Celebrate Ebook Week! VICTORY COVE on sale for $1.49

 Sometimes the back cover of a book doesn't give the reader a solid idea of what is inside those covers. I like to share excerpts.  Here is a little taste of VICTORY COVE

At Smashwords for $1.49 http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/7274 Mar 7-13

http://www.amazon.com/Victory-Cove-ebook/dp/B0030IM7BY

Closing the trunk and hoisting it under her arm, she reached with the flashlight to throw the latch open as the door ripped from her hands and the Atlantic screamed at her.

She screamed back.

Even with the collar pulled up over her ears, the myriad sounds of the tempest assaulted Megan. In the wind, she heard the ghostly woman crying, the phantom that besieged her at night. Outside of Wakefield’s dark chambers, the cry took on a hollow sound, like a woeful moan meant to lure you towards its source...the yawning black shadows beyond the cliff’s edge.

Megan also heard the anxious murmur of ice and snow, like a thousand voices whispering about her, berating her, cajoling her. Amidst their dissonance, one voice broke through.

“Margaret.”

Megan’s body jerked and the radio fell to the ground. It wasn’t the storm that called her name. She spun around and instinctively crouched, prepared to attack, but she did not have her trusty Glock. She had nothing but her bare hands and a flashlight.

“Margaret.” That chilled voice called again.

Megan whirled and saw his outline. Night swelled into the menacing form of a man. There were no distinct features, only a shadow—a frightening profile that looked as if the storm had taken its vivacity and breathed life into this very monster.
The man spoke in a somber cadence that masked the scream of the gale. “I’ve been looking for you.”

All her preparation for this moment was whisked away by the wind. Even now, Megan felt the tug of that strong coastal current drawing her towards the cliff’s edge with a pull of deadly proportions. Her cry was one of denial, or perhaps madness.