A Breath Away - Softcover

Herron, Rita

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0373770308 ISBN 13: 9780373770304

Publisher: HQN, 2005

Synopsis

A Breath Away by Rita Herron released on Apr 26, 2005 is available now for purchase.

About this title

About the Author

Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded storytelling to kids for writing romance. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero. She loves to hear from readers, so please visit her website, www.ritaherron.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

A Breath Away

By Rita Herron

HQN Books

Copyright © 2005 Rita Herron
All right reserved.
ISBN: 0373770308

Twenty Years Later

HE HAD COME BACK to get her. She heard the sound, breath against bone?.

Violet bolted upright from a dead sleep and searched the darkness. She'd known this day would come. That he'd find her and kill her just as he had Darlene.

Shadows from the room clawed at her. A reedy, whistling sound rippled in her ears. What was it? An animal crying? No, it was lower, softer but sharp.

Almost like?like the sound she'd heard the night Darlene died.

Had the sound been in her dreams or was someone really outside this time?

She flicked on the fringed lamp, searching the room, angry that she still hadn't conquered her fear of the dark. Or storms. She had dreamed of Darlene's death a thousand times over the years. And that noise — she'd heard it before, too.

But never like this.

Not like it was right outside, coming nearer.

And this dream was different. In her earlier night-mares, Darlene had remained the same sweet, redhaired child. This time the victim had been a woman.

What did it mean? Was the evil back? Was it inside Violet?

Or was her subconscious aging Darlene so she could see what her friend might have looked like if she'd lived? Violet dropped her head into her hands. Or maybe her grief and guilt had finally robbed her senseless, and she'd lost her mind.

Outside, ocean waves crashed against the Savannah shore. The wind howled off the coast, rain splattering against the roof of the cottage she and her grandmother had rented a few months ago when they'd moved to Tybee Island.

The wind had seeped through the thin panes and weathered wood, causing the whistling sound. That was the logical explanation.

The only explanation.

Sweat-soaked and shaking, Violet tugged the quilt around her legs. The clock chimed midnight. The steady crashing of the waves faded into a hypnotic drone. But her heart pounded in her chest like ancient Indian war drums. The last time she'd had a psychic vision or heard voices in her head had been twenty years ago. The day her father had sent her away. The day her best friend had died.

It couldn't be happening again.

Although a few times in a crowded room she'd experienced strange sensations — odd snippets of a stranger's voice whispering in her head — she'd written them off as her overactive imagination. And on a date in Charleston, she'd sensed something dangerous about the man. It was almost as if she'd met him before. As if he'd known more about her than he was telling.

She tossed aside the covers and padded barefoot across the braided rug, then stared through the windowpane at the moonless night. Her fingers toyed with her half of the Best Friends necklace she had shared with Darlene. The rain and fog rolling off the shore obliterated the normally crystal images of the cove and the constellations. Ominous shadows tore at her self-control. It was almost as if someone was watching her.

As if the past had returned to haunt her.

No. Tomorrow marked the twentieth anniversary of Darlene's death. Thoughts of Darlene always dominated Violet's mind at this time of year. Like an obsession that grew stronger, the incessant guilt dogged her like a demon.

Yet as she looked into the inky sky, fear snaked through her and she sensed that it was only the beginning. That just as the tides changed in the ocean, they were about to change in her life.

Just like everything had changed that horrible day when she was eight years old, and she'd stood by and let her best friend die.

"ARE YOU ALL RIGHT this morning, dear?" With gnarled fingers Violet's grandmother gripped the coffee cup painted with magnolia blossoms, and slid into a kitchen chair. "You look tired."

Violet shrugged, pushing away her half-eaten piece of dried toast. "I didn't sleep well."

"Having nightmares again?"

She nodded, her gaze straying to the rain still drizzling in soft sheets onto the beach sand outside. "It's that time of year, I suppose."

Sympathy lined her grandmother's face. "I know it's hard, Violet. Try not to dwell on the past, though."

Violet nodded, resigned. She wouldn't upset her grandmother by confessing about the voices. She was twenty-eight now, independent and strong. She'd even invested in a gift shop in downtown Savannah, Strictly Southern, determined to plant roots and build a life here. She'd save some money, buy this cabin and fix it up for herself and her grandmother. In fact, she'd already mapped out the first decorating plans: she'd paint the fading, chipped walls yellow; sew some frilly curtains; add a window seat by the bay window so she could bask in the sunlight there to read and draw.

And maybe she would finally escape the ghosts. "I'm going to the shop for a while. Do you need anything?"

Her grandmother pointed to the list on the butcher block counter. "Thanks, dear. I hate that I can't get about like I used to."

"You're doing fine, Grammy." Violet patted her hand, then scraped the dry toast into the trash, a twinge of anxiety pulling at her. The doctor had cautioned Violet about her grandmother's high blood pressure and irregular heartbeat. Occasionally she suffered memory lapses, and her arthritis was becoming more of a problem.

At one time, Violet had told her grandmother everything. Had shared her fears, all her nightmares, the bitter sense of loss that had eaten at her over the years when her father had never called or visited.

"Maybe you'll find a nice young man here in Savannah," Grammy said with a teasing smile. "Get married, make me some great-grandbabies."

"Maybe." Violet feigned a smile for her grand-mother's benefit, although she didn't foresee marriage or a man in her near future. If her own father hadn't loved her, how could someone else? Besides, her fail-ures with men were too many to count. The psychologist she'd finally spoken with about her phobia of the dark had suggested she was punishing herself for Darlene's death by denying her own happiness. So she had forced herself to accept a few dates.

But Donald Irving, the man in Charleston, had given her the creeps. When she'd refused to see him again, he started showing up at odd times, calling at all hours of the night. Then the hangup calls?

Her grandmother had become so distraught, Violet had finally agreed to move.

Violet had no plans for marriage or men. She had been a loner most of her life.

And she probably always would be.

"Oh, my goodness." Her grandmother paled. "Did you see this, Violet?"

Continues...

Excerpted from A Breath Awayby Rita Herron Copyright © 2005 by Rita Herron. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Edition details

• Publisher: HQN
• Publication date: 2005
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0373770308
• ISBN 13: 9780373770304
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• Number of pages: 384