Download PDF by Barbara Michaels: Be Buried in the Rain

By Barbara Michaels

ISBN-10: 0060878215

ISBN-13: 9780060878214

ISBN-10: 0061437344

ISBN-13: 9780061437342

There are bad secrets and techniques from generations earlier buried at Maidenwood. scientific pupil Julie Newcomb has lower back to her family's decaying plantation—the web site of such a lot of painful formative years memories—to are likely to her tyrannical grandmother, felled via a stroke. the fireplace of malevolence nonetheless burns within the merciless, despotic matriarch's eyes—yet, for Julie, a faint spark of redemption and moment possibilities glints during this hated, haunted position. yet her hope—and her life—are heavily threatened by means of a nightmare reborn . . . and through the bleak discovery at the lonely street to Maidenwood of the earth-browned skeletons of a mom and baby.

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But Mrs. Danner had closed and locked the kitchen door when she left, and the only reason why it should be open now was because Shirley had gone outside—and had not returned. What could she be doing in the dusk-shrouded, empty kitchen yard? The clouds had closed in again. It was dark outside—how dark, only those who have lived in an area without street lights and nearby houses can possibly realize. I put the groceries on the table and tiptoed to the door. Shirley was there. Or someone was there…I could see a crouched darkness beyond the porch steps; it was still, but not silent.

I did what I could to retrieve my dignity, trying to ignore the treacherous warmth that was spreading from his hand, up my arm and shoulder, into my body. “Yes, thanks, I’m fine. I’d better get back to the house. ” He hadn’t changed. He was the only person I had seen who had not changed. Bareheaded, his hair darkened and sleeked by wet, he towered over me by almost eight inches. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, buttoned up to the neck—you don’t wander Virginia’s woods with your muscles bared, not if you have any concern about poison ivy, mosquitoes, ticks, chiggers, and brambles.

It was all I could do not to wrench open the car door and jump in. three The evening wasn’t quite that bad. The lights flickered and dimmed periodically but the power did not go off. Thunder rattled the windowpanes and rolled among the trees. I cringed when a particularly violent crash shook the house like a cannonball dropped onto the roof, and I could have sworn Martha’s watching eye brightened. By the weekend I felt as if I had been there forever. I didn’t mind the morning duty so much, but I really dreaded the evening round.

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Be Buried in the Rain by Barbara Michaels

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