Sara Beth Cole
Genre: Young Adult Paranormal
Date of Publication: July 6, 2013
ISBN:1490316620
ASIN:978-1490316628
Number of pages: 183
Word Count: 57.000
Cover Artist: John Hofmann at 640 Media Solutions
Book Description:
After losing her mother, Regina Holler moves to a small town with her estranged Aunt Liddy.
In between making soap and learning about her peculiar family history, Regina stumbles across two brothers with problems of their own.
Jason and Landon swear that the woods she wanders through aren’t haunted, but it seems the ghosts of Regina’s past are set on colliding with the ghosts of Falken’s Woods.
About the Author:
Sara-Beth Cole lives in Southeastern Michigan with her husband and two children along with her rescue dog, Rufus, and cat, Clara. She loves reading and sunshine and combines the two as often as possible.
https://www.facebook.com/FalkensWoods
{~ EXCERPT ~}
CHAPTER 1
I raged silently in my loneliness, staring out the
windshield as we followed the marshy fields along the coast. It might have been nicer if it had been an
ocean and not just a lake. I used to
love going to the beach near my home.
Now, I was going to be trapped in a world so different than my own.
My aunt’s house is further upstate in a town that you
couldn’t find on a map. I was moving in with a woman I didn’t know in a town no one had
ever heard of. How’s that for loneliness? I stared blankly out my window, ignoring the
bubbly hymns she sang softly as she drove.
At least the emptiness of her town meant no one would be calling and
visiting all day and night, disturbing me while I reveled in memories. I hate how people think they’re your friend after you’ve suffered a tragedy, but
were never around when you truly needed them.
Aunt Liddy’s property bordered against a forest on two
sides. The closer side of her yard lead
to a cornfield. There was a clear
separation between her lawn and the shadowy woods as if the trees and birds
knew where the property line rested and wouldn’t dare to encroach on her private
residence. The two-story farmhouse was
weather-worn, but clean. It reminded me
of the old houses where monsters lived in horror movies. The wraparound porch boasted several chairs
and couches and even a dining set.
Nobody would keep their furniture on a porch back home. Nobody back home would eat on a porch,
either. I dreaded to see the interior.
“This house has been owned by our family for four
generations. My great-grandfather built
this house after he asked my great-grandmother to marry him. Maybe one day, it will be your house,” she watched me as she spoke,
expecting a response no doubt. I just
stared blankly out the windshield, pretending not to hear her. There was no way I’d live out here on purpose. Liddy shook her head as if she could hear my
thoughts.
The front door yawned open and we walked inside. I gazed into my new prison. Several windows filled the house with natural
light. Even on a cloudy day, she didn’t need to turn on a
lamp. The furniture appeared worn and
faded and the floorboards looked warped and groaned under our feet. I eyed a sagging couch that occupied the
living room and wondered if the furnishings were four generations old,
too. I expected the smell of mildew and
moth balls to overwhelm me when I entered.
It smelled pleasant, however. It
reminded me of a gentle mix of flowers and berries.
“You can take the bigger guest bedroom
upstairs. It’s the last door to the left,” Liddy instructed me. “The bathroom is right next to it if you want to
clean up. If you can’t find anything or if you
need fresh towels while you’re here, let me know.”
I opened the door to my corner guest room and stared at
it before entering. The wooden floors
and plaster walls were painted a repulsive olive green and the mission style
furniture seemed as if they were at least as old as Aunt Liddy. The mattress sagged on the decrepit bed. Two walls boasted bare windows, letting in
what little light they could, but it still seemed far too bright.
I hesitated, unsure if I should bother unpacking. She hadn’t told me how long I would be welcome. Instead, I set my bags on my bed and stared
out the window toward the forest behind her house. Even in the heat of summer, the woods looks
cool and soft, inviting.
I had never even slept away from home before, not that I
found myself sleeping much at all these days.
