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Who is she? Whose child is she carrying? From the moment Beth Kincaid rubs the brass of long dead Olivia Avenlyng while she and her husband tour England, two worlds collide. Olivia freely inhabits Beth's body, and Beth is pulled back in time to relive the terror of Olivia's life, torn between love and duty.
In a single movement she leaped out of bed, jabbed the button on the recorder and ran to the door. Nothing. By the dim baseboard lighting she could see that the hall was empty. Yet, she could plainly hear the voice descending the stairs!
She fumbled for the fishing line on her thumb and pulled, but it gave loosely. She pulled again and it went completely slack, sagging to the floor. Panic filled her chest, knotted at her throat. She reeled in the fishing line, hand over hand and stood with the knot at the end caught between her two fingers. With horror she realized that Matt wasn't there. He wasn't at the end of the line. She was alone.
"Ah-h-h-h-h--" the voice wept, honing her attention on some spot that she couldn't see, only feel. Surely there were tears. No anguish like this could be born without tears. Poor Elizabeth. What was causing such anguish? She clutched the door frame with one hand. Now. Now was the time. She willed herself to speak.
"Elizabeth, is that you?" Her voice was so weak and trembly she could barely hear herself. She tried again. "Elizabeth, please talk to me. I want to help."
To her amazement the voice faltered as if the body had stopped forward motion. She could feel a presence; something was there, about halfway down the stairs. Without knowing how, she knew it. She could see every spindle on the railing, the grain of the carpet, the stained-glass oval panel on the front door below. Not even a shadow stood on the stair. But there was something there. The hair on her arms felt electrified.
"Elizabeth, what is it? Why do you cry?"
The presence was coming toward her. Her heart banged clumsily against her ribs and her lungs seemed to have collapsed. She couldn't breathe. She knew she was looking through whatever, whoever, was there, and she knew as strongly as she knew the shape of her own hand that Elizabeth was near.
She backed up, into the bedroom. Silent now, the presence followed. There was no sound. The house was filled with cold dead darkness. She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn't work. She wanted to run, but her feet were somehow rooted to the floor. She felt slightly disoriented, as if she were standing in a soundproof room. She could see but hear nothing. Her brain seemed to be slogging through thick mud.
And then the tendrils of smoke began to curl around her legs, gently pushing, urging. Her fingertips tingled. She was going...going....
"No!" Her voice filled the room. "No. Talk to me, Elizabeth. I want to be your friend. Talk to me."
The tentacles of smoke backed away as if from the sucking wind of a holocaust and hovered, waiting.
"Oh-h-h-h-h--" the voice began again. Whispery soft and delicate as the tones of a child. Strange words poured around her ears, like cream from a pitcher. Words that had no meaning, full of pain and prophecy. Warning.
"Help me," Beth said stretching out her arms. "I don't understand."
If she hadn't been looking at her hands, Beth would have thought a feather had been drawn across the palms. Something had brushed her hands, but there was nothing there. And the voice began again. "Teich! Luathaich!" An urgency, desperate with need, and this time she knew, she knew what Elizabeth was saying. "Run! Danger!"
A crash of splintering sound broke the silence. From downstairs it sounded as if every breakable piece of china in the house had been thrown against the wall and shattered.
From below two voices shouted at the same time.
"What the hell are you doing here?" The bellow, Kevin's voice, echoed through the house bouncing and reverberating from the walls, flowing up the stairs, filling the rooms.
"Don't move or I'll drop you where you stand." This was Matt, promising mayhem in magnificent proportions.
Dazedly, as if she were feeling her way through dense fog, Beth moved to the top of the stairs.
My byline has appeared on everything from childrenâ€™s literature to senior citizen fiction; from news writing to poetry, fiction and non-fiction. I have taught a successful creative writing course and been involved in a program teaching adults to read. Credits include Wings ePress, Inc. as well as a multitude of newspapers and magazines. I have placed in the top three in national contests and treasure a Writing Excellence Award from my college.
I have a loving and supportive husband and two grown daughters, who have given me a total of eight perfect, handsome and intelligent grandchildren--so says this prejudiced grandmother.
Since my first memory, music and books have been my passion. Music continues to feed my soul. I have sung in choral groups all across the eastern half of the U.S., done solo and ensemble work and am currently a member of a large chorale.
Today I have books in every room in my house, and never go out the door without reading material under my arm. With equal passion, I avoid cooking and cleaning house.
Marilyn Gardiner has done well in capturing the essence of the times, and the courage of people to find a new place to start new lives. As depicted by the title, the plot, suspense and romance, flow, not always steadily, but sometimes with a fierceness that dares readers to leave the story. Like A River, My Love, the tale's depth will hold you fast until you reach the end of the journey. -- Brenda, The Rite Lifestyle
There are good writers and there are great writers. Wings author Marilyn Gardiner definitely leads the pack in the second category. I've just finished WHEN THE WIND BLOWS and was "blown away" by this author's talent! You won't find tired clichÃ©s and hackneyed metaphors in this suspenseful, child-in-jeopardy tale about a frantic mother's heart-stopping search for her young son.
The romance is subtle and the focus is on Molly's internal struggle to unravel what is and what only seems to be, all the while trying not to fall in love with her fellow sleuth. The scenes are vivid and visual, and this reader found herself racing toward the end along with the heroine. That search being done, the next one will be for Marilyn Gardiner's next book. WHEN THE WIND BLOWS is a fabulous work! A must read for all romantic suspense fans. -- Highly recommended, Anne Carter, Beacon Street Books
Dancing Ladies: "Marilyn Gardiner has written a spellbinding story, guaranteed to keep you turning pages to see what happens next. Prepare to stay up late with this one. And donâ€™t read it during an intense rainstorm or in a house that creaks at night.â€ -- J D Webb, Author of Shepherdâ€™s Pie
"Dancing ladies is a great tale that grabs hold of the reader. I couldn't stop (reading) until the ending which left me with spine-tingling sensations. The romantic suspense in this story is stunning. Gardiner weaves a great paranormal with just the right touch of mystery. Her style of writing really kept me spellbound." - Linda L., The Romance Studio, 5 hearts.
Banjo Eyes by Marilyn Gardiner is a suspenseful tale of true love, betrayal, rejection and deception. When Lily goes back home to settle her late fatherâ€™s affairs, weird things begin happening, and she doesnâ€™t know who she can trust. This is a real page turner, right up to the shocking conclusion. -- JoEllen Conger, Conger Books Reviews
Book Publisher: Wings e Press
No. of Pages: 256
Paper Weight (lb): 11.2
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