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The Drake House

Kelly Moran is a bestselling author of enchanting ever-afters. She gets her ideas from everyone and everything around her and there's always a book playing out in her head. No one who knows her bats an eyelash when she talks to herself. Kelly is a RITA® Finalist, RONE Award-Winner, Catherine Award-Winner, Readers Choice Finalist, Holt Medallion Finalist, and landed on the "Must Read" & "10 Best Reads" lists at USA TODAY's Lifestyle blog. She is a proud Romance Writers of America® member, where she was an Award of Excellence Finalist. Her books have foreign translation rights in Germany, the Czech Republic, and the Netherlands. Kelly's interests include: sappy movies, MLB, NFL, driving others insane, and sleeping when she can. She is a closet coffee junkie and chocoholic, but don't tell anyone. She's originally from Wisconsin, but she resides in South Carolina with her three sons, her two dogs, and a cat. She loves hearing from her readers. www.AuthorKellyMoran.com Trisha Eaton has been plagued by mysterious nightmares ever since her parents adopted her as a young girl. She chalked them up to childish nuisances until they return-- with a vengeance. Something about the Drake house next door to her family’s apple orchard haunts her. Now, her night terrors and sleepwalking seem to be luring her to something dark. When a series of strange events crops up, Trisha turns to Nick Mackey. As the new deputy in town, Nick just wants to put his traumatic past behind him. An undeniable attraction for Trisha has piqued interest and has him wondering if a shot at a normal life was possible. But Trisha has somehow struck a nerve, and a long-buried secret. A secret that someone they know will kill to keep veiled. Uncovered answers only seem to lead to more questions in a case where nothing makes sense. One chilling fact remains... some nightmares are all too real.

Kelly Moran · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
69 Chs

Chapter 63

Trisha's eyes flew open, scanning her dark bedroom. Not the woods. Just her room. But those echoing words from her dream were still pushing around in her head.

Thank you for coming.

The nightmares were back.

She blew out a pent up breath and froze as realization dawned. Her bedroom wasfreezing. Her breaths expelled in a fog before her face.

Her gaze whipped to the window. Closed.

Terror clawed her throat. Too scared to move, she looked around. And fear took on a new name.

Ice crystals formed over her mirror, starting at the base and moving up, crackling in the quiet of her room. Inch by inch, the pop of cold coated the glass, until no reflection remained.

Her heart stopped. She tried to scream for Nick, but all she managed was a choked gasp.

Oh God. Then, then

One. Two. Handprints formed on the mirror.