I was seventeen, I could have refused to come with her. My voice had once again failed me as she led
me to her car. Instead, I had silently
watched in horror as she packed my things into suitcases and drove me away from the only home I knew. I wanted to tell her that she had left so
much behind. She forgot things I couldn’t imagine living without,
even for a little while. I knew she
wouldn’t let me go back and get my
things, so I silently mourned the loss of everything I couldn’t have.
Liddy appeared beside the doorway and shook her
head. “I’ll let you get settled in today,” she sighed in a way that
made me feel as though I would be staying with her longer than I expected. “But you need to get fresh air in those city
lungs starting tomorrow. There are a few
deer trails that lead into the forest and a big garden out back. I’ll show them to you later if you’re feeling up to it. That wardrobe is empty so you might as well
use it.”
I carefully placed my clothes in the drawers of the
wardrobe, noticing it smelled faintly of cedar, and settled my belongings in
the room while learning my surroundings a little more. I took an inventory of the clothes she had
brought for me and what was left behind.
Once I finished, I showered and laid on the quilted bed and stared at
the hideous olive ceiling.
The house whispered and groaned as old houses tend to do,
but that was the only noise I could hear.
At least now there weren’t dozens of people invading my house, making
themselves comfortable on my mother’s furniture as if I had invited them into my
seclusion. At least here there were no
intruders who refused to give me peace.
I knew they thought they were helping.
Some things that you think will help, won’t.
Silence in a strange world was better than invasion in my home.
“It isn’t bedtime yet, Regina,” Liddy returned to my room and her mouth
tightened into a thin line. I had been
wrong about being left in peace. I could
tell by the tone in her voice she was already frustrated with my mood, but that
was unavoidable. “Come on downstairs and let me
show you the kitchen, I can give you a little tea that will help you feel a
little better. Maybe we can get that
voice of yours working again, hmmm?”
Liddy started heating water on her stove for tea as I sat
at the table in her eat-in kitchen. The
floors throughout were a dark wood, but the plaster walls had been painted a
bright yellow with matching cabinets. I
watched her with empty eyes while she pulled mismatched teacups from the
cabinets, found a small jar of honey on the counter and placed it all on the
table in front of me.
“I know what you are dealing with right now is
unimaginable,”
she paused to stroke my hand affectionately.
I expected her tanned skin would have softened with age. Instead, her touch felt similar to gritty
sandpaper. I was overcome with the urge
to leave and go back home. I wanted to
shudder at feel of the old woman’s rough skin on my own. “I want to give you a chance to heal, but healing
means moving ahead, Regina. It’s not really considered
living if you’re
holding so tightly onto past instead of living your own life. We’ll find you a way to occupy your thoughts while
you’re here in Foster.”
“It’s too soon,” I whispered without looking into her eyes. Aunt Liddy seemed surprised by my voice.
的 know, dear.・ She raised her voice over the whistling
teapot. 典ake your time, but not too much. The longer you stand still, the harder it is
to walk again.”
I sipped her dark, bitter tea that tasted like watery
coffee, refusing the honey. Only at that
moment did I notice exactly how small Aunt Liddy seemed when she sat beside
me. She appeared so fragile and mild
when you just looked at her. But when
she spoke, her voice was strong, making her seem much taller, as if she might
fill the room by herself. Her graying
hair hung in loose curls down the center of her back. Her eyes were the same brilliant green as my
own, but her dark, leathery skin made them appear even more vivid.
By the time she had poured me a second cup of tea, I
realized I started to feel a little more awake, as if I was in a dark room and
the sun was beginning to filter through the windows. I finished the second cup and Aunt Liddy
smiled, displaying her own satisfaction.
While I felt more alert, it did nothing to put an end to my melancholy
mood.
“Well, you’ve already had a chance to see the house from
the inside. Come on outside with me and
I’ll show you the yard,” she rose from her seat and I
followed her from the heavy wooden back door that lead from a foyer behind her
kitchen to her garden.
The occasional vivid blooms broke the monotony of the
rich green foliage. Red tulips and
yellow daffodils bordered the stone path and vines crept up the white fence,
displaying gentle purple blossoms. What
stunned me was how enormous the garden was.
