Updated: Apr 29
Quick update, and a sneak peek at "Novel 3" (unnamed title).
Hi all. I've been a bit remiss with blogging, but this is just me following the old adage "Don't speak unless you really have something significant to say". I've been working hard on a couple of projects (including the 3 book series, still in the works)... But, a few months ago, I decided to focus all of my writing time into my third stand-alone novel. It's in the same vein as my first two books, but more akin to 'In The Dark' than 'Lies That Bind'.
It follows the journey of Ethan Mitchell. Estranged from his (single-parent) mother for all of his adult life, he's now tasked with going back to the hometown he left in his teens, to take care of her funeral arrangements. It is an emotionally charged story of loss, guilt, resentment... and something much darker and more sinister.
I can't wait to get this book launched, and to see what you think of it.
And, as always.... I hope it keeps you up at night.
Here's a snippet:
The call came in exactly one week before I saw what I saw in that house. The writhing, mangled face.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up, just thinking about it.
It seems like an ocean of time between these two things. The call and that face.
Oh God, that face…
But… it’s really only been one week. Not nearly enough time for all that has transpired.
I knew what that call was about before it even came in. It’s not like I have some sort of sixth sense, and I'm not prone to premonitions or anything like that. But, somehow, I knew. As I sat there, a few hours earlier, in the little broom-closet of an office, I felt it. I didn't know what the feeling meant, at the time, but it was absolutely real. Like the sensation you get when you accidentally drop something. The split-second feeling of "oh shit" as you clumsily try to grab at it, before it hits the ground.
This feeling is always stronger when it's something breakable. It’s as if our reflexes can somehow tell when something is priceless. When it’s something we won't be able to put back together.
As I sat there, filling out my sales reports, reviewing the map for the next day's meetings, the feeling had hit me hard, and out of nowhere. I found myself suddenly resisting the urge to grab out into the space in front of me. I didn’t want to seem like a crazy person, grabbing out at thin air.
But then, this was something that I wouldn’t be able to put back together… and thin air is all that’s left of her now.