Lay Me to Rest
Some secrets never stay buried for long…Devastated by the death of her husband, Annie Philips is shocked to discover she is pregnant with his unborn child. Hoping for a fresh start, she travels to a remote stone cottage in Anglesey, amidst the white-capped mountains of North Wales.She settles in quickly, helped by her mysterious new neighbour, Peter. But everything changes when Annie discovers a small wooden box, inlaid with brass and mother-of-pearl. A box she was never supposed to find…Annie soon realises that she isn’t alone in the cottage. And now she’s trapped. Can she escape the nightmare that she has awoken, or will the dark forces surrounding the house claim her life – and that of her baby?A gripping thriller from E. A. Clark, perfect for fans of Kerri Wilkinson, Sarah Wray and Stella Duffy. You won’t be able to put it down!
Читать Lay Me to Rest онлайн беплатно
Some secrets never stay buried for long…
Newly widowed Annie Philips is plagued by the memory of her husband. But she carries a larger burden… Weeks after his death, she discovers she is pregnant. When Annie is unable to recover from depression, her sister, Sarah, suggests a healing retreat in the Welsh countryside, recommended by Sarah’s colleague, Peter. It is here that she becomes a house guest of the kind Mr and Mrs Parry – along with the enigmatic Peter. Friendly. Alluring. Mysterious.
As Annie settles in to the Parrys’ home, and grows closer to Peter, she becomes increasingly aware of another presence… a supernatural one. Annie becomes the target of violent disturbances that begin occurring in the house. Until one day, when she is drawn into an open field where she uncovers a box.
A box no one was ever meant to find.
Can Annie solve the mystery she has become tied to? Or will the sinister forces surrounding the house claim her life, and the life of her unborn baby?
Don’t miss this chilling new tale from E. A. Clark, perfect for fans of Amy Cross, Shani Struthers and Andrew Michael Hurley.
Lay Me to Rest
E. A. Clark
ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES
Contents
Endpages
E. A. CLARK lives in the Midlands with her husband and son, plus a rather temperamental cat, a rabbit and a chinchilla. She has three (now grown-up) children and five grandchildren. She is particularly partial to Italian food, decent red wine (or any coloured wine come to that…) and cake – and has been known to over-indulge in each on occasions.
She has a penchant for visiting old graveyards and speculating on the demise of those entombed beneath. Whilst she has written short stories and poetry for many years, a lifelong fascination with all things paranormal has culminated in her first novel for adults, Lay Me to Rest. The setting is inspired by her love of Wales, owing to her father’s Celtic roots.
I would like to thank my family for their patience! Also, the lovely Rayha Rose for her help and invaluable guidance, and the rest of the editorial team at HQ Digital. I am also very grateful to Michelle Magorian for her kind words of encouragement.
This book is dedicated to the memory of my dear mum,
with all my love and thanks for everything she did for us.
We miss you.
July 2009
Anglesey, North Wales
Deep into the night, the rain fell unremittingly. I lay still, listening as it battered the windowpane: a steady, rhythmic thrum. Since childhood, to be safe and warm within had always been a source of comfort to me during a storm, knowing that the angry deluge could not penetrate the walls – that I was protected from even the harshest force of nature.
But suddenly the pattern began to change. The sound was infiltrated by a slow, persistent scratching. As the noise increased in frequency and intensity, heart in mouth, I eased myself from the bed and crossed the room, hardly daring to draw breath as my trembling hand reached for the curtain.
It was happening again. Cold terror surged through my veins as a pair of dark, glowering eyes met my own through the glass. As far as I was from the site of the haunting, it would seem I was to be afforded no respite from her malevolent influence. I could feel her drawing closer. I staggered back from the window, my fear knowing no bounds as I became suddenly enveloped by the familiar incipient chill; inhaled the cloying, musky fragrance that I had come to dread.
I opened my mouth to scream, but my throat was so dry that I could emit no more than a pitiful croak. It was inconceivable that I should find myself once more in this position; the previous disturbing encounters of the supernatural had been enough for anyone’s lifetime. I had foolishly believed myself beyond harm here; that she should have followed me was unthinkable. Was there no refuge to which I could safely retreat?
My hands shook violently as I tried desperately to turn the key in the lock; but it was stuck fast. I whipped round, panic-stricken now, my back pinned to the door. Through the gloom I could still discern the menacing presence, initially a pallid shadow against the opposite wall, shapeless and pulsating. But I could feel her getting closer. Even without seeing clearly, I knew without doubt who she was. She exuded loathing and contempt, sentiments for which I had apparently become the sole focus.
The walls seemed to close in on me now. My heart hammering, my breath came in shallow, rasping gasps as I watched the silhouette become ever clearer and more recognizable. The mocking eyes seemed to penetrate my very soul. Despite my best efforts, my feet remained inert. I felt the ground draw me like a magnet. Instinctively, I cradled my stomach; the room swam as she seemed to surround me.
