WHAT LURKS BEHIND AN AUTHOR'S MEMORIES? .... CAN YOU GUESS? ...

All is quiet on this crisp morning. Sunlight filters through the trees as bumblebees dart from flower to flower. Each petal a work of art captured in the moment.

Sara’s intricate strokes of dewy melon mirror the scene. A cool chill races up her spine. She lifts her eyes and stares into the tranquil setting. Something dark had been present, but only a doe and her fawn nuzzle the bushes. Sara smiles. I must’ve been imagining it.

She glances downward at her newest creation. The smile from a moment ago contorts and her lower lip quivers.

In the distance, the sun is high over the mountains of Idaho, and bright wildflowers grace the banks of a flowing waterfall. But the canvas portrays a misty, charcoal sky and flowers that bleed red. 

Sarah’s mouth opens into a silent scream as her eyes focus on two sinister orbs, glowing from a shadow hidden in the trees ...

*     *     *     *     *

Dark, fathomless eyes rake the image before him. One final task and the transformation is complete once more. Steady fingers screw intricately carved horns on each side of a stiff brow, and a gargoyle suitable for Notre Dame scowls from the smokey mirror in satisfaction. 

A jagged smile rips through his smooth, hairless face, and inked, reptilian scales caress his naked body. 

“I am coming for you, my angel.” A mirthless laugh escapes his turned up lips.

His hands drip with sweat as his beating heart keeps in time with each step.  A breeze catches his cloak, masking his eyes for a brief moment. The fabric settles at his feet. But something has gone awry. He jerks his head back an forth.

“WHERE IS SHE?” His shrieks resonate throughout the forest. All the woodland creatures scurry in terror. 

Within several heart beats, a pitch shadow looms over the cabin. “She had escaped me,” he roars. The door crumbles. He moves like a panther sniffing through every nook for its prey.

In the back room he locates her art supplies. Muslin draped over a large canvas piques his interest. He delicately removes the covering as a lover would strip away a lacy camisole.

He backs away. His eyes gleam and his ego swells. “I knew we were connected, my angel.” He bows. “I accept your gift.”

In one swift movement, he snatches the painting, leaves the dwelling, and heads outside. He leans the treasure against a large oak. 

As he reaches into his pocket, a smirk crosses his lips. A match ignites and he tosses it onto the wooden front porch. 

“It is time to celebrate.”

Memories of Murder

by

Yolanda Renée

Well today's the day! Yolanda's new book is now available! This is the second in the series. Her first book, Murder, Madness, and Love is the amazing introduction to Yolanda's thrilling world. It's best to start there... Here's the blurb: My first for Yolanda.

Sunlight blazes on an empty canvas.

Arctic winds gather snowflakes on a frosty window ledge as a statuesque form appears. She moves past a table littered with papers. Headlines splash news of murder, but it's the photo of another young woman with features mirroring her own that draws her attention.

A different headline peeks from underneath the Anchorage Times.

Wealthy Businessman Dies in Car Crash ... BLACK WIDOW SUSPECTED!

Graphic images swirl through her head and a tear rolls down her cheek. She drifts toward an easel and a trembling hand dips a sable brush into a palette of paint.

The Westminster doorbell chimes. The brush slips and blood-red paint stains the floor. 

Detective Steven Quaid waits. His Tlingit, Indian features carved from granite, mask his Irish passion ...

Will he arrest her this time? 

All fingers point to her guilt. 

But, is she guilty of this cunning plot? Or, just a victim of circumstantial evidence?

The door opens ...

His eyes lock on hers ... 

His heart races ...

Hers skips a beat.

I hope you enjoyed the intro and blurbs. I really enjoyed working for Yolanda. She truly is a thrilling writer and her stories are so gripping.

Now back to Memories of Murder ...

Blurb:

Decades ago, the seeds were planted …

Today, dark, fathomless eyes rake the image before him. One final task and the transformation is complete. Steady fingers screw intricately carved horns on each side of a stiff brow, and a gargoyle suitable for Notre Dame scowls from the smokey mirror in satisfaction. 

A jagged smile rips through his smooth, hairless face, and inked, reptilian scales caress his naked body. 

A laugh of hideous resonance emanates from his gut as the demons of hell welcome Lucifer into their fold.

In a dungeon-like chamber, his Lilith awaits. The kidnapped daughter of a nun, groomed to fit the final piece in the complex puzzle for world domination. Will Lucifer marry his bride, on the summer solstice? 

Only two things stand in his way ...

His greed ...

And ...

Detective Steven Quaid. 

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Amazon link ... available now!

~ Memories of Murder excerpt

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