Happily, I hit gold with the most curious of listings. In Riverdale, perched on a hill, was a $14.99 million mansion completed in 1928 for the second coming of Jesus Christ.
No, this was not a joke: Broker Sean McPeak, of Prudential Douglas Elliman, was quick to set up a tour, and so I ended up at the doorstep of a looming, castle-like mansion straight out of "Wuthering Heights."
I assumed the house was unoccupied, but Mr. McPeak told me to go in ahead of him when he and his entourage of brokers were running late.
"Come in," chirped Sandra Galuten, greeting me with the hospitality of a Southern belle. She ushered me in through a grandiose marble foyer with a gold-leaf ceiling, past a sweeping, French walnut staircase and black-granite wet bar and into a conservatory with a bluestone floor and a wall of windows.
Ms. Galuten pulled out a couple of old newspaper articles describing the history of the 2.3-acre site.
"No one ever lived in this," she said.
A woman named Genevieve Ludlow Griscom, she said, pointing to an article, is said to have built the house. She was a member of a religious community and they called it Chapel Farm and used the grounds as a retreat.
"Although Mrs. Griscom oversaw every detail of the mansion's construction, neither she [nor] anyone else ever lived there, prompting neighbors to whisper she was waiting for the second coming of Christ," the article says.
The estate was sold to Manhattan College at some point and Ms. Galuten and her husband, the late Jerry Galuten, bought the land-lease in 1987.
Fires and vandals had gutted most of the house by that time and so the renovation process began—one that took them nine painstaking years, until they finally moved in to the more than 14,000-square-foot space in 1996.
"It was restored with love," said Ms. Galuten.
Fifteen years later, the nearly 20-room mansion's restoration (the kind your upper-crust grandmother would gush over) still gleams bright.
Walking amid the maze of rooms is dizzying; there are stairways and nooks around every corner. It's like being in a time warp, an ostentatious throwback to another era.
Ms. Galuten points out elaborately painted ceilings, the work of a painter from the Plaza Hotel who was at the house for four-and-a-half years gilding and painting. Gold and silver leaf adorn moldings.
The hallway leading to the master bedroom is a mosaic that's a copy of one in the Vatican made of marble imported from Italy. There is a game room with antique slot machines and a gym with a sauna. The basement includes a walk-in freezer (that Ms. Galuten once accidentally locked herself in) and a wine cellar. The massive kitchen includes a barbecue pit. All the bathroom floors are heated (and there are many!), as is the conservatory's bluestone floor.
There are six hand-crafted, marble fireplaces, including a supposed replica of one in the White House. And the sweeping staircase and floors and woodwork are all French walnut.
Did I mention the deck off of the master suite with a hot tub? And the maid's quarters—the size of my apartment? And the electric back scrubber in her daughter's bathroom?
The décor is as astonishing as the scope and materials of the house.
Ms. Galuten casually confirms that, yes, this is an original Tiffany, and that's a Chagall, and the painting in the dining room is a Peter Max. He's a friend, in fact.
It's no surprise that the house has been used for shoots for everything from Italian Vogue, "Gossip Girl" and most recently a Whitney Houston tribute, to be aired soon.
More than anything, the house is a testament to love.
Mr. Galuten passed away in 2007 at the age of 67 after a second heart transplant.
He was a corporate, international barterer, heading up SGD and Encore. But more than anything he was a serial entrepreneur, says Ms. Galuten, rattling off other occupations that included working at the United Nations, importing tropical fish and producing music.
"I had such a wonderful husband," she said. "It was a love story from the beginning to the end."
Living in the house that she and her husband entertained and made a home in was certainly lonely upon his death, she acknowledged.
"I put all my love into this house and I really have mixed emotions about leaving it," she said. "I just felt until a year ago that he was in here. But it's getting to the point where I have to get on with my life."
And so she's hoping for a sale, though she had considered auctioning off the house since she had tried to sell a couple of year ago, to no avail.
"I would like someone to move in that would appreciate this house," she said. "Anybody that would appreciate the elegance of a home that's like from another generation."
