Bonnie Drury

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WAIT THE MORNING LIGHT
Amber Quill Press


Excerpt:
Prologue:
Leah’s hands shook as she fumbled with the key. It was late, so maybe her dorm sisters would all be asleep. She sobbed, then pressed her fist against her mouth.
Fool! she screamed silently. Leah reached her room and slipped inside, grateful her roommate had left for the weekend. She couldn’t talk about what had happened tonight.
The words ‘date rape’ burned into her brain. Why had she gone? She was getting married in two weeks. How had a case of wedding jitters turned into a nightmare? All she’d wanted was one last bit of freedom, one date with someone new before she swore that solemn vow. It had nothing to do with her love for Nick. He was everything she wanted. But he’d never understand this.
Leah sat on the bed to steady her breathing, then went into the bathroom and turned on the shower to Hot. She stripped her clothes and threw them in the trash can, then stepped into the scalding water. Do you really think you can wash tonight out of your memory? she asked herself. She scrubbed her skin raw until the water turned cold. One thing was certain, Nick must never know.


Cover by Trace Edward Zaber
Copyright 2000 Thundergraph

Chapter One

Eighteen years later...
Leah Scarpelli couldn't wait to share her news as she pulled her silvertone Camry close to the curb. "Madame Mystic," the sign read.
Greer Hellinsky had remodeled the two-story Victorian herself, painting a discreet sand and dark brown on the outside to placate her conservative neighbors. On the inside, however, her tastes ran to vivid scarlets, purple and gold.
One of Greer's regular customers was just leaving.
"Hello, Mrs. Mullin," Leah said. "Any contact with Henry today?"
The woman's red lips widened into a big-toothed smile. "Oh yes, honey. He wants me to go ahead and take that cruise I've been planning with my sister, Mabel." As she talked, her hands moved and diamonds flashed.
Leah smiled. "That's nice. I hope you two have fun." Mrs. Mullin had told her she never made a move without Henry's permission while he was alive, and she wasn't about to start now. Leah suspected Mrs. Mullin decided exactly what it was she wanted, then used Greer to gain Henry's stamp of approval from the spirit world.
Leah didn't knock, but pushed the carved door open, setting off a melodic peal of tinkling bells. Peach blossom potpourri filled the air with its fragrance. "Hellooo," she called to her old college chum. They'd been through a lot together, though they were as different as sunshine and shadow.
Greer came from the kitchen as she finished off an orange slice, licking the juice from her fingers. A jeweled bandanna held Greer's long, riotous red hair captive as part of her Madame Mystic costume.
Greer's green eyes widened in surprise. "What brings you here on a Tuesday?" Greer knew Leah usually did her volunteer work at the hospital that afternoon. She cuddled newborns in the nursery and felt it did her even more good than the babies.
Leah gave Greer a quick peck on the cheek, careful not to smudge her theatrical makeup. "Slow time in the maternity ward. You won't believe who asked me to do the research for his next book."
Greer pressed her fingertips to her temples as if trying to receive messages from Leah's psyche. Leah waited with amusement and wouldn't be surprised if Greer came up with the name.
Finally, Greer shook her head. "Nope, not coming through. Step into my parlor and tell me all about it." She waved her perfectly manicured nails.
Leah sank into a soft velvet chair and swung her legs onto the ottoman. She hadn't realized how wound up she was until a reverse reaction began to set in. She leaned back against the cushions, relaxing. Greer's parlor was the perfect atmosphere for fortunetelling.
"Well?" Greer prompted as she tapped her foot, still standing.
Leah folded her hands and enunciated each syllable. "Jeffrey Stone."
"What?!" Greer shrieked, plopping on the sofa, as if in a swoon. "You lie."
Leah steepled her fingers and gazed at her friend. "His agent said Mr. Stone heard Alison Buecher singing my praises on that radio talk show two weeks ago." She stretched her arms high over her head. "He told his agent to hire me."
Do you think you'll meet him in person? No one seems to know what Jeffrey Stone looks like, and he doesn't grant interviews."
"Wouldn't that be a scoop if I did? I'd be more famous than my husband." Nick was well-known on the international scene as a top-notch environmental consultant for the big oil companies.
"Does he know you'll be working for the hottest writer on the bestseller list?"
"Not yet, but he'll be happy for me," Leah said, with confidence in the strength of her marriage.

Greer got up and lifted a red Chinese lacquered chest from a small round table and set it in front of her. "Let's see what's in store for you." She pulled out a long chain from inside her silk caftan and unlocked the chest with a tiny silver key.
Greer carefully drew out a deck of cards from inside. It might look like an ordinary deck to most people, but she'd learned much from them over the years."
She shuffled as Leah watched, seemingly content. Greer felt the dual emotion for Leah that had torn her apart since they'd first become friends, that of a deep love and friendship, the other, a cancerous envy.
With her Connie Selleca looks, Leah attracted men's stares wherever she went, only she didn't appear to notice. That was one of the reasons Greer admired her.
Greer glanced at the first card she'd chosen. The Ace of Clubs. She frowned and slapped it face down on the coffee table. Drawing a second card, Greer turned it over slowly, and her pulse skipped. The Ace of Spades.
She shuffled again in rapid motions, cut the deck and drew again. Ace of Spades. Wary, Greer picked up one more card. The Ace of Clubs. There could be only one interpretation.
Misfortune awaits.

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