I never saw so many different plants in one area. Her entire back yard was nearly as large as
the block I grew up on.
“Life is different out here than back in your
city. We have no cable, no malls, no
loud music.”
She watched me as my eyes took in all the open space.
“But everything is so beautiful,” I heard myself say. I couldn’t deny the sense of serenity I felt at that
moment. It seemed rude to speak above a
whisper in the mystical place. The yard
was the only place so far that didn’t irritate me.
“Once you’re feeling up to it, I can teach you how to tend
a garden if you want. Most folks say
that digging in the dirt can be good for your soul.” The corners of her mouth tipped upward as she
led me to a sturdy wooden bench where we both sat. “Or, if you prefer, you can go off and explore
the woods. There aren’t any bears or anything out
there, so it’s
rather safe as long as you stay near the house and on the deer trails. It can be easy to get disoriented once you’re far enough along the path
that you can’t
see the house, especially if you aren’t used to it.”
I hesitated before answering, but Liddy peered over to
me, obviously anticipating an immediate response. I realized that she wouldn’t be satisfied until I gave
her one. Annoyed by her persistence, I
slumped lower in my seat.
“Maybe another day.” I frowned, keeping my eyes down. I didn’t feel up to killing weeds or walking alone in
strange woods. I shuddered to think of
the bugs and creatures I would encounter out here.
“Tomorrow, then,” she nodded as she rose and went inside,
permitting me to finally be left alone with my thoughts.
I sat by myself a while longer, wondering what Mom would
want me to do now that I am here. I
doubt she would have sent me to my aunt’s house a week before graduation. She never got along well with nature. She killed houseplants within days of buying
them, too. Mom loved loud music and
parties and would have hated Aunt Liddy’s quiet farmhouse. I rested my hand on the bench beside me and
wished she had been there to hold it.
A tiny bird bravely flitted out from the woods and
through the open air for a moment, but returned quickly, preferring the safety
the trees offered. I sympathized with
the poor creature, fleeing from a strange and new place to return to the
serenity of its home. I realized the
place I shared with my mom will never be the same, so where can I find my own
comfort? I doubted could find it in
Foster, which might as well have been a million miles from familiar. I knew I wouldn’t find comfort in that old house Aunt Liddy
lived in, the house where I immediately felt so trapped.
My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden tug at my
foot. A little dog with curly white and
brown fur was chewing on my shoe. I
pulled my foot back, but the mutt continued playfully attacking it. His tail wagged so strongly that his entire
back end began to shake back and forth.
I leaned over and patted the dog’s head between his droopy ears, earning me a
lick on my hand. I wondered if he was
Aunt Liddy’s
dog, or if he belonged to one of her neighbors and just came by for a visit.
“I see you’ve met Bruce.” Liddy nodded toward the dog. I hadn't noticed her watching me from the
doorway. “He’s a good dog and he’ll listen to you once he gets to know you, but
sometimes he forgets his manners. Come
inside now for a little dinner.” I waited
to see if she was talking to me or to Bruce, but since she never specified who
she had made dinner for, I figured she was talking to us both.
I glanced up and noticed the sky was still gray with
clouds. I swore that I arrived in the
early afternoon, but the evening sun was barely visible near the treetops of
the forest. I must have sat out in the
garden longer than I realized.
Aunt Liddy placed two large bowls brimming with vegetable
and beef stew on her table. My eyes
widened as I noticed that this little woman was able to eat as much as I
did. Mom always teased me about my
insatiable eating habits. I always ate
twice as much as she did at every meal, but never gained any weight. I began to wonder if it was a family trait I
had inherited from my father.
I bowed my head when she began to say grace. She studied me while we ate, but I only
ignored her. After dinner, Aunt Liddy
refused to allow me to seek the solace of my quiet guest room. She seemed to think interaction and being
outside would magically make me forget the hollow feeling in my chest. We sat on a living room couch in silent
contemplation. I could tell by how she
studied me that she was trying to figure me out. I wouldn’t give her a chance. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone. I just wanted my mom.
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