Tangled Souls
Coming 2009
Read Excerpt
TANGLED SOULS
Coming 2009
Horror
Paperback, 256 pags
Email for pre-ordering info |
Coming 2009
THE DEVOUR FAMILY SAGA CONTINUES!
Tangled Souls--A Legacy of Deceit
Proud and beautiful, Sabrina has at last risen above her family’s shame…
Living in the great Tate Mansion, she and her daughter, Amelia Rose,
began a new life, living amidst the Tate wealth and privilege. But even in the world of the wealthy, there are still malevolent forebodings and jealous passions stirring within the mansion’s cold walls…and the threat of evil remains.
Then her twin sister Scarlett returns, seeping into her life like a deadly
poison. Yet, is she whom she claims to be? It is up to Sabrina to find out.
As the dark clouds of deceit gather around Sabrina and her daughter, she must unravel the mansion’s cruel bonds and the dark mysteries of the past…to defy a sinister curse that has haunted her family for generations, for her daughter’s sake. And one man, a ghost hunter, wants to find out what lurks within the house…a world of wonders or a world of nightmares? Could he be the key to Sabrina’s salvation?
Yet Sabrina soon learns that from the darkest of deadly secrets, there is "no" escape…for only when all the secrets are exposed can love, hope, and truth triumph at last! |
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Excerpt
Prologue
Late at night as the fog rolls in across the San Francisco Bay and the air turns cold, the people of Centerville, California turn off their lights and go to sleep. But in one of those darkened houses—a great house unlike the others—the occupants are not asleep.
The house stands alone. It is both charming and impressive in the daylight, its monstrous proportions dominating the acres of land it rests upon. The mansion appears almost serene among the lush landscape and tall trees that artfully frame it like a well-preserved portrait from another era. But when the fog begins to swirl ominously around the immense four-story structure, a new personality emerges.
Strange, eerie shadows flit menacingly around shrubs and trees that seem harmless in the daylight. As the magic of night transforms its character, its true nature is revealed, unmasked and the haunters are once again its masters, prowling the dark hallways and grounds. From outside its cold walls, one can faintly hear the many chandeliers’ crystal teardrops jingling, tinkling, and whispering.
In sits there, shrouded in mist and mystery, a nesting place for living evil and terror from the dead.
It's Rambling Rose…it’s waiting for you.
***
The billowy fog, engulfing our house, keeping it in shrouds of darkness, whispers to me too. It whispers that I should have done things differently, but I am a creature driven by my passionate and impulsive nature, and I it knew i would never be able to change.
The fog made me suddenly long for spring to come. Sunny days would brighten up the gloom that had settled over the house and its occupants.
One evening as I laid there awake, staring up at the ceiling, fearing the worst was yet to come, fearing the worst in myself, and struggling to keep a firm hold on my nightmares as I snuggled closer to my husband, I could hear the wind blowing and the chandeliers tinkling.
I gazed over at his sleeping form. He flipped over and sprawled out his long, toned body. He was rippled with muscles form all the hours he spent swimming in our pool and working out in our gym. I considered waking him up to make love and hold me tight, to calm my sudden fears.
But I lay there supine, staring at the chandelier. The house was quiet. I thought of Amelia Rose in her adjoining bedroom. I hoped she was sleeping well and not having more nightmares. I wondered what her father would have said to her this afternoon… he would have something consoling, reassuring. But I hadn’t known what to say.
What was that? I heard a noise. Footsteps? At this time of night? I glanced at the clock; it was midnight—the witching hour. I got up, put my robe on over my nightgown, and slipped on my slippers. The house was cold at night…and very dark. Deep in my heart, I felt waves of dread.
Often when I can’t sleep, I wander the dimly lit halls. Tonight I found myself outside the closed door of the old nursery. I put my ear to the door and listened. Then I put my hand on the doorknob, but froze. There was a key jutting out of the lock, which meant the door was locked from the outside…perhaps someone had been deliberately locked up in that room. I pressed my ear to the door again.
I heard movement from inside…a scarping sound; a long moan; whispering, an elongated complaint from the floorboards.
Was someone or something in there?
I could hear the wind pick up outside, shrieking, finding its way into the house through the cracks. I shivered. The chandeliers began their tinkling, creating a nervous throbbing in my heart. Something was going to happen…I could feel it in my bones. My blood tingled with forewarning and the chandelier’s crystals kept jingling; a haunting tune of fright.
I stepped away from the door, staring at the knob. It was moving…turning.
I turned and fled. Whatever was in there wanted out, but I wasn’t going to be the one who opened the door and set it free!
I hurried back down the hall towards the main rotunda. I was planning on returning to my room and trying to sleep when I heard a tapping sound, faint at first then growing louder, more insistent.
The small amount of illumination from the Tiffany lamps, left on here and there, elongated the shadows and made the house and the corridors look deeper, scarier than they were. My own shadow slid across the walls like a ghostly specter gathering around me, reaching out for me. My footsteps made the old floorboards creak and moan. I paused at the grand staircase and looked down.
It was nothing, I told myself, simply the house settling. Old houses did that.
But then I felt a rippling sensation on the back of my neck, as if someone or something was stroking my hair. I spun around, but the house remained dim and quiet.
No, no, I kept telling myself, it was just my over-active imagination trying to get the better of me.
To give me comfort my hand lifted to the cross necklace I wore around my neck on a thin gold chain, a present from my father. I wear it always and someday I will give it to my daughter. The necklace was the only family heirloom that we had left. It made me feel strong, unafraid, because I know that I’m not alone in this house…in this cruel world.
As I started down the staircase, my legs were shaking and my knees were knocking so much that I had to hold onto the rosewood banister.
Outside I could hear the reverberating sounds of a thunderstorm brewing. The wind was howling with a mounting fury as suddenly the rains came down from the heavens to beat against the roof and the windows like an angry fist.
The thunder came next, sounding like a gunshot, followed by a streak of bright light, piercing the darkness, and illuminating the room, causing me to jump. The rain made a loud staccato beat, drumming along with my pounding heart.
Impelled by some invisible force, I made my way across the foyer to the front door where I stopped.
Was that someone knocking on the door? Who could it be in the middle of the night? In this God-awful storm?
The strong winds were growling, tearing at the sides of the house, and banging the shutters. The rain and wind beat the limbs of the trees so that they scraped against the windows, making an eerie sound…like a ghost, a rap, tap, tapping.
I heard it again. Then the chandeliers began to stir again, the jangling prisms, putting a chill in my spine, and icicles over my heart.
Someone was knocking!
Without thinking, I rushed over to the double-doors and undid the latch, flinging them open wide.
Someone was standing on the porch, half-hidden in the darkness.
Startled, I took a step back, then another. The cold penetrated my clothes and I could even feel the chill seeping through to my bones. The fierce winds whipped my robe and nightgown high enough to expose my bare thighs. I shivered.
I couldn’t make out the face. The silhouetted figure was moving towards me. A gust of wind swept past me into the foyer instantaneously making the chandelier’s prisms jingle loudly. It lifted the hair of the dark creature standing on my porch, making the long strands fly about like black witch’s hair.
Then the thunder roared and the lightening blazed the sky… revealing its face, its eyes, for one brief second I saw my own face staring back at me out of the darkness, and I screamed.
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