Unusual Destiny a Year 2000 New Author Award Winner...
Voted a Buffalo News "Best Beach Read" in 2004!
Published by Aventine Press LLC, ISBN:1-59330-079-4, Pages 190, $12.95
"A crackling good read." - Writers Digest Magazine
About the Book: Forced to cover a supposed haunting and the arrival of a purported ghost chaser, Port Hayes print reporter Anna Freeman sets out to expose a hoax and fraud. Cold drafts and slamming doors amuse rather than amaze, until her name starts popping up among the living and the dead. In a frenzied quest to preserve her credibility, Anna links hair-raising events from the past and the present to elaborate conspiracies old and new. She ties a decades old disappearance to an ancient legend and finds the key to a shocking tug-of-war between two worlds ... one here, one beyond.
Read an excerpt...
Chapter 1
Emma Frankyn pressed the letter to her aging heart, closed her eyes and gave timid thanks to her master, an entity so darkly dangerous she dared not speak his name. She turned, began to walk, an unfamiliar slipstream of exuberance pushing her through shadow filled corridors. Body thrumming, senses alive for the first time in longer than she cared to remember, she saw the filth, felt the dampness, and smelled the rot that had gradually claimed her once proud home. Suddenly, she was ashamed of herself, of her clan. She realized the squalor, the deterioration, and the corruption that surrounded her wasn't an inevitable consequence of old age and the passage of time. It was rooted in neglect and indifference, caused by a pervasive apathy that had sapped the strength and nearly paralyzed a family steeped in servitude. Thwarted, they had become slowly, bitterly, resigned to defeat.
But no more! Stale air stirred as she entered the dimly lit parlor making dust motes dance. These sparkled in the few meager rays of sunlight that peeked through tattered velvet draperies, and even this most ordinary sight thrilled her. Tremors of excitement racked her gnarled fingers causing the letter to rustle as she held it before her. “It has finally happened,” she said breathlessly. “The property in Port Hayes has been purchased!”
The announcement caused subdued but jubilant murmurs to arise among five others that were seated throughout the once elegantly furnished room.
Emma’s grandson, Evan, had been leaning against the mantel of the fireplace, but upon hearing her words he slowly turned. A morose young man, given to acerbity and fits of raging temper, he was, nevertheless, the hope of the family. Exceptionally tall and long-boned, his stature was that of a runner. His light-blue eyes were made startling by his dark complexion and the deep-sable hair, which framed his face and covered his collar.
“Bring that to me,” Evan commanded.
Eager to obey, Emma closed the distance between them, then watched as Evan scanned the letter. When he looked up, his eyes glittered; the intense-blue of flame seeming to leap there in wild abandon. Whether this blazing inner fire was borne of triumph or simple covetousness, Emma couldn’t know. She was relieved when he turned away.
His back to his grandmother, Evan gazed into the hearth where an ugly heap of cold, slate-gray ashes lingered unattended. Seconds ticked by before he whispered, “She has come back. She will be mine.”
Emma pointed to the letter; creased and crumpled now, its corners poking out at odd angles from Evan’s clenched fist. “It says she has married. The husband could be a problem.”
Evan whirled to face her. “And whose fault is that?” he snapped. “I was an infant when the rest of you faltered, when you lost her! Because of your carelessness, this male will have to be dealt with. He means nothing to us, why should we care?” He took a step toward his grandmother, and as she retreated from the heat of his gaze, he smiled. “Now that I know where she is, nothing will stop me. The blood line will continue!”
He raised the letter, shook it menacingly, and then threw it down. “This clan has fulfilled its duty and been patient for uncounted generations, each child maturing in the same number of hours and days as the last. As ever, we will hope that this time our master will guide our efforts, that he will embrace this next child, that his prophesy will finally be fulfilled!”
Nervously fingering the collar of her black dress, Emma’s voice trembled as she reminded him, “Evan, you mustn’t forget about the birthmark. It must be verified before you proceed.”
Evan’s lips slid across his teeth in the cold-blooded, serpentine smile of a coiled predator. “Yes, old woman, it does,” he hissed. “You’ll leave within the hour. See that it is done.”
Chapter 2
Anna Freeman looked at George Jenkins, the editor of the Port Hayes Gazette, and asked in disbelief, “You want me to do what?”
“There’s a ghost-chaser coming into town and I want you to attach yourself to him,”--George pointed at her emphatically--”like glue.”
Anna’s shoulders slumped. “Look, George, I know I’m still in the doghouse over that slightly harsh interview with Congresswoman
Obviously ignoring Anna’s protest, George said, “Here’s the deal, Freeman. A young couple, Charles and Barbara Dubois, just bought the old Beal place. It’s a big, spooky-looking old dump that’s been abandoned for twenty-six years. It’s east of the Heights on
Anna gritted her teeth and snatched the file. “When I win my Pulitzer, I’m gonna remember this, George.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered and wiggled his fingers in dismissal.
“Ghost-catcher,” Anna groaned as she walked through the clacking, ringing, buzz of the bullpen. It wasn’t Anna’s fault the congresswoman went ballistic over a few pointed questions. After all, it’s a reporter’s job to ruffle a few feathers, especially when she smells a certain aroma. And speaking of bullshit: How was she supposed to take this story seriously?
Anna was straightening the mess on her desk when Tish Mulroney, her best friend and closest competition at the Gazette, peeked over the cubicle wall they shared. “So, how was the woodshed?”
“A trip to the woodshed,” Anna said longingly, “would have been fine with me. But we didn’t go there. George decided to give me a first class ticket to the Twilight Zone.”
“Huh?” Tish blurted.
Anna smiled. “That was my reaction.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door knowing that she didn’t have to elaborate. The office gossip machine would spread word of her new assignment very efficiently: Anna Freeman, puff-piece queen.
“Ah, the hell with it,” Anna mumbled. This wasn’t the first time she’d been in deep shit with George and, the way she dogged a story, she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Besides, she was only twenty-five and had plenty of time to collect that Pulitzer….
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