The Haunting of Dove Cote House Rachel Jordan

 

Paranormal
Date Published: 16th February 2018
Following the death of her father Cat Fletcher returns to the family home where she lived until she was 18.
But Cat’s memories of the past are blurry, despite dreaming regularly about Dove Cote House.
And her home coming is far from perfect, when in the true meaning of the expression, the past comes back to haunt you, does just that.
 The Haunting of Dove Cote House by Rachel Jordan
 Excerpt
“Can you tell me about the house’s history?”
Cat shook her head. “Very little I’m afraid. Only how it got its name and its reputation for being haunted.
It’s something Rob and I had talked about researching.
My parents never got round to doing it for fear of what others would say or think. They felt that it was easier to just let it go.
I had hoped to do it tomorrow, but with my husband arriving it doesn’t seem feasible now.”
“You know Cat it might be better to go to Winford Library”, Rob said.
“They have fantastic research facilities now and there is always the Museum too.”
“Well perhaps we can do that on Saturday,” James said, before adding “It’s something any number of us can do as many hands make light work. But if we can’t all go it doesn’t matter.”
Cat let out a deep sigh. “I’ll be honest I don’t know how Phil is going to react to this. Although he was good enough to tell me about the potential story, and he got suspended because of his actions. Don’t worry I’ll be there on Saturday no matter what. This is my house, where all these things have and still are happening, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it once and for all.”
“That’s the spirit if you’ll forgive my pun. Now one other thing that crossed my mind,” James said. “I’m assuming that once you have completed the research you’ll then start investigating and dealing with the spirit yourself. “
Cat nodded.
“You have some fantastic items to help you with that Cat.”
“Thanks, but it’s all down to Rob. Without his help I wouldn’t have known where to start.”
“Which reminds me,” Rob said. “Any problems if I bring my equipment over, and store it with yours?”
“None what so ever, and if you want to leave it here permanently feel free to do so.”
“Well in that case I’ll go and get it tomorrow. Fancy coming with me James? You can meet my folks.”
Cat grinned to herself as it was obvious neither man felt comfortable being around when Phil arrived.
“Good idea. I’d like to meet them very much.”
“Have you ever done a paranormal investigation like this before? “
“Yes, in fact I have on more than one occasion. I’ve been called in by investigators just in case they were dealing with something demonic.
The Church never approved when I did. I guess that all went against me in the end, but I stand by what I did and always will.
Now back to what I wanted to ask you.
Are we only dealing with the woman here, or is it both spirits? If you are happy to let the child continue residing here you can do so.”
“She’s never caused any trouble, and I guess she has become part of my life. I’m more than happy to let her stay.”
The words had hardly left Cat’s mouth, when every door in the house started opening and slamming uncontrollably.
“Okay,” Cat said loudly. “I don’t think that’s the answer I was meant to give.”
As the doors kept opening and closing, Cat, Rob and James looked on in horror as the table was dragged across the room, but more frighteningly as Cat’s books flew off the shelves and were flung at them by unseen hands. Then the curtains were pulled from their rails and cushions thrown about.
The unending banging of the doors had begun to make the house vibrate and Rob felt as if he was going to develop a violent headache because of the noise.
“For God’s sake stop this at once,” James’ clear voice shouted out.
The front door suddenly opened with a heavy thud: the bolts and locks ripped to pieces.
“Stop it please,” Cat screamed. “In the name of God just stop it.”
All activity in the house suddenly stopped as quickly as it had begun, and to Cat it felt as if she would hear a pin drop any moment it had gone so quiet.
Her eyes opened wide as she saw a dark form looming in the doorway, which slowly turned into the woman.
“Oh this isn’t good.”
James and Rob turned to look at Cat and then followed her gaze.
The spirit, which neither had seen until that moment, was drawing closer to them by the second.
The woman stood in front of James. “Get out of this house, you vile exorcist.”
The next second she was in front of Rob. Her movement that quick no one had seen it. “I’ll warn you a second time. You are to leave.”
Cat stood up tall as the spirit moved in front of her. She was staring at Cat intently, and for a moment, Cat was afraid her legs were going to give out under her. Instead she pulled herself together and stared back at the woman.
“Anything you want to say to me? Or is it only my friend’s you feel like threatening today?”
The woman raised one of her hands in Cat’s direction. “You are the biggest traitor of them all. You openly plan to get rid of me. How could you do that? How can you treat your mother this way?”
She pushed her hand towards Cat, and to everyone’s shock Cat was thrown backward violently, her head narrowly missing hitting against the window ledge.
With a high pitch shriek the spirit disappeared.
Rob and James ran to Cat to help her.
“I’m all right. Nothing feels broken and I’m lucky I didn’t bang my head.”
As she stood with the support of the others, Cat saw Phil standing in the doorway, shock registered on his face.
“Cat, in God’s name what just happened? This place looks like a bomb’s hit it!”
About the Author
Hi there. My name is Rachel Jordan
Two things I have loved from the time I was small are the paranormal and writing.
I like nothing more then curling up with a ghost story that keeps you wondering what will happen next. Or failing that watching one of my favorite paranormal films.
I did some freelance journalism many years ago, but I adore sitting down and writing stories.
Is it any wonder that I have decided to combine the two things I love the most?
“The Haunting of Dove Cote House”, is my debut novel
I live in the United Kingdom.
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Alive? by Melissa Woods

