Tuesday, 22 December 2015

Night Terror...

Prologue to Father of Lies:

Something woke him. His eyes snapped open. Heart slamming against his ribcage.
            Beside him, Jacks wife slept deeply, silently.
            His ears strained into the darkness. Who or what was there?
            Seconds passed. Nothing. It had been nothing. He slumped back against the pillows. A bad dream, then? Just a nightmare, that was all…thank God. Nothing to worry about.
            Once more, sleep dragged him down into heavy-limbed oblivion, and he began to sink gratefully into its depths. The warmth of the bed. The lead of exhaustion in his bones.
            Then came a tiny tap - barely discernible, but definitely there - perhaps simply branches scratching against the bedroom window, though? Yes, that would be it.
            He kept his eyes shut, not wanting this, a tiny part of his brain on alert: should he get out of bed? Just to make sure? What if one of the kids was wandering around? If only his dead legs would move. So tired…
            God, it was unbelievably dark in here. Was it usually like this? Such blackness? Like a porthole ripped into the night - the entry to an eternal abyss - with no air. Sweat clotted on his skin. November. Should be cold, right? Maybe he was ill? Had a temperature?
            High on the wall above him, the time glowed in digital green. It was 3 a.m. 


I hope you enjoy reading Father of Lies.
The sequel will be published later in 2016...and it's going to be much, much, darker.... Enjoy!


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