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Marilyn Nichols Kapp
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A ragged old wolf-dog that appears and disappears, an imaginary playmate who turns out to be real, an unexpected fortune and the death of her only relative are just the beginning.
Amanda Dorning searches for her identity, her Aunt Haley's past and the reason someone wants her beating heart. The journey leads Amanda from a farm in Kentucky back to Madrona. In the Cascade Mountains of Washington she comes face to face with her twin sister and both realize that one of them must die.
The other will live to carry out the prophecies of an ancient legend.
Woman tightened her grip on the flashlight, one of the clan’s few concessions to the modern world. The small circle of light slithered along in front of her feet. The cavern floor was jagged, a narrow path of packed earth snaking through a section of fallen rock. Woman paused long enough to sweep the beam into shadowy corners and over granite walls. She aimed back at the floor before hurrying on. The underground corridors were rife with hazards, both nature-made and otherwise.
A few more yards and she stopped again, listening for the trickle of dripping water. Somewhere in one of these corridors was an icy bottomless lake. But it had been years since she was through the tunnels and all she remembered was the constant drip, drip that warned of certain death to the unsuspecting.
The light bobbed upward and out, glistened on damp stone, then suddenly shafted into nothingness.
Woman shuddered, instinctively tightening her arms around the precious bundle strapped to her chest That dark void was a room of horror, a terrifying barrier between her and civilization.
The promise of that other world made her anxious to rush on, forget caution, but she knew she needed a few minutes to renew her strength. The baby girls felt like a millstone around her neck. Her shoulders ached from the strain, and needles of pain jabbed the soles of her hide-wrapped feet. The easy run she had started with hours ago had now slowed to a trot. And the real danger waited outside the shelter of the cave. So did any chance of survival.
She put the flashlight down, shrugged off the bearskin robe, and clawed the rawhide thong knotted around her waist. With the cinch loose, the crude, fur-lined pouch swung free. The sudden weight dug into the back of her neck. She slipped the straps over her head and eased the bundle to the floor.
Quickly, she squatted, unlaced the flap of the sack, and felt inside, fingers flitting deftly over smooth, soft skin.
The potion had done its job. The twins slept peacefully, though Amy’s face still felt hot and clammy.
Woman pushed to her feet and lifted the pouch. No time to waste. Miles of twisting, looping tunnel were behind her now, but worse was still ahead.
She secured the babies to her body, picked up the robe, and flung it around her shoulders. She stooped for the flashlight and held it as low as her arm would reach. The closer to the ground, the smaller the area of light. She was determined not to look on the contents of the room beyond.
Woman crept to the mouth of the chamber and hesitated on the threshold.
The mustiness of centuries permeated the boundaries of the room. Death and decay seemed palpable. Frigid air swirled around her feet, nipped unprotected legs. She was sure that if she closed her eyes and listened she’d hear her name slurred in slimy throats. Evil lurked in the darkness beyond the doorway.
Something rattled, shuffled behind her.
Woman drew the robe tighter around her babies.
Nerves taut, muscles straining, she plunged into the black void and followed the circle of light. Tiny, invisible feet skittered just out of reach of grasping, murmuring shadows.
The pale ray grazed a cluster of gray-white bones. Skeletal fingers curved toward her, forever frozen in static plea. Woman choked back a scream. Whimpering, she sprinted for the tower of rock, which shielded the cave opening from view of the world outside.
She rounded the boulder at a fast trot and felt a blast of freezing air. Ice crusted the throat of the cave. Her feet shot out from under her, and she crashed flat-seated, spun, and careened toward the yawning gap in the mountain. Grabbing at anything, catching nothing, she shot backwards through the opening and sailed over the ledge into a mound of drifted snow.
Marilyn Nichols Kapp was born in Richmond and grew up in Madison and surrounding counties. Writing has been a lifetime passion
As well as a member of the Richmond Writers Group, she is a member of Romance Writers of America, Futuristic, Fantasy & Paranormal and Sisters in Crime writing organizations. She is a member of the Madison County Historical Society and Madison County Civil War Roundtable.
Ms Kapp resides in Richmond, spending most of her time with writing related activities.
Ms. Kapp’s talent as a storyteller amazes me as she cross genres as easily as crossing the road. Readers buy this book: you will not regret it! --- *****Five Stars Reviewed By Jewel Dartt, Midnight Scribe Reviews November 1999
The twists and turns the author takes you on from here will amaze you and the end results are surprising. This is definitely a good book for those that don’t care for the heavy psychological thriller books. -- Review by: Tracy Eastgate, Tracy’s Book Reviews, (http://www.geocities.com/t_eastgates_reviews) **** Highly Recommended
A spine-chilling page-turner from a writer who knows how to scare the reader with suggestion, a rare talent. It’s almost anti-climactical that she also has the ability to create a very satisfying romance. What a thrill to read this great book on my Rocket Ereader! But whether or not you own a Rocket to read it on, don’t miss Where The Firethorns Grow.-- Reviewed by Jane Toombs --4 Stars
Book Publisher: Wings e Press
No. of Pages: 266
Paper Weight (lb): 11.4
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