Alive?
Melissa Woods
(The Alive? Series, #1)
Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: October 30th 2018
Genres: Post-Apocalyptic, Science Fiction, Young Adult, Zombies

Everyone knows the first rule of the zombie apocalypse: Don’t. Get. Bitten.

Too bad Violet has never been great at following the rules. Walking home after a night of partying, she manages to let one of the Dead take a chunk out of her only hours after they’ve begun walking again. Fortunately for Violet, she doesn’t die. Unfortunately for Violet—she’s not exactly alive, either.

Violet’s body is undergoing changes, and suddenly the taste of human flesh is not as revolting as it once sounded. Controlling her new urges will be hard. Living with survivors who have no idea will be even harder. And the real zombies? They still want to eat her, too…

Surviving the zompocalypse is tricky when you play for both teams.

New from author Melissa Woods, Alive? is a heart-pounding adventure with suspenseful plot twists, complex characters, and a dash of dark humor. Gritty and raw, Alive? is sure to keep you guessing, and will delight zombie apocalypse fans everywhere.

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Author Bio:

Melissa is a Primary School teacher by day and a writer by night. She grew up in a small town in the UK, and spent of her time with her nose in a book. Her childhood was filled with R.L Stein, Jacqueline Wilson, and J.K Rowling, and they inspired her to begin creating her own worlds. Melissa has always been fascinated with stories about living through an apocalyptic event, and with characters who feel so real that they become part of the reader long after the book was put away. She wrote the first draft of Alive? at sixteen, and has been hooked on writing ever since.

When she’s not writing, Melissa enjoys reading, playing video games, crocheting, and spending time with her two dogs (and occasionally her husband).

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Hunter by Eden Summers

Release Date: February 27, 2018

Cover Designer: Letitia – RBA Designs

Photographer: Stas Vokman

Model: Konstantin Kamynin

 

Synopsis

 

A deliciously seductive standalone coming soon to ebook, print and audio.

The hunter has become the hunted.

I’ve been running for ten years—fleeing my past and clawing my way toward an inescapable act of vengeance. Finally, I can taste revenge on the tip of my tongue.

Until he walks into my life, sure and strong and full of secrets.

He dilutes my thirst for retribution with his touch. He obliterates my need for solitude with his kiss. But it’s his hidden agenda that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

He wants something. Something that doesn’t revolve around sweaty skin and tangled silk sheets like he’d have me believe.

I have to stop falling for him, otherwise the last ten years will all be for nothing. I need to keep running, keep fighting for vengeance, even though I know he will track me down.

But trying to escape him is just another problem. Because now I crave the hunt.

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About the Author

 

Eden Summers is a bestselling author of contemporary romance with a side of sizzle and sarcasm.

She lives in Australia with a young family who are well aware she’s circling the drain of insanity.
Eden can’t resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.

