TODAY’S REVOLVING BOOK IS THE SUSPENSE/THRILLER/HORROR “THE WIDOW’S WALK” BY CHRISTINE MORGAN
ONLY $2.99 on AMAZON KINDLE: http://tinyurl.com/6ucp8o
AMAZON PRINT ($14.99): http://tinyurl.com/7ujre4b
POSTED FRIDAY FEB. 17, 2012
TITLE: THE WIDOW’S WALK
GENRE: SUSPENSE/THRILLER/HORROR (with romantic elements)
For a young married couple, Erin and Gil, the small coastal town of Blackwater Cove is many things. The seaside; their first home; the beginning of a wonderful new life together; Gil’s chance to work alongside his brother Colby on a fishing boat, a job he loves.
But Blackwater Cove isn’t the idyllic paradise Erin and Gil imagine. Their cozy home is haunted by a tragedy of love betrayed and lost. It is the story of a husband betrayed and a life stolen by the cruel power of the sea. It is a tragedy that spills over into the lives of Erin and Gil. All because Erin has disturbed the power that lies dormant in…
The Widow’s Walk
Christine Morgan may seem normal enough on first glance, but she’s known to her daughter’s friends as the weird mother who throws birthday parties with themes like Fear Factor or Sweeney Todd, has medieval weapons hanging on the walls, and makes classroom visits to talk about writing scary stuff.
Her interests include pirates, Vikings, zombies, superheroes, British comedy, action movies, making nut-people crafts, fantasy role-playing games, cartoons, and horror novels. She also works the overnight shift in a psychiatric facility, which may explain a lot.
CONNECT WITH CHRISTINE ONLIE:
FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE
FACEBOOK PERSONAL PAGE
UPCOMING READINGS/BOOK SIGNINGS
RadCon, February 17th-19th 2012, Pasco WA
World Horror Con, March 29th-April 1st 2012, Salt Lake City UT
Erin sat with both hands on the wheel, feeling like a first-class dope.
Here she was, doing exactly what she had spent all day promising herself she was not going to do. She wasn’t going to let Beatrice Rodlan’s sad delusions get to her. Wasn’t going to be drawn in by one crazy old lady’s senile ravings. It would be as bad as suddenly starting to believe in ghosts, and thinking that the occasional creaks and thumps and phantom cries in the night really were caused by the restless spirit of Annabelle Darrow.
The house looked just like it always did. Just a house. Her house. Nothing weird or unusual about it at all.Well, all right, so it was a little eerie at this exact moment … the fuming somber-grey sky behind it, the wind-lashed trees dripping with rain, the cloud-filtered rays of the sinking sun making the yellowed-ivory trim seem to glow like polished bone … turning the windows into blind, glassy eyes …