Deep in the Hollow
Chindi Series
by Brandy Nacole
Date of
Publication: September 15th 2017
Publisher:
Brandy Nacole
Cover
Artist: The Book Cover Machine
Genre:
Paranormal
Tagline: Greed has a price, and the
dead do not always rest.
BLURB
Let me share some wisdom with
you. There is evil in this world we cannot see, not because it is hidden from
us, but because our minds refuse to accept its existence. But once we are able
to get past what everyone says should not be, it becomes our responsibility to
stop the evil we now see.
This insight wasn’t given to me
until a year after I lost the most important person in my life: Bryce Rowan.
Now, after another death at the same spot where he died—the overlook, where the
mysterious lights dance amongst the trees—I begin to wonder if they were
accidents after all.
Lucky for me, I’m not the only
curious one in town. Cooper, a ghost hunter (aka chaser), and his sister Jada
have moved to town and are starting to ask questions.
But the more we find out about
this town and the people who live here, people who I have known my whole life,
the more I begin to think there are those who would rather keep the evil
secret, even if it means we will never be safe, and that more will die.
Buy Links:
Excerpt:
Prologue
July 11,
1972
Once
again I’ve fallen prey to MaryAnn’s pleading, and I follow her out the window,
my stomach churning with dread, a contrast to her excitement. I don’t know why
I let her talk me into these things. She’s always getting us into trouble, has
been since we were little. Yet, here I am, still following her after seven
years of mistake after mistake. There’s something about her I can’t say no to.
I’ve always thought of her as my sister, not my cousin, and considering we were
born only two days apart, we are more like sisters—look like it too. But still,
even sisters tell each other no every once in a while. Not me. This time
though, I should have.
Our tiny
flashlights give off little light in the dark forest, mine unsteady as it
shakes in my hand. Thorns scrape at my skin and I look back, hoping to see a
light in the cabin on and my grandfather coming out to see where us girls have
run off to. No such luck. The small, two-bedroom cedar cabin is dark, its frame
nothing but an outline against the trees around it.
“I think
we should go back,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Will you
quit whining, Ester? This is no different than walking through the woods during
the daylight.”
I beg to
differ. During the day, the green leaves look welcoming, not over-powering and
creepy like now. I don’t feel trapped and afraid when walking these familiar
woods when the sun is shining bright, but now I do.
“But,
MaryAnn, grandpa said—”
“He was
just trying to scare you,” she hisses, as she shines her light on a raccoon
scavenging for food. It rushes off to hide from what he perceives as danger and
we continue on through the thicket.
No matter
what MaryAnn says, I know she’s wrong. I saw the fear in our grandfather’s eyes
as he told us the story of the thing that haunts these woods. MaryAnn had been
enthralled as she sat by the fire, her eyes bright, her body unmoving as she
absorbed every word. I had been terrified. Our grandfather has never been a
skeptical man, always saying rumors and legends are nonsense. “What you don’t
see with your eyes, don’t witness with your mouth.” So to see the fear in his
eyes as he witnessed the story he told us tonight is enough to convince me he
was telling the truth, and not just some tale to scare his grandchildren.
An owl
hoots overhead and a chill slowly creeps up my back, making me shiver.
“I think
we should wait. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
MaryAnn
ignores my pleas, knowing I won’t go back alone.
The
leaves rustle as a slight wind picks up. I can no longer see the outline of the
cabin. I don’t know if it’s from my fear, but our lights seem to grow dimmer,
making the darkness feel as if it is weighing down on us.
A small
clearing comes into view, with timber laying hazardously along the
ground.
“We are
almost there,” MaryAnn whispers. “This is where grandpa and his workers have
been logging close to the overlook.”
Good.
Once we reach the overlook and she sees it is the same during the night as it
is during the day, we can go back to the safety of the cabin. I can already
feel the relief of being back under my blankets, eagerly waiting for morning,
with the fresh smell of biscuits baking in the oven and bacon frying in the pan
filling the air.
Whoosh.
“What was
that?” I ask, panicked, and spin around in a circle, my flashlight shaking with
more force.
“Ester,
please stop this nonsense. I’m sure it was nothing.”
Once on
the other side of the clearing, we start the mile hike up the incline and once
again I wish we had stuck to the main road instead of taking the shorter path
through the woods. The ground is slick from the rain we had yesterday, and with
every step I take, I lose two as I slide back down.
MaryAnn
grabs my hand, steadying me, as we both use our weight to climb the impossible
hill.
Whoosh.
“Did you
hear that?” she asks, her voice a bit higher than before.
I close
my eyes, my stomach tensing. She better not be playing any games with me. I
will rat her out in a heartbeat if she is.
“Yes.
What do you think it is?”
Before
she can answer, a strange mist builds in front of us. I examine it closely and
point it out to MaryAnn, but before it takes on a shape, it’s gone.
Whoosh.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
A strong
wind spins around us, and not caring about what MaryAnn thinks, I let go of her
hand and tumble back down the hill, scared for my life. My feet are unsteady as
the land levels out again and I fall over a log. Seconds later, MaryAnn lands
on top of me.
“Come
on!” she screams, terror in her voice. “We have to get back to the cabin.”
“What did
you see?” I demand, as I race after her, dodging fallen limbs. But she doesn’t
answer. She keeps running, looking back to make sure that I am close behind her.
A strong
force comes from behind me and I’m shoved into MaryAnn’s back, making us both
lose our footing.
Whoosh.
Tears
pour down my face as we scramble to our feet, our flashlights lost in the
darkness. We try our hardest to run through the darkness with no light to guide
our way. MaryAnn grabs my hand, our sweaty fingers clinging as tightly as they
can while we try to make out where we are.
When
MaryAnn screams, her body jerked away from me, I feel as if I can’t breathe. Something
is trying to take her from me. My grip on her hand tightens, my small twelve
year old frame pulling as hard as possible against whatever is trying to tug
her away.
A
movement behind her catches my eye as we struggle, but I can’t make out who or
what it is. It’s shrouded in a black cloak, practically invisible under the
blanket of night. I do make out the grey mist behind it, as if it’s drifting
and waiting for its prey.
My heart
thrums, feeling as if it’s trying to escape out of my chest, and my throat
grows tight as I choke on my tears. MaryAnn screams, begging me not to let go
of her, as our fingers begin to slip.
Why can
no one hear us? We have to be close to the cabin.
A sharp
pain explodes in the back of my head, and I pitch forward, disoriented. My legs
slip out from beneath me, and I can feel myself losing consciousness. MaryAnn’s
fingers slip out of mine as I land against the damp leaves on the ground. The
last thing I hear is her pleading for me to save her.
Author Info
Gemini Brandy Nacole is a writer
of urban fantasy and paranormal books published by Ponahakeola Press. A reader
from a young age, Brandy has always loved folklore and stories of beings that
go bump in the night.
Whenever she’s not reading or
writing, Brandy is spending time with her family and friends, throwing around
crazy ideas, teaching, and singing like a rock star at a concert for no one
else but herself. She loves plants, but unfortunately is a killer of
anything that requires water but can’t voice (scream) their needs.
Author Links:
Hosted by
Presented by
No comments:
Post a Comment