Excerpt:
The shoe hit the door and chipped off a
flake of white paint. Only when the shoe fell to the floor did Hanna
realize what she had just done. She looked at her shaking hands as if
they belonged to someone else. Then she slumped onto the bed crying.
There was a hole inside her chest. A huge dark hole…a loss, she had lost something. Hanna turned to the doll. She wished she could hug it and make the pain go away. The eighteenth-century doll, with its delicate features, diamond tiara and yellow-laced gown, was all she had left of her mother. That doll gave Hanna great comfort every day. It was her mother Marie watching over her. Marie, a descendant of the French aristocracy, had died in childbirth. On Hanna’s fifth birthday, her grandfather John II had brought the doll and placed it on the mantelpiece. For ten years it hadn’t been moved, so she thought. How could this happen? Now her doll looked like a cheap prop from a B-horror film. Hanna shuddered. Oh, my God, she’d shuddered? Was shuddering contagious?
Maybe Vani was right, but not about the doll. There was something evil going on. Something evil had broken her doll. The shutters banged again, making Hanna jump. She stared at the window and wiped her face. She had locked those shutters before going to bed. She was sure of it. Hanna stood and walked over to the window. She pulled the shutters closed, then changed her mind and threw them open, fastening them to the slip-hooks on the outside wall.
No, the doll wasn’t evil. Hanna twisted around and made her way back to the fireplace. She placed a gentle kiss on the glass case and headed to the bathroom to get ready for school. Her mind stayed with the doll while her green eyes watched her hand comb her blond strands; a robot doing its routine chore. She would get it fixed. Hanna applied black mascara and some gloss to her lips, wondering if the doll’s arms falling off could be an omen.
Omens were an obsession with her grandmother Elizabeth; she saw omens in everything and everywhere. While some on the island called Elizabeth a witch, Hanna thought of her as spiritual, albeit eerie. Vani called her Chupacabra, the mythical goat-bloodsucking demon creature. Last week, when Hanna had told Elizabeth she’d dreamt of a hand stabbing her doll in the back, her grandmother explained it forewarned betrayal. Elizabeth told Hanna to be vigilant. Her grandmother didn’t like the doll. Hanna wondered what she would say about the doll’s fallen arms. As she headed across the bedroom, the shutters banged again. Hanna twirled around wide-eyed. That was not possible. Shutters didn’t get loose from those hooks. Did they? Perhaps the hooks were weak.
There was a hole inside her chest. A huge dark hole…a loss, she had lost something. Hanna turned to the doll. She wished she could hug it and make the pain go away. The eighteenth-century doll, with its delicate features, diamond tiara and yellow-laced gown, was all she had left of her mother. That doll gave Hanna great comfort every day. It was her mother Marie watching over her. Marie, a descendant of the French aristocracy, had died in childbirth. On Hanna’s fifth birthday, her grandfather John II had brought the doll and placed it on the mantelpiece. For ten years it hadn’t been moved, so she thought. How could this happen? Now her doll looked like a cheap prop from a B-horror film. Hanna shuddered. Oh, my God, she’d shuddered? Was shuddering contagious?
Maybe Vani was right, but not about the doll. There was something evil going on. Something evil had broken her doll. The shutters banged again, making Hanna jump. She stared at the window and wiped her face. She had locked those shutters before going to bed. She was sure of it. Hanna stood and walked over to the window. She pulled the shutters closed, then changed her mind and threw them open, fastening them to the slip-hooks on the outside wall.
No, the doll wasn’t evil. Hanna twisted around and made her way back to the fireplace. She placed a gentle kiss on the glass case and headed to the bathroom to get ready for school. Her mind stayed with the doll while her green eyes watched her hand comb her blond strands; a robot doing its routine chore. She would get it fixed. Hanna applied black mascara and some gloss to her lips, wondering if the doll’s arms falling off could be an omen.
Omens were an obsession with her grandmother Elizabeth; she saw omens in everything and everywhere. While some on the island called Elizabeth a witch, Hanna thought of her as spiritual, albeit eerie. Vani called her Chupacabra, the mythical goat-bloodsucking demon creature. Last week, when Hanna had told Elizabeth she’d dreamt of a hand stabbing her doll in the back, her grandmother explained it forewarned betrayal. Elizabeth told Hanna to be vigilant. Her grandmother didn’t like the doll. Hanna wondered what she would say about the doll’s fallen arms. As she headed across the bedroom, the shutters banged again. Hanna twirled around wide-eyed. That was not possible. Shutters didn’t get loose from those hooks. Did they? Perhaps the hooks were weak.
Veiled Mist
by Eleanor T. Beaty
The
Reviews are in! 4.6 out of 5 stars!
"An
engrossing and convincing thriller, set in an exotic part of the
world, elegantly yet efficiently told. Eleanor Beaty is a writer well
worth keeping your eye on" ~ Jon Breakfield, best-selling author
of KEY WEST.
“Witches, Gypsies and Evil Wizards, Oh My!” ~ Krystal Willingham, book blogger
“The storyline for this book is delightfully original [and] chock full of intrigue and the paranormal… I enjoyed every minute of the story and think you will, too.” ~ Nancy Medina, book blogger
“Witches, Gypsies and Evil Wizards, Oh My!” ~ Krystal Willingham, book blogger
“The storyline for this book is delightfully original [and] chock full of intrigue and the paranormal… I enjoyed every minute of the story and think you will, too.” ~ Nancy Medina, book blogger
Purchase
Links:
Amazon
eBook: http://www.amazon.com/Veiled-Mist-ebook/dp/B008J72TGO/
Amazon
Paperback:
http://www.amazon.com/Veiled-Mist-Eleanor-T-Beaty/dp/0615649483
About the author:
Eleanor T. Beaty is a Young Adult
Paranormal author. A worldly person born in beautiful Brazil and
spent much of her childhood in several places (Argentina,
Switzerland, and the US to name a few). She holds a BA in English
Literature and is published in both Brazil and Turkey.
Eleanor loves spirituality and magic -
both have allowed her to gain a strong grip on life and enjoy what it
has to offer. She believes that everything has a reason and
understanding those reasons help us deal with the difficult moments.
Eleanor currently enjoys life with her husband in Brazil.
Giveaways:
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I just finished "Veiled Mist" and I was entertained. It reminded of the show "My Super Sweet Sixteen" where ungrateful "bee-yotches" throw tantrums because they didn't get the right color car! It was nice to see that, through whatever machination,Hanna learns the error of her ways. As you can probably tell, I am not much of a paranormal fan but I think "Veiled Mist" is an entertaing allegory of learning to be a more humane person.
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