 

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Nadia’s Heart by Wendy Altshuler

Copy of Nadia's Heart Part Two by Wendy Altshuler.jpg

 

YA Fantasy, Horror
Date Published: 11/11/2017
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In Nadia’s Heart, Part One, amnesiac Nadia knew that something was wrong, so she went in search of her missing heart. What she encountered has only brought more questions: about her origins and her ties to the people of the Land of Silence. She learned that her heart was indeed removed, and that her memory was erased by an evil Voice. But why?
Now Nadia and her glowing-eyed companion, Georgeonus, must help recover the stolen hearts of the children of the Land of Silence. In Part Two, they will do battle against the evil Voice and travel to frightening places. They receive help from a powerful Witch and Wizard, and Nadia gets her heart back—but it’s not at all what she expected. Can they rescue the stolen children’s hearts in time?
 
Excerpts
From Chapter VII: The Nether Regions:
“Mabel,” said Nadia, “how did you get down here? Did Georgeonus and Holofernes make it? Are they okay?”
Mabel smiled patiently, helping Nadia to step away from the table.
“Oh, I suspect they’re fine now” was her reply.
“But—”
“Come,” she said, turning. She pulled her wand from her pocket, pointed it at the cloth, and the wrap sewed itself into pants and a belted tunic.
“But—”
“We cannot linger here,” Mabel warned, turning to walk briskly.
Nadia caught up to her. “Aren’t we in the canyon?”
“No, Nadia.”
“Then where are we?”
“We are in the Otherworld. We mustn’t linger!”
Nadia did not press the matter, but followed Mabel closely, striving to keep up. She had the feeling that they were neither in the underworld nor in a canyon. She remembered the ice castle constructed by the Voice. It seemed so long ago now. In that castle, when her thoughts perceived that perhaps it was not there at all, it would come into and out of view, disappearing before her. It was the same with this canyon. This time, she perceived her own illusion. When it faded, all she could see was light.
“Take my hand, Nadia!” said Mabel urgently, in a tone which alarmed her, and in a moment Nadia’s hand found Mabel’s, which clutched hers back. Mabel’s other hand came around Nadia’s waist and drew her close, and suddenly they were being sucked through some type of funnel. It was not comfortable; it felt dangerous, and there was great pressure all around penetrating Nadia’s cells.
From Chapter IV: The Silver Witch:
They remembered that her visit had been preceded by a magick dust.
The dust came from above, the air tingled, and miniscule, silver particles glistened as they fell. It was musical, and as they breathed, they smelled fresh air like new spring, and they felt an excitement of imminent magick. She appeared suddenly, and at first no one knew where she had come from or how; she was just there on the road. She came as naturally as if she had approached them from the road. But as the magick dust settled, they realized—remembered—that the Silver Witch had dropped out of the sky.
As she stood there smiling at them, they remembered that they had looked up at the sky at a circling dot which descended. As it approached, it formed the shape of a square, floating quilt. The Witch was soon revealed to be sitting on top in black garb and hat, her silvery skin thick and rubbery. With both hands placed on diagonal corners of the quilt, she jumped off and shook the fabric out like clean laundry and parachuted down to them, the tennis sneakers on her feet ready for the road. Softly she landed, snapping the quilt upward and folding it once, twice, three times, and again and again until it was a small square deposited into one of her pockets.
 
From Chapter III: Fighting Back:
They headed for the road, away from the castle tumbling toward them, hoping the mountain itself would hold until they could get to the bottom. But what awaited them at the bottom was a sheet of ice, and it too could crack and send them down into the frigid deep.
She had never driven a sleigh nor a team of dogs before. The pure instinct of survival now taught her. As they rounded the rough road, more slippery now as they gathered speed, their path looked grim. Giant chunks of the castle came descending down, hitting the mountain’s jagged sides and causing avalanches of huge falling debris. The children screamed, and Nadia wanted to do the same and take refuge closer in toward the mountain, but there was nothing that would shelter them. She kept focused on the dogs in front of her, thinking only of getting to the bottom. Cascading from above came another rock, and the children held onto the sleighs, terrified. Nadia tried to turn the sleigh toward the mountain to avoid it. They swerved dangerously around the edge of the road.
Something also descended from the sky. It was a black figure, but Nadia could not even think about another potential threat as the second sleigh bore down upon them, rushing behind her. They swerved back to a straight course, barely missing the rolling boulder which crashed onto the road.
About the Author

