New Revisions!
I am the dust that is swept under the rug. I am broken and tormented by red nightmares. I don't want to be another orphan lost in a corrupt system but what choice do I have? I no longer have a home... until I meet Phin and Mari. They make me believe that ice doesn't cover my heart, that maybe home is not lost to me. Riley thought she could pretend to be normal but she finds herself unable to stop the nightmares that haunt her, even after running across the country to escape them. Just when she begins to feel like she can disappear in a small New England fishing town, she ends up in the hospital after an accident, setting her on a fateful path in which she is forced to start facing the violent events of her past. When a friend re-enters her life, Riley decides to stop running. She slowly begins to reveal the things that torment her and finds herself falling in love with her neighbor who refuses to let her run away. In an attempt to face her darkness, Riley returns to her home, the place where tragedy threatened to pull her under and meets a mysterious stranger who changes everything. Thrust into an all too familiar situation with a dark underbelly, Riley puts everything on the line to atone for her past in a series of life or death decisions. |
Coming Soon!
Beneath Still Waters
Here is a sneak preview at my next book, Beneath Still Waters:
I remember her voice the day she told me death was lonely. It was soft, barely a whisper. It reminded me of the feeling of warm sand beneath my feet and I was struck by the oddity that such a sad sentiment could remind me of the beach. It was the last time I would hear her voice.
As I sink deeper into the ocean, the light slipping away and tendrils of seaweed circling around my wrists, I think about her words. She was right, death is lonely, but maybe not in the way she meant. I am alone, only surrounded by the marine life curious of a creature without gills taking up a place in the sea but I don't feel sad or scared. If I am being perfectly honest I'm not even concerned that the world will go on without me.
Perhaps that is what she meant, that loneliness remains with the world and will continue to follow its destructive path after we're no more than dust or fish food in my case. And the one thought that keeps reverberating as I sink deeper into my grave is that finally, I will be free.
I remember her voice the day she told me death was lonely. It was soft, barely a whisper. It reminded me of the feeling of warm sand beneath my feet and I was struck by the oddity that such a sad sentiment could remind me of the beach. It was the last time I would hear her voice.
As I sink deeper into the ocean, the light slipping away and tendrils of seaweed circling around my wrists, I think about her words. She was right, death is lonely, but maybe not in the way she meant. I am alone, only surrounded by the marine life curious of a creature without gills taking up a place in the sea but I don't feel sad or scared. If I am being perfectly honest I'm not even concerned that the world will go on without me.
Perhaps that is what she meant, that loneliness remains with the world and will continue to follow its destructive path after we're no more than dust or fish food in my case. And the one thought that keeps reverberating as I sink deeper into my grave is that finally, I will be free.