Echoes at Dawn

Decadent Publishing Company

Heat Rating: Sensual
Word Count: 89,000
0 Ratings (0.0)

The strangely intertwined lives of a widowed woman, and a charismatic bachelor come together in order to show that in life, there are no coincidences… only destiny. Waterfront restaurant chef Madeline Young adores her job. If only her love and family's lives were as successful as her career. With a teenage son, who spends time in the emergency room for alcohol poisoning and a dementia-plagued mother, Madeline doesn't know how much more she could handle. Then her mother enlists the help of her deceased twin sister, Mary, to guide Madeline to find true happiness. An early dawn visit from the spirit directs Madeline to volunteer at the local hospitals center for addiction recovery, where she comes alive for the first time in many years under the attention of Nat Griffin. Nathaniel Griffin, a part-time counselor and contractor, fascinates his clients with his lectures. In keeping with his philosophy of professionalism, Nat prefers to keep his personal life private. When attraction tests his beliefs, Nat must confront his marred past. Is he willing to face his demons or take the easier path and remain isolated? Can unworldly ghosts save this couple from their own self-destructive behavior?

Echoes at Dawn
0 Ratings (0.0)

Echoes at Dawn

Decadent Publishing Company

Heat Rating: Sensual
Word Count: 89,000
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Dara England

The willowy vision swirled around and circled like a cyclone before she vanished. The hazy fog gradually thinned, and it was as if she never appeared. Mother reached inside her robe pocket, took out a five-pointed star necklace and a tiny charm that housed a photo of her twin sister Mary. She loved to keep her precious belongings close to her heart. She clutched the pendant tightly before she put it around her neck.

Mark sat next to her on the bed. He wrinkled his forehead and tightened his jaw.

The room seemed like it closed in on me, and it felt like there was a thin veil over my face. I struggled to breathe and gasped for air. It took a few minutes before I could speak.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Mark’s voice drummed in my ear.

As I shuttered, I pulled the coverlet over my shoulders. “I saw a ghostly image, and I believe she gave me a command,” I blurted. I held my hand up, and pressed my fingers against my mouth.

“What do you mean? Were you dreaming?” Mark shouted and sprung from the edge of my bed.

“No, I was awake,” I replied. I shook my head.

“Did she touch you?” he asked; his voice rose.

“She didn’t come close enough.”

“Did she come to rob us?” he screeched.

“I don’t think so.”

“The doors and windows are locked. How on earth did she get in?” he questioned.

“She appeared after a bright light,” I responded and found it all hard to believe.

“Well, you’re all right. That’s all that counts.”

Mother moved over to the antique armoire which was in our family for over a century. It was the only item she kept from her own bedroom when she was a young girl. It had a mahogany finish with beautiful gold handles. Around the doors were carvings in the shape of vines. She ran her hand across the old relic and opened the bottom drawer. She adjusted the back wall to reveal an extra space. I never knew there was a hidden area in the back. To my amazement, she lifted out a box of white candles before she advanced over to the mantel. Mother lit five candles and lowered her head. She moved over to the window, mumbled in what sounded like a different language, and then returned to my bedside as calm as could be.

“She had on an old-fashioned dress with a lace, hoop skirt,” I said. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to remember more details. “It had a wide sash around the waist, and she wore high top shoes. She floated in mid-air.” I moved to hang my legs over the bed.

“You must have been terrified,” Mark said.

“Was she someone you know?” he asked. Mark glanced around the room for clues.

“She looked like Aunt Mary.” After I made an attempt to place her, I felt a chill. It became as cold as the outdoors in my room. “It was Aunt Mary!” I cupped my hand over my mouth.

Mother peeked over her shoulder and recited a strange chant.

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