Wendy Altshuler is a writer-producer who explores myth in new media. She writes fantasy novels and creates works in stop motion animation.  Her credits include award-winning screenwriting and WGA-accredited representation. With a degree in psychology and a Master of Arts from Columbia University, Altshuler documented the work of international choreographers and wrote and produced regional programming. Her short plays have been performed at Boston Playwrights’ Theatre, at regional schools and most recently, Puppet Showplace Theatre. Altshuler’s young adult book series has been hailed as “emotionally moving, uplifting and wholesome,” and “spirited and haunting. . .with much symbolism and beauty.”

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The Poison of Woedenwoud by K. Ferrin – blitz

The Poison of Woedenwoud
K. Ferrin
(Magicfall, #3)
Publication date: February 12th 2018
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

Magic is draining from the world threatening everything, the tatters of her own family, the warlocks, and the Mari alike. Ling and her companions search desperately for the key to ending it all, but warlocks dog their every step. Meanwhile, Ling, isolated and afraid, struggles against a rising tide of darkness far more threatening than anything in the Darkling Sea.




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EXCERPT:

Ling slammed the book closed and tossed it to the bed next to her before moving across the room and staring down at the woman lying there. Ling could remember nothing of her, of what they’d been through together, of ever having met her. But there were pages and pages of writing in the grimoire detailing all of it. There was more of Fern in those pages than anyone else. They had become allies and friends as they’d made their way through the vagaries of this never-ending war. Ling marveled at that even now. She’d been so certain she’d never have such a relationship again, but the abuse she’d experienced because of what she was had stopped at the borders of Brielle. Even Fariss didn’t hate her for what she was, though his desire to destroy her was no less.

Ling ran a finger lightly along Fern’s blue-scaled cheek. Warm, dry, a hint of roughness beneath her finger. She needed to talk to someone about what she’d read, what she’d been through, the hate and anger she was feeling. She wished fiercely that Rudy were here with her. Or, more accurately, that he had stuck by her side as she would have done for him. But he’d said nothing and done nothing as Laera had tried to kill her. His face had been twisted with anguish, but what good did that do her? He’d done nothing, lifted not even a finger to help her. She wanted to punish him too.

Perhaps Fern was the only friend she had anymore, but she didn’t feel like a friend. Ling dropped to her knees and rested her head beside Fern’s ravaged shoulder. She tried to dredge up something, some memory of their time together, some feeling for the woman lying on the bed in front of her, but there was nothing.

Of the others, she barely knew Dreskin, and even if that hadn’t been true, he’d brought Celene aboard this ship. Celene, the mother of the man who’d raped her. Her daughter Amalya too, a girl who was physically close to Ling’s own age, but mentally still a child.

Dreskin had been there; he had yanked Fraser off her and had dragged him up to see the captain. He knew what sort of man Fraser was, and had brought that woman aboard anyway. He was no friend of hers.

Captain Drake had helped her, and continued to help her, but she’d also allowed Ling to walk out into Marique with Fariss. Drake had known what Fariss was capable of, but had said nothing to stop Ling from leaving with him. Ally she might be, but she was hardly reliable.

And not one of them understood what it was like to be cut so perfectly adrift from everything you knew and from everything you were. Only Fern knew what it was like to be so different, so hated for that difference, and so completely alone. Ling was the only changeling in the world who thought and felt and looked so completely human. Fern was one of the last two Mari in the world, and may actually be the last if Alyssum had succumbed to her injuries. She and Fern were the only ones in all the world that completely alone.

Ling reached out and wrapped her fingers around Fern’s hand. She didn’t remember anything about this woman, but she did feel a kinship with her nevertheless. An odd sort of one, based entirely on words she didn’t remember writing in a book she never remembered seeing before, but it was there.

