Read Unfinished Death for Free Online Page B
Authors: Laurel Dewey
stunning accuracy, but she couldn’t grasp how that was possible.
Something tugged on her memory—something safe and gentle. But every time she tried to grasp the feeling and give it dimension and meaning, it evaporated. Jesus, the booze really is taking its toll.
Turning to the window that looked down on 13th Street, she abruptly felt an uneasy clench in her gut. There was a little girl and there was darkness around her. And there was so much blood. But then the vision dissolved and she was numb and dead again, staring out the window and wondering how many inane questions she’d have to answer downstairs.
“They’re ready for us, Jane.” She turned to see Chris standing there. “You might want to fix your hair,” he added.
Everything moved in slow motio,n as Jane reached inside her leather satchel and pulled out various items in an attempt to find a hairbrush. She felt around for the brush and, once locating it, had to disentangle it from her cell phone charger before pulling it out of the satchel. But there was something else stuck between the combs on the brush.
Lifting the brush out of the satchel, she found a single stick of incense. Somebody must have dropped it in my bag by mistake, she decided.
She wasn’t sure why, but the sandalwood scent made her feel safe.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
The Story Plant
The Aronica-Miller Publishing Project, LLC
P.O. Box 4331
Stamford, CT 06907
Copyright © 2009 by Laurel Dewey
eISBN : 978-1-611-88018-2
Visit our website at www.thestoryplant.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by U.S. Copyright Law. For information, address The Story Plant.
First Story Plant Paperback Printing: April 2011
Something tugged on her memory—something safe and gentle. But every time she tried to grasp the feeling and give it dimension and meaning, it evaporated. Jesus, the booze really is taking its toll.
Turning to the window that looked down on 13th Street, she abruptly felt an uneasy clench in her gut. There was a little girl and there was darkness around her. And there was so much blood. But then the vision dissolved and she was numb and dead again, staring out the window and wondering how many inane questions she’d have to answer downstairs.
“They’re ready for us, Jane.” She turned to see Chris standing there. “You might want to fix your hair,” he added.
Everything moved in slow motio,n as Jane reached inside her leather satchel and pulled out various items in an attempt to find a hairbrush. She felt around for the brush and, once locating it, had to disentangle it from her cell phone charger before pulling it out of the satchel. But there was something else stuck between the combs on the brush.
Lifting the brush out of the satchel, she found a single stick of incense. Somebody must have dropped it in my bag by mistake, she decided.
She wasn’t sure why, but the sandalwood scent made her feel safe.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
The Story Plant
The Aronica-Miller Publishing Project, LLC
P.O. Box 4331
Stamford, CT 06907
Copyright © 2009 by Laurel Dewey
eISBN : 978-1-611-88018-2
Visit our website at www.thestoryplant.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by U.S. Copyright Law. For information, address The Story Plant.
First Story Plant Paperback Printing: April 2011
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