Coming Soon!
This is week four; plus I've added a few paragraphs since last week. You can catch up here.
Excerpt:
Forcing his attention back to
his job, Mark parallel parked behind the captain’s police-issued Crown Vic. His
eyes darted to the nineteenth-century structure you’d expect to see on a French
countryside, not a Pennsylvania city founded on coal mining. He had an affinity
for old buildings, but not as much as he used to after his last experience
inside an old train station turned restaurant, something Ashlyn and he had
promised never to speak of again.
He exited his cruiser and
glanced up at the edifice with its high slanted roof and dormer gables straight
out of the renaissance era. No gaudy colors, just soft gray limestone and
medina stone. The old building emanated stateliness. The decorative trim over
every door and window beckoned passersby to come in and discover its mysteries.
Pushing through the black-iron
gate, Mark smiled as he remembered coming here when he was a young boy. Every
Saturday morning, Mrs. Davis would gather the students around a massive marble
fireplace for story time. But before she’d start reading, she’d pass the book
around to the students. Each child had to inhale the pages, thereby infusing
the scent and memory as one into their subconscious.
Mark recalled the scent as
having the same rustic aroma of an oak tree after it had fallen in the woods,
reminding him of the couple of times he’d sat next to his father while he’d
hunted. When the breeze had blown just right, a sweet pungent smell of the
rotting wood wafted into the tree stand.
As a boy, he’d thought the old
books were slowly rotting away too, and now the two memories would forever
share space in his heart and soul. He also distinctively remembered a delicate
hint of jasmine. Then again, he’d sat so close to Mrs. Davis, anxious to
receive every word, that it could have been her.
He’d recognized the scent
since his mother had planted jasmine in the backyard. The rambling vine had
spread across the patio and up the fence, filling his summer days with a
memorable scent that would forever remind him of his mother and father sipping
tea on the back porch before dinner.
Mark ran his hands down the smooth
worn wood that framed the door as he entered the library, relishing in the
intricate craftsmanship and design.
As soon as he stepped over the
threshold, though, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen then shot a
questioning look over his shoulder at Davis, holding his phone up as a request
before answering her call. “Ashlyn’s traveling, and I’m a little worried. Do
you mind?”
Davis waved him off. “Nah. Go
ahead. The old man’s dead. He ain’t going anywhere.”
The Library will be available in a few weeks, but if you haven't read the prequel short story, it's available at all eBook retailers FREE! Enjoy!
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Scranton Memorial Library image courtesy of: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/
I promoted your new book in my blog
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Marie! You're awesome! Have a great day, my friend. :)
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