Sunday, October 26, 2014

CRIMSON SUMMER A New Adult Story - Hauntings from the Garden by Cecilia Farrell #Rafflecopter

Crimson Summer

Hauntings in the Garden from TWRP
What Carrick County’s powerful Phelan family want, they usually get, whether that’s land like the Fitzgerald farm, or women, like the Fitzgerald girls. Handsome Liam can’t tempt Ranalt, whose heart belongs to neighbour Colin Sweeney. But his older brother Rory attracts her sister Lacey like a magnet draws steel.When the boys and their father Patrick visit Joe and Sheila Fitzgerald with a mysterious offer, all hell breaks loose. A furious Joe orders the Phelans off his property and away from his daughters, warning he knows what to do about ‘their kind’. Soon afterwards, Fitzgerald fences are slashed and cattle lie torn apart. Coincidence or cause for fear?There are secrets in Carrick County people don’t dare reveal. But Ranalt will risk everything to protect her family, the man she loves and the little girl she adores. Each turn of the summer moon brings danger and in the shadows, something waits...
Werewolf, New Adult, suspense
Rating: Spicy
Page Count: 57
Word Count: 14500
978-1-62830-564-7 Digital
The line went dead.
“Where’s your cell?” I asked Colin.
“Lost it a few days ago.” His eyes fluttered.
“Papa keeps waking up and falling asleep,” Juniper said.
We had to get out of there.
I shook him gently. “Colin, do you think you could make it to the car? I’ll park as close as I can.”
“I think so.”
I felt for my keys, then realized in my rush to get inside I’d left them in the ignition. Stupid, stupid, stupid. A glance out the window revealed what I feared.
I made myself smile a little. “Junie, is poor Meg still on the floor? I bet she could use a hug.” 
As soon as Juniper left, I whispered to Colin my car was gone.
“We can take my truck. It’s in the garage. The key is in the blue dish on the kitchen counter. If it’s not there, I’ve got a spare in the garage. On a nail under the window sill.”
Surprisingly, the key was in the dish. I squeezed it in my hand as I sprinted to the garage. Maybe our luck was changing.
Colin’s pickup was there. With three slashed tires.
“Oh God,” I whispered. 
It was almost dark, the last streaks of sunset dying. And the moon was full tonight. Soon it would be the wolf’s time.
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