Whisper by Heather Hildenbrand
New Adult Paranormal Fantasy
Now, after five months at the Skye View Wellness Center, it was summer. A time for parties and friends, but that’s the last thing I want to do. So when my best friend Erin convinces me to attend a bonfire at Eagle Point, I can’t handle the crowd full of sympathetic stares or drunken class clowns who would use my tragedy as a way into my heart – or my pants. The solitude of the woods offers an escape, until I stumble upon a boy, unconscious and bleeding, his pockets stuffed not with identification but with poetry illustrating the beauty of dying. I’ve seen enough death. I will not leave this boy’s side.
Even after he wakes, when the only thing he can remember are visions of events that haven’t happened yet…
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Excerpt;
I still couldn’t
believe Dad’s good news. Months and months of research. Unceasing
energy and determination. I hadn’t allowed myself the belief that
it wouldn’t work. There was too much at stake for the animals.
Especially Dolly. And now she was coming home to live with me instead
of that nasty excuse for a trainer. I’d won!
I ate standing up.
The microwave never cooked evenly so the outside edges were hotter
than the middle. I didn’t care. I was starved. I didn’t even
bother to chew until the fifth bite.
Footsteps in the
hall behind me signaled Tinker must be off the phone. I waited for
him to pick up our previous conversation, or tell me about some part
of his day that I’d missed while stuck inside the walls of
learning. But there was only silence. I turned and found him standing
in the kitchen doorway, his hands limp at his sides and the most
confused expression I’d ever seen on his face.
“Tinker?”
No answer.
He stared at a spot
on the wood-planked wall that bordered the breakfast nook. My eyes
followed his and I found a tiny cross-stitched plaque that read “Home
Is Where the Heart Is” in blue thread. Grandma had sewn it years
before I’d been born.
“Tinker?” I
repeated. “Who was on the phone?”
“A friend of mine,
lives down by Port Creek.” His voice was distant, hollow.
I hadn’t been
worried until the moment our eyes locked. When they did, it felt like
a tidal wave rushing up to meet me. Suddenly, I knew that whatever he
was about to say would be very, very bad.
“Whisper …”
The doorbell rang,
its chime echoing through the otherwise still house. I stared back at
Tinker. Something final rested in his eyes. The only time I’d ever
seen him look like that …
“I’ll get it,”
I said around the lump in my throat.
I tossed the
spaghetti aside and went to the door, sliding carefully by Tinker on
my way. I didn’t want to touch him. It was something about the
energy he gave off, and I knew if I touched him it would infect me.
He didn’t move to follow.
I pulled open the
door and found a man in a dark uniform staring back at me. The shiny
silver buttons on his shirt matched a gleaming badge on his belt
loop. His hat was big enough that, had it been yellow, this could’ve
been a scene from Curious
George Goes to Colorado.
“Ms. Whisper
Grant?” he asked. His thin lips arched into a frown when he spoke.
“Yes?” I said.
Tinker came up behind me. I felt his hand come down heavily onto my
shoulder.
“I’m State
Trooper Nelson. This is Hefley.” He gestured to another man off to
the side, who I hadn’t even noticed, on the porch but away from the
light of the door. His expression matched the first man’s. If they
were going for gentle or caring, the twist in their lip ruined it.
Nelson consulted a
single sheet of paper attached to the clipboard he held. “Says here
your birthday was three weeks ago. You’re eighteen now. Is that
correct?” he asked without looking up.
“Correct,” I
confirmed. “Can I help you?” I asked. I felt the spray of another
approaching wave and braced myself.
“Guess that makes
you the official emergency contact.” He sighed like he’d hoped
for a different answer. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. There
was an accident. On the bridge near Port Creek. A pickup truck went
over the embankment. The vehicle was registered to a Shawn and Anna
Grant. They are your parents, I believe? A man at the scene said he
knew you, gave us your address.”
Tinker’s hand
squeezed into my shoulder.
That’s the last
thing I remember of that night.
In fact, much of the
next few weeks and months that followed is still a blur. Including
the night I downed a pill bottle full of Xanax and went to sleep.
Even after five months at Skye View, I still can’t remember it all.
Over time, it’s become easier to cope with the missing pockets of
time. To cope with the numbing sadness, the raging anger, the quiet
desperation that came out of that moment of loss. But I’m still not
me.
Tinker
said I lost myself. He said it’s what animals do when the pain of
loss is too much to bear. He said one day, I’ll find myself again.
A new me, a version who is able to live despite the loss I’ve
suffered. I told him that sounds like something Grandma would say. He
said he learned it from her, and he’s learning to find himself
again, too.
About the Author:
Author of Across the Galaxy, Whisper, and the Dirty Blood series. I write, read, and fuss at my kids. Oh, and I do laundry, lots of laundry. I’m pretty good at it, too. Sometimes I even read WHILE doing laundry – and fussing at my kids. I’m a multi-tasker. For more information on my books, release dates, or just general stalker material, um, I mean FAN material, visit my website. www.heatherhildenbrand.blogspot.com. I love hearing from readers!
Likes and dislikes? I love vintage tees, hate socks with sandals, and if my house was on fire the one thing I’d grab is my Amazon Fire TV! (oh yeah, I’m a fan of puns.)
Thank you for sharing the excerpt today!!
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