HISTORY JUST MAY REPEAT ITSELF ...

A paint-worn VW bug sputters it way along LA’s Sunset Blvd. Highly ornate gates intermingle with lush foliage as Joanna passes the final elusive mansion. She turns right into a paved coral driveway. A highly polished gold L reflects from the early morning sun and temporarily blinds her. She rolls down the window and presses the buzzer.

“I’m here,” she says. Her tone less than thrilled.

The gate opens as if an invisible hand brushes the coal, black iron to the side.

She shifts into gear and accelerates. A great fart of smoke blasts out from the tailpipe and she propels forward down a winding drive. Ancient maple trees umbrella overhead and shade the thousands of bright pink New Guinea impatiens, edging the road.

As she pulls up to the three-story coral stone mansion memories of her childhood flash through her mind. Countless holidays she had spent here, forced to entertain the rich. So what if I had talent. I hated every minute of those guitar and voice lessons.

She breaks, and a rusty squeak plays a high C. She steps out, dreading the inevitable, and climbs each stair as more images flood her mind with unpleasant memories. 

Pulling in a deep breath, she presses the glowing ringer. The haunting sound of Westminster chimes echo within the entry. An aged hand fights the heavy oak door, but wins the battle. Smiling, a weathered face with bright, shiny eyes, meet Joanna’s. 

“Good morning, Miss,” he croaks. “It has been too long.”

Joanna fights the urge to wrap her arms around the gentle butler. He had always been kind to her. “Yes, Geoffrey. It has.”

“Eight years now. Is it not?” 

Joanna studies his beaming face. Deeper lines had etched into his skin, adding softness to his angular features. “Yes.” She smiled. “The years have been kind to you.”

“Thank you, Miss. Please follow me. He is waiting for you on the back patio.”

“Thanks, Geoffrey. I know the way. I’ll see you later.” Joanna buttons her lab coat, tucks a loose hair behind her ear, and ever so slowly heads down the a vast hall. 

With each ten or so steps, visuals of the late, great Sean Lyon plasters the white-washed walls. Her stomach lurches as she glances at the final picture. The frame is different than the others.  She cringes at the image of her teenage self holding a vintage guitar embossed with a platinum L. Nice try. You’re losing your touch ... like that’s a going to change my mind. 

She continues down another corridor and through the French doors. She spots a man hiding behind a Rollingstone magazine. As she approaches the silver in his hair is more prominent and overpowers what little black remains. 

Joanna stands tall and clears her throat. The man lowers the magazine and his eyes Ex-ray her from top to bottom. He shakes his head. “Such a waste. A scientist no less. With the blood of Sean Lyon coercing through your veins.”

“Don’t start, uncle. You know I hate everything about the music industry.”

“You have such talent Joanna.”

“It’s your dream ... not mine. What do you want?”

He continues taking in her appearance. His eyes linger on the lab coat and remains silent.

“I was shocked when your secretary called me. You cut me out of you life ages ago. Remember?”

“Such hostility. I had no choice. But ... that’s ancient history. Your obsession with science will be useful to me now.”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?”

“It’s about our family,” he growled. “And whether you like it or not, Joanna, you are part of this family.” He locks his eyes on hers. “I want to clone Sean Lyon.”

Joanna’s jaw drops ...

Will Joanna take part in her uncle’s lunacy? And if so, what will be the consequences? So many questions ...

SO few answers ...

Until now ...

SANDRA ULBRICH ALMAZON’S, Lyon’s Legacy.

Available as an ebook from Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords; in paperback from Createspace and Amazon; and as an audiobook from Amazon.

Now this is one freakish story. Time travel, cloning, mysterious ancestry. I’m hooked. Aren’t you? Sandra certainly has a compelling premise with this story. I certainly got caught up in the intro, I apologize for it’s length, but for some odd reason I needed to build up this story. I hope you enjoyed my interpretation.

Thanks for stopping by everyone and have a great weekend!