Author Bio:

K. Ferrin spends her days surrounded by engineers, technology, and humming machinery, but her evenings are steeped in magic, myth, and adventure. She writes fantasy, loves gardening, and eats way too much pie. She lives at the foot of the Colorado Rockies with her husband and two pooches.

Her novels include the stand alone YA fantasy novel Magicless, as well as Across the Darkling Sea, and A Dying Land, the first two books of a series. You can find her online at http://www.kferrin.com.

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A Haszard Narrative by Kevin E. Hatt

A Haszard Narrative by Kevin E. Hatt.jpg

Crime, Mystery
Date Published: January 2018
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After witnessing what transpired to be the murder of a seemingly innocent man, Haszard be-comes yet more intrigued when he hears of a vicar spontaneously combusting in his own church, locked from within. To add fuel to his intrigue, both men were from the same remote country village.
As Haszard begins looking into the matter, he is bombarded with peculiar tales of people connected to the church, and of strange goings-on. Piecing the facts together, Haszard be-comes convinced that he knows what’s been going on, but there is only one choice of action, which is fraught with danger…
Praise for Author Kevin E. Hatt and his Haszard Narratives:
“The recurring detective and his delightful band of cronies lead a sharp, absorbing mystery.” – Kirkus Reviews
 
“. . . a fun and exciting mystery with just the right amount of dry British humor and ludicrous sensationalism.” – New Apple Literary
 
“This is truly a spellbinding, entertaining mystery that will have you reading non-stop until you have reached the end!” – Rabia Tanveer, Readers’ Favorite
 
“Needless to say, there is never a dull moment in a Haszard Narrative.” – Cheryl E. Rodriguez, Readers’ Favorite
 
“Suspense and twists will keep the reader on the edge of their seat, unable to tear their eyes from the page.” – K.J. Simmill, Readers’ Favorite
Other Books in A Haszard Narrative Series
A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS
Unfortunate in life and unlucky in love, the mysterious Haszard is intrigued by the death of an acquaintance at the local hospital, in which he works. Suspicious about the circumstances, he begins to look into the matter, meeting the woman of his dreams along the way.
After joining forces a local businessman, he speaks to a number of people, discovering irregularities in the life of the murdered woman. As he makes progress, he realises that the key to the matter lies in the dark and murky world of drug dealers, and has to face the possibility that the killer may well be someone he knows . . .
MAPS, LEGENDS AND MISDEMEANOURS
When asked to frame an old map, Haszard discovers that it’s linked to lost valuables from the past. Intrigued, he begins looking into the legend, discovering there to be cryptic clues on the map that must be deciphered. Unfortunately, though, Haszard isn’t the only person interested in the whereabouts of the missing items, and the other contingent resorts to violent tactics, which leads to a chilling climax . . .
 
PHOENIX FROM THE FLAME
When told by a former colleague that she saw her dead husband walking around a quaint market town, Haszard’s curiosity is engaged. As he begins to look into the matter, he unearths a number of facts that lead him to believe that there’s more to the sighting than merely a dead man walking. Also, there are people who are prepared to kill for something that’s worth a lot of money . . .
 
THE HEIRLOOM REPOSITORY
Haszard is asked to look for a family’s missing inheritance. Guided by words provided by a medium, he goes about the case with his typical fervour. Side-tracked by other matters, and spooked by a mysterious man in the woods, Haszard soon comes to realise that he isn’t alone in his quest, and persons unknown are not afraid to kill . . .
 
RACE FOR THE PRIZE
When on holiday with his friends, Haszard sees a girl who went missing a number of weeks previous. Fuelled with his usual determination, he sets about looking into the matter, although all is not as it appears, and it isn’t long before matters become eventful.
Having befriended a local artist, Haszard moves closer to an answer, yet the odds are stacked heavily against him. In order to win through, he must endure his most arduous and perilous challenge yet . . .
 
NO REASON FOR INSANITY
Intrigued by the bizarre events surrounding the murder of a friend, Haszard is asked by the family to look into the matter. Against the advice of his friends, he begins making enquiries, and is disturbed when he realizes that it may well be someone he knows. As progress is made, further events occur, endangering the life of Haszard and his friends, and he is forced to delve into the deepest recesses of his resourcefulness . . .
FULL CIRCLE
When asked to look into the death of a man in a town known for pagan connections, Haszard quickly makes progress, and it isn’t long before matters become dangerous. With little to work with, Haszard makes progress, yet the task is a daunting one, and not everyone he encounters is friendly.
Collating interesting and significant information from various sources along the way, Haszard has to link factors linked with the past, and as he does so, he realizes that in order to save someone from certain death, he is in a race against time.
The Ambiguity of Guilt
Items discovered in the attic of a new house belonging to a friend of Haszard are intriguing to him, and he sets about looking into the family who lived there previously. His efforts, however, are thwarted by the fact that nobody knew them very well, and he soon discovers that they are nowhere to be found. As he progresses, more discoveries point to the possibility that the family members were master criminals who were diverse in their activities, yet Haszard sees things differently. After speaking to a number of people and encountering persons unknown, who are not afraid to use firearms, he feels convinced that he knows where they are, but is uncertain of the reception he will receive . . .
Excerpt
‘Somewhere just outside Upper Bramsdean, on the Dewton Road.’ I tried opening my door, only it wouldn’t budge. I looked out of the window to see a tree beside me. ‘We’ll have to get out your side. Make sure that you leave the headlights on.’ 
            ‘I’ll make the call first.’ I sat motionless while Sabrina called the emergency services, who as ever wanted her life story before actually sending anyone to help. She placed her phone back in her pocket. ‘Let’s get out.’          
            Gingerly, she opened the door, but due to the angle that we were at, it wouldn’t remain open. In an effort to counteract the problem, she shuffled her legs onto the seat, pushing the door forwards whilst resting her foot on the side of my seat. Struggling against the door she crawled forwards, flopping out onto the muddy ground, cursing as she did so. Finally, she worked herself free, standing and holding the door open for me.     
            Repeating the process that Sabrina had performed, I felt shaky, Sabrina taking my hand and helping me out. ‘Your head’s bleeding,’ she said.     
            ‘I’ll be fine,’ I grumbled, turning away from her. I began making my way up the bank, my feet slipping on the mud that was making it nigh impossible to make progress. Conscious of the fact that Sabrina was in flat-soled shoes, I clung onto a tree in order to help her up, grabbing her hand. The rain, meanwhile, came down in torrents, the sound of the raindrops creating a sinister symphony which reverberated malevolently around us.         
            Little by little, we made our way up the bank, struggling like we’d never struggled before, slipping on the odd occasion, our clothes completely drenched and covered in mud by the time we reached the top of the bank, utterly breathless.         
            We stood in the pouring rain, uncertain of what to do. I looked to the direction the other cars had emerged from, noticing a glow from the other side of the road, fifty or so yards from us. Still confused, I glanced down the bank at Sabrina’s stricken cabriolet. A glow… a glow. I looked back across the road.  
            In the other direction, a couple of hundred yards away, I noticed a set of rear lights. The car was stationary. What was he doing? Had he realised what he’d done and was undecided as to what to do? I moved out further into the road, the car moving away as I approached. I shouted for him to come back, but he just kept going. Typical, I thought, just bloody typical! Cause an accident and run away. It didn’t surprise me because it’s the way the world is. I turned my attention back to the glow I’d seen. 
            ‘Sab, what’s that glow coming from?’          
            ‘I don’t know.’ Looking at Sabrina in the eerie light, I noticed that she was shaking.         
            I placed a reassuring arm around Sabrina, hugging her. ‘We’d better go and see.’  
            We walked towards the source of the glow, the rain somehow becoming heavier. Crossing to the other side of the road, I looked up at the sky, cursing the wretched weather. Nearing the source, I could see that the glow was a light—a car headlight. It just didn’t make sense… I thought back. One set of lights moved across. They must have been forced off the road like us. I began running, glancing back at Sabrina, who was struggling.      
            As I reached the vehicle I could see that it was small—old and small. That model must be over twenty years old, I thought. Being as old as that it wouldn’t have all the safety features that Sabrina’s car had. The front of the car was completely crumpled, having hit a large tree head on. It didn’t look good.     
            There was no bank sloping down on that side of the road, which made reaching it considerably easier. Looking through the window I could see someone slumped forwards. I tried opening the door, but it was locked. I ran around to the other side, only to discover that it too was locked, which left me no choice. I would have to smash a window. I looked around for some kind of rock or stone, moving in front of the headlight as I trawled through the grass and broken twigs that littered the ground, finally finding a fist-sized stone.      
            Sabrina approached me. ‘Haszard, what are you doing?’ That’s my name, by the way. Odd, but not something that you’d forget overnight.         
            ‘Breaking the window. The doors are locked and whoever it is doesn’t look good.’ I moved to the passenger side, drawing my arm back and slinging it forward, releasing the projectile. The window shattered. I put my arm through, searching frantically for the door-lock, which I finally found next to the handle. Why can’t manufacturers decide where the lock should be and put it in the same place on all models? After flicking it I tried the handle, the door opening only a matter of inches. I cursed. The impact had bent the structure of the car. I pulled at it violently, the metal screeching its protest as the door opened another few inches. I pulled again, and again, the door opening a little further each time. After one more gargantuan pull, it opened fully, allowing me access. Without delay I slid alongside the unconscious man… but was he unconscious or dead?           
            ‘Are you all right?’ I said, remembering my life-support training. There was no movement. I didn’t wish to shake him or attempt any painful stimuli to his shoulder in case he had a neck injury, so I tried to ascertain whether he was breathing. I cupped my hand around his nose and mouth, holding it there for several seconds. I could feel breath. Good—that was good. 
            ‘How is he?’ Sabrina said, peering in.           
            ‘Not good, but breathing,’ I said, searching for the interior light, activating it. ‘Oh shit!’   
            ‘What is it?’   
            I moved out of the way, showing Sabrina the state of the driver’s leg. The light wasn’t great, but it was just enough for Sabrina to see the damage. The car had hit the tree with such an impact that the engine must have forced the bulkhead back, crushing the man’s legs, bone protruding through the skin on his left lower leg. ‘He’s got an open fracture. He’s going to need a drip fast, and a fire crew to cut him out of here.’     
            ‘I’ll call the emergency services and tell them to send some cutting equipment, and hurry the ambulance up,’ Sabrina said, shuffling alongside me.          
            Whilst Sabrina made her call, I removed my jacket, placing it over the unconscious man, wondering if there was anything else I could do. I was actually a registered operating theatre practitioner, and Sabrina was a Sister in the orthopaedic clinic of our local hospital; however, without any equipment, we were next to useless!           
            ‘They’re sending a fire crew, and the ambulance should only be a few minutes,’ Sabrina informed me. ‘Oh my God… your head!’   
            ‘What about it?’          
            ‘It’s bleeding.’
            ‘So you said, Miss Jensen. It’s only a bloody scratch!’         
            Sabrina moved my head into the light, examining it circumspectly. ‘It’s more than a scratch! You’re going to need to have it seen to! You’re absolutely covered in blood.’        
            I turned away from her, checking the man’s breathing again. It was still the same, which was a good sign. I felt frustrated at not being able to do anything for him, just sitting there as he potentially ebbed away. He was obviously losing blood, only there was nothing that I could do. Nothing!  
            Sabrina and I said nothing whilst awaiting the arrival of the ambulance. Ordinarily, we never stopped talking, but we were both in a state of shock from our accident and concerned for the wellbeing of the other victim that the lunatic had driven off the road.         
            The moment we saw lights approaching we leaped out of the car, only to discover that it was merely a fellow motorist. Watching them pass, I noticed that the rain had eased off somewhat, not that it was of much use now.         
About the Author

Kevin E. Hatt is a registered anaesthetic and recovery practitioner. He commenced his training in 1984, and rose to the dizzy heights of deputy head. In 2000 he left the medical profession to follow his artistic ideals, but made a complete hash of it and returned to the medical world in 2010.In 2014 he released his first Haszard novel, A Light in the Darkness, which received critical acclaim, and then seven more stand-alone books in the series.He likes cricket, running, fine ales and curry. He has never been to Scunthorpe. Or Ipswich.

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