Full Circle
by
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1985
Something was disturbing my peace, tickling at the edges. Light without hope gathering at the corners of my consciousness. Cold. Pitiable. Lonely. Growing. Dissolving the warm safe darkness. Suffocating my soul. A woman, pretty and young with empty eyes and strawberry hair. A man reaching for her, straining to get closer. Aching to bridge the gap with just a gentle touch. She sees him but is powerless to help herself, or him.
I jolted awake. The soft moonlight streaming through my window jarred me. Opening my eyes to it was like slamming into a radiant, glowing wall. Numbed from the familiar and hated cold, I wrapped myself tightly in an old comforter I kept handy at the foot of my bed. Even in Southwest Florida I felt the need of my old talisman. My five-year-old chocolate lab, Dutch, tentatively placed a paw on the edge of the bed seeking to reassure me. His warm brown eyes pleaded to help me. His low growl turned into a pitiful whine.
“It’s okay, boy,” I lied, reaching out to ruffle his thick brown coat.
I slipped onto the floor with my comforter and welcomed him into its feathery folds with me. I couldn’t ignore the pale, drawn face that stared back at me from the full-length mirror in the corner. For once that mirror didn’t remind me of any excess baggage attached to my backside. Rich chestnut hair, wild and tangled, framed my face and pure terror reflected from my grandmother’s blue eyes.
“I know, I know, our visitors scare you as much as they do me,” I soothed, closing my eyes and placing my smooth, icy forehead against his furry warm one. These two intruders were just the latest. I thought I was finally free of these other-worldly interlopers since finally uncovering the truth about my friend Dennis, but apparently that wasn’t to be. What could it be now? Oh, God, what could these sorrowful, hollow tendrils from hell be seeking from me this time?
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About the Book
It looks like someone left the door to the nether region open again, and reporter Molly Martindale has got another batch of otherworldly supplicants who need her help.
Not long ago, Molly quite literally went to hell to help secure peace for her friend Dennis, who was born Buddy Parker in the 1920s in her beloved, adopted hometown of Oxbow, Florida. Oxbow has always felt charmed to Molly—that is, if she doesn’t count the ghostly visitors who turn her world upside down or the recent return of her ex-boyfriend Greg Richards, who brings with him the scourge of illicit drugs and a burning need to get even with her.
Molly is working on acquainting her best friend Dana with Dennis’s memory. He is the father Dana has never known but always resented. Molly must tread carefully, all too aware that she could easily lose her best friend in the process. What’s more, things heat up when Dana meets Glenn Morrison, the wheelchair-bound veteran Molly kind of thinks of as “hers.” But soon Molly finds herself threatened from all sides, as residents of hell plead for her help yet again.
In this sequel to Bitter Secrets, only time will tell if she can deal with worldly and supernatural problems as she fights her newest unholy foes—the advent of drugs into her world, decades of lies involving the powerful St. Claire family, and the shadows of her past.
About the Author
Patty Brant honed her writing skills as a small-town newspaper reporter and editor in a rural South Florida county. Born in Canton, Ohio, she lives with her husband and daughters in Clewiston, Florida. Her first book, Bitter Secrets, earned a finalist position in the 2013 Indie Excellence Book Awards.