant her permission. Hazel reached out to touch it. The wood felt soft as she pushed.
She managed to hold her gasp as she entered the cellar, but had to swallow hard. The basement was as large as the Manor would have suggested, but she was still surprised to see a giant fountain sitting in the center of the cavernous stone chamber.
Something about the fountain seemed terribly wrong.
Hazel approached the fountain and looked down. As her eyes adjusted to the room’s dim light enough to see that black was actually crimson, she tasted metal on her tongue and knew the liquid was blood.
She wanted to vomit. Hazel slapped her hand over her mouth and turned from the fountain, clutching her stomach as she bent over. She caught her breath, held it steady and turned back, leaning over, just above the bubbling broth. It was blood, no doubt. She would have run, if not for the light that froze her in its beauty.
She stared at the glowing square, peering into the blurred movement she could barely see on the other side. It seemed weak. As beautiful as it was, as if the light was dying to be brighter.
She stepped forward and heard her mother’s voice.
“Hazel … ”
“I’m here, Mom! What do I do? How do I get to you?”
“There is nothing to do, Hazel. Just step through the Threshold.”
There wasn’t a door. The rough almost rock like texture in front of the framing was only light and not rock at all.
“It’s OK, Hazel. It’s safe over here.”
“Where’s over here?”
“Where you belong.”
Half of her knew that was true, the other thought it a lie. Tie went to her mother.
The three steps to the portal’s light were the hardest of her life. The fourth was a reward. Every cell in her body seemed to sing as she bathed in the glow. It didn’t last long, like dipping below the surface of a hot bath.
“That’s right, Hazel. I’m right in front of you. Keep going.”
Hazel had no idea where she was. It looked like the Old West, but not. The stone road was dusty, but the sky was purple and orange and many colors she didn’t know. Moons had doubled. Shacks lined both sides of the rigid road, with perfectly straight slanted roofs set on tall, narrow frames.
The world was dark and empty.
The feel of her mother was gone.
“Are you here? Mom?”
Hazel looked behind her. She wanted the light, and almost took a step toward it, but felt like a coward until she turned back around, stared at the road, and accepted its desolation.
Her feet clomped on the neatly laid stones. They seemed so out of place between the odd shacks, multicolored sky, and moons.
Hazel made her way down the empty road and as she reached the first few houses began to feel the presence of something. Then many things. “Hello?” she called out, over and over, to her mother or anyone who might listen.
Still, no one returned her call.
She was being watched. Hazel saw nothing, but felt many eyes hiding in shadows. Near the road’s end a shack on the right parted its door.
“Hazel!” she heard from the doorway.
She spun around, cried out, “Mom!” and ran into her mother’s arms.