To pique your interest, here's an a look inside the book. Order your copy today on Amazon and then come see me at my book signing on January 8th at The Book Shop in South Charleston from noon to 2pm.
I walked over to the bed and sat down and opened one of the nightstand's drawers. It was empty except for one photograph, folded in two, right down the middle. I opened it up and saw it was a photograph of Sean and Kevin, both smiling ear to ear and they looked so happy. What happened to this family? I wondered what exactly had caused the rift. Based on the O'Conners' argument this morning, it was evident that it was something bad. I just didn't know what.
I gathered that I was sitting on Patricia's side of the bed. Judging from what I heard Martin say this morning about Sean, I couldn't imagine him having this photo in the nightstand. I looked at it, gently running my finger down the photo over Sean's face. There it was--the face that had been in my every thought and dream since I had first laid eyes on it nearly three weeks ago.
I shoved the photo in my pocket and began making my way out of their private living space. Just as I walked out of their bedroom into their sitting room, I heard the front door open.
"Hurry up, Martin. I can't believe ye left yer hat. Ye never go anywhere without that stupid hat!" Patricia called from the front door. Martin's quick footsteps approached their room. I froze in fear and looked around for a place to hide.
As he got closer, I ducked into the bedroom just as he entered their sitting room.
"I'm jist gonna check on Samantha again to make sure she's alright," Patricia yelled.
Martin turned back towards the door. "Leave that poor gerl alone. Yer pesterin' her ti death, Pat! Let her git some rest! Come here and help me find me hat, please."
Grateful that their bedroom was on the first floor, I shoved open the bedroom window. Just as Martin finished yelling at Patricia, I fell to the ground below. "Ouch," I whispered as I landed on a bed of shrubbery. I just barely made it away before seeing the light switch on from their bedroom. The prickly shrubs scratched my exposed skin; however, I didn't dare move. I didn't want Martin to hear or see me lying outside of their bedroom window. There would be no good way to explain this. As the pain of my new scratches from the shrubs added to the pain of my bruises from my fall from the attic, I wondered how much worse this trip could get.