I estimate the completion of my latest project to be two to three weeks from now. The Cast Down series are books that can be read independently or in any order but are tied together by common location and characters who cross over from one novel to the others. The series is set in a fictionalized version of the New England town where I grew up. A town that still haunts me. Names and some details have of course been changed but long time residents will still be able to identify some of the landmarks and places. The following is a teaser from the novel “Remnants”. Just a reminder, if you have Kindle Unlimited you can read any of my books for free. They are also available in paperback.
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The stench of rotting flesh filled the room. Dana clapped a hand over her face, trying to stifle her gags and shivered violently as the temperature dropped from a cozy 68 degrees to what felt like an arctic blast. Suddenly every radio on the coffee table lit up and chirped, over and over and a multitude of voices came through them at once, as if every voice in hell called her name simultaneously.
Without stopping for boots or a jacket, Dana bolted to the door, yanked it open and fled into the snowy night, still clutching her cell phone in her hand. Behind her she could hear the cacophony of voices calling her name, and the laughter of a small child over all of them. Halfway to the main house she slipped in her stocking feet and landed face first in a snowdrift. Shocked by the cold she lay there for a moment, shaking in fear.
That didn’t just happen. That couldn’t have just happened. There were no voices on those radios. There couldn’t be. Dear God, am I losing my mind?
“What the hell am I doing?” she asked out loud as she struggled to her feet, now soaking wet and freezing cold. She could see the light from the cottage streaming through the windows and the open door. Janet’s going to think I’m on drugs if I show up at her door at this hour, looking like this.
Her teeth chattered as she turned herself around and started walking back to the cottage. “I can go to Janet’s. I just can’t show up like this,” she reasoned. “Dry off, change my clothes, put some boots on…”
She was three or four paces from the front door when the lights in the cottage went out. The fetid smell wafted out of the open front door and she heard heavy footsteps on the wooden floors within.
“Jesus Christ,” she blurted out as she turned on her numb feet and ran for her life towards the lights of the main house.
Tracy Petry 