Recent ‘animal attacks’ in Shiver Cove have everyone on edge, but only Sandi and her friends realize the connection to an evil, creature they call ‘The Beast’.
Unlike some of her supernatural friends, Sandi is just a regular girl and she hates it. After failed months of trying to become a psychic medium, she decides to go in another direction. Secretly, Sandi begins to learn about magic.
When she discovers the concept of vision quests it seems like the perfect way to safely learn more about ‘The Beast’, although nothing ever goes smoothly in Shiver Cove.
The vision quest ends with Sandi in the hospital, leaving her explaining how she didn’t try to kill herself. Desperately she attempts to piece together any useful information from the vision.
Sandi pulls herself together just as the psychic side effects of her near-death experience begin to haunt her. Could her new found abilities help in their quest to stop ‘The Beast’ or will she have to step away to protect the ones she loves?
Targeted Age Group:: Young Adult, teen
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
Halfway through writing the 1st book I knew I wanted to do a series. I decided that a series with a book from each of the main character’s points of view would be fun. There are 7 books in the Shiver Cove series and book 7 actually begins from the perspective of the elusive Beast the friends have been chasing.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Part 3 focuses on Sandi. She’s the keeper of secrets. Something I was terrible at, at her age. She is the ideal friend. Where I ask a million questions, Sandi simply supports. When Tamyra arrived in Shiver Cove I decided she needed a genuine friend who wouldn’t push too much about the werewolf stuff. Sandi sort of evolved into a full blown person with quirks and passions. In Part 3 you really get to see more development for this character.
Book Sample
Chapter 1
As the mist cleared, Sandi Anderson wondered where she was. Mist? She shook her head, and steadied herself. Weird. She didn’t know how off-balance she felt until slight vertigo dizzied her.
Gentle waves rippled across her vision, almost dreamlike. She giggled at the thought, but no sound escaped her. Where was she? Something reverberated in her mind, the lack of sound should bother her and then the thought slipped away.
Green, green grass. But it’s winter. As soon as she remembered the season, the scene before her shifted. Pale snow clung to sparse brown grass. Fresh snow fell. She delighted, raising her face to the sky. Sandi spread her arms and twirled. Her long red hair flew as she spun. Strange, her bare toes weren’t cold.
Bare toes? She looked to her feet only to confirm they were bare. Where am I? As she snapped her head up to look around, white spots danced across her vision. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as the little dots merged and danced with the snowflakes.
Focus. Why couldn’t she focus? Where… Her eyes picked out a single snowflake as it descended. She trailed it as it fluttered and drifted to her feet. Even after it landed she could still make out its perfect outline amongst the others. So pretty.
Purpose. My purpose here. My purpose here is to… to… see something? See what? Pretty snow. No. That’s not right. Sandi fought to gain control of her mind.
I came here to see it. See what? Not snow. She closed her eyes and reached inside. Her mission was… Why aren’t my feet cold? Connect with me. I need to connect with me. This place has too much power.
Sandi sunk down to the ground and sat. She brought her bare feet up under her knees, cross-legged and rested her hands on her thighs. She resisted the urge to open her eyes and drew in a deep breath. As she let it go, she recalled the rhodonite stone in her pocket.
Sandi envisioned the smooth pink stone with its black veins, brought along for memory or not to lose memory in this place. She slipped one hand into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the stone. Instantly her mind cleared and she remembered.
Sandi opened her eyes and surveyed the plane of her vision quest. Lines, like heat on an open road, meandered their way through her sight. Nothing appeared real. The snow almost seemed like cartoon-snow now she remembered her quest.
‘The Beast’. Sandi had to see ‘The Beast’. She had to know the enemy they faced. In this safe place of illusion she harbored no fear of harm or being seen by ‘The Beast’s’ physical self. The Shaman promised a vision and here she stood inside one, with no threat of anyone knowing she’d visited this place.
Sandi clenched the stone tight as she stood up. Wanting to keep contact with the rhodonite, yet keep it safe; she stashed it in her bra. Unconcerned with the cold or hurting bare feet, she began to walk. Instinct pulled her towards a familiar building. Nothing she could solidly identify, just familiar.
Green metal cylinders rose from the ground behind the building and she wondered if they were her mental image for pine trees. As the words ‘pine trees’ registered the cylinders sprouted branches and elongated into proper coniferous trees. Somehow she knew the building and the area, yet her mind wouldn’t allow her to recall the memory.
Sandi reached the corner of the building and the trees seemed to leap back. Something lay between her and the tree line. Someplace she felt she should know. She fished a hand inside her shirt and rubbed the stone. Nothing registered. White pillows rose up out of the ground ahead of her. Pillows? Maybe I need to rest? Or maybe they’re hills of snow?
Grrrr. Things weren’t going the way she expected. So much to interpret. A shot of ‘The Beast’. That’s all that was promised. The rest was… well… just filling… or it could have some profound meaning in her life? Or maybe not? In her past, dealings shamans were tricky and they didn’t always deliver what one expected.
She brought her feet together, drew her spine straight and then paused. Could she do a spell within a vision? Sandi huffed out a frustrated breath. The pillows started to look good to her.
She scanned the forest beyond the pillow-field for any sign of ‘The Beast’. The only movement came in the form of white bubbles drifting to the ground. So much for the snow.
She pivoted in a half circle to her left, looking for anything. A dark patch on the ground moved. A shadow! The shadow of a door fell upon the ground and inched outward from the building she stood by. Huh?
Then the door crept silently open, following its shadow. The play of light seemed all wrong. Why would the door trail its shadow? Sandi stared for what seemed like forever, until the door opened all the way. Her intuition screamed ‘danger’! Sandi ducked around the side of the building as a foot appeared through the door. Her gaze didn’t leave the emerging figure as she tucked her body safely out of sight.
A second foot stepped out. The foot only inches from the ground took what could have been five minutes before it touched the ground on tiptoe. As Sandi watched, she noticed how the foot rolled back to the heel. Backwards! I’m watching this backwards! In slow motion! She risked looking away from the person for a second. The white bubbles no longer drifted, frozen in mid-air.
As Sandi pulled her eyes back to the figure, she noticed a huge blood-red puddle slowly pulling back into its center. Blood-red… blood-red… blood. Bile rose in her throat and she prayed she wouldn’t be able to see a body. She placed a hand over her mouth and turned back to the person rewinding from the building.
A blast of wavy lines filled her vision and obscured the frame of the person. A human-ish shape continued to back out into the open and suddenly she didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know. Sandi reached with her right hand and twisted a patch of skin inside her left arm.
Wake-up! Wake-up! Come on Sandi! Get me out of here! She gripped her flesh harder and sank her nails in. Self-inflicted pain should have worked. Why was she still here? She let go of her bicep and whipped her hand across her cheek.
Just before her eyes snapped shut she caught a blurred image of a figure with red running from its talons. Her eyes flicked open and reality rushed in at her. The smells of her bedroom and home flooded her senses. Sandi tipped forward from her cross-legged position, blew out her beeswax candle and then threw-up on her carpet.
Her hand trembled as she lifted it to her mouth. Not just her hand, her whole body shook. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and gagged. Nausea blasted through her again and she swallowed hard to try and prevent herself from being sick.
She crawled back from the pile of vomit on the floor. Shaky arms and legs threatened to give out. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth and she looked about for something to drink. Sandi couldn’t see anything liquid nearby. She reached out a hand and grasped onto the footboard of her bed. Beads of sweat coated her upper lip and temples as she hauled herself upright.
Sandi lingered, holding on to the wooden poster of her bed. Chills crawled up her spine, neck and scalp and then radiated to the rest of her body. Something had gone seriously wrong.
Sandi was in trouble.
“Dad.” Came out in a raspy whisper.
“Dad.” Not much louder than the first time.
She knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her over the TV downstairs. Her legs wobbled and she gripped the bed tighter. With the swaying motion her stomach rolled and the contents of her stomach hit the bedspread.
So cold. She shuddered. Sandi could barely maintain a hold on the bed. Her robe lay on the bed with puke decorating one of the cuffs. Too cold to care about the mess, she picked the robe up and tried to put it on. As she let go of the bed, she fell.
“Dad.” Again her voice had no strength.
Sandi struggled to her hands and knees and crawled to her bedroom door. Using the doorknob, she pulled herself into a hunched over standing position and managed to open the door.
The smell of stale cigarettes overwhelmed her in the hallway and her stomach purged again. Warm, wet bile spilled over her bare toes and she heaved a couple more times. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Dad. Please, Dad. Help me.” As the words left her, Sandi knew her father couldn’t have heard her.
The ugly green and brown wallpaper of her upstairs hallway passed in a blur as Sandi pushed along the wall to the top of the stairs. She paused at the head of the staircase as chills forced their way through her again. Sandi needed her dad. The scared little girl inside made her sit down on the top step and scoot down them on her bum.
Finally on the first floor, Sandi wiped icy sweat from her forehead. “Dad?”
“You calling me?”
“Dad. Help.”
She heard her father’s footsteps.
“Sandra? You alright?”
As her father came into view, she only could utter one word: “Hospital.”
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