Blurb: When twenty-nine year old Ginger discovers the old mansion Summer Wind, she is mysteriously drawn to it. . Immediately, the haunting’s have a negative and profound effect on the family.
Excerpt: The summer of 1971 was a new beginning for Ginger Duncan, a mother of two girls. Eight year old Betsy liked to paint and dreamed of becoming a professional artist. Ten year old Daisy loved animals and wanted to be a veterinarian. The girls had a pet raccoon that they kept in a cage. The animal was a gift from their maternal grandfather, Ralph Weisman.
Ginger had recently wed businessman Mike Duncan. It was her second marriage and his first. The couple wanted a new start and decided to move to the small town of Destiny, located in northern Wisconsin, and buy a home.
* * * *
“We’re almost there, dear,” said the realtor, Lucille Keefer. “It’s just the right size for a small family unless you and your new husband are thinking of having more children.”
“Oh no,” laughed Ginger, cutting off the nosey woman. “Mike is content with being a step-father.”
“Another two miles, and we’ll be there,” said the realtor just as a large ominous looking house overlooking the bay caught Ginger’s eye.
“Who lives there?” she asked, pointing out the car window.
The realtor stopped in the middle of the road and looked. “Oh, that white elephant,” she said with laugh. “I own it, too, but you said a small home for now.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” said Ginger flippantly. “I want to look inside. Do you have the key?”
“Yes…but…” said the realtor.
“Let’s check it out,” said Ginger, interrupting without bothering to look at the realtor.
“Okay, if you insist,” said Lucille, steering her Cadillac in the direction of the two-story white mansion.
As the car pulled into the horseshoe driveway, Ginger marveled at the structure, as if hypnotized by an uncontrollable and unknown force. “This place has great potential. I can feel it.”
“It has something alright,” mumbled the realtor.
THE TRUTH BEHIND THE LIES-laying the Norfolk ghost to rest
Blurb: Solving the brutal murder of American born Ruthie Geil becomes a gauntlet of attacks and more murders for Federal Police Inspector Ian Christian. Between the victims family, ex-lovers, and ghostly occurrences on Norfolk Island, the killer is closer than anyone realizes.
Excerpt: As I drove from the Norfolk airport in my chartered car on that warm windy day in 2003, I steered toward Burnt Pine, the commercial hub of the Island. It had been two years since I stepped foot on this small, but lush islet, one-thousand miles north-east of Sydney, Australia. Being called in to investigate American-born thirty-seven year old Ruthie Geil’s murder, I had the haunting feeling that this case was the case that would make my career.
Before the horrific crime which occurred the previous afternoon, this native land of mine, this tight knit community of sixteen hundred, had only known peace and security. In the blink of an eye, Ruthie’s death put folks on pins and needles. I suspected that feeling would last for years to come.
Norfolk Island was discovered by Captain James Cook on his second voyage to the South Pacific in 1774. Abundant with tall straight trees and New Zealand flax plants, he named the Island after the Duchess of Norfolk. It soon became one of Australia’s most inhumane penal settlements before closing in 1855.
Chief Inspector Talent in my home district in Sydney turned the case over to me when the local Island police force asked for additional help. No one had been murdered there in over a hundred years. As I am a native of the Island, he thought I might have more insight into the locals than someone else on the force.
As I studied the flimsy case file the Chief Inspector gave me, I realized my life and the lives and reputations of every resident on Norfolk could forever change. After dropping off my luggage at the Resort, I drove to the police station. I needed to check in and introduce myself. Also something in the homicide report had set off a red flag. I flashed my badge at the native dispatcher and gave her my name and badge number. “I’m here to help investigate the death of the American. Were there any other crimes that day?”
She thought momentarily, then flipped through a stack of reports. “Only a rental car theft. The car was later recovered from the bottom of a cliff near the Island National Park.”
That was near the area where the body was discovered, the case file said. Was there a connection between the two crimes? “When was the car rented?”
“At 10:30 am.”
“Who rented it?”
She looked again and said, “Ruthie Geil.”
I was stunned at hearing that. Why would my victim rent a car thirty minutes before she went missing? And who drove it off the cliff? “Thank you,” I said with a smile before leaving.
That serene Easter day is where my story began. My name is Ian Christian, and I was the Federal Police Inspector assigned to the case.
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