Bri and Logan Share a Favorite Christmas Memory
(Includes Characters from Secret: At HL Woods)
“Hi, everyone! I was told to introduce us before we share our favorite Christmas memory. I’m Bri Lancaster, and beside me is Kyle Benton. We are both story-stars from the novel, Secret: At HL Woods, by DK Davis.” I glance at Kyle, he grins. “Okay, Kyle, you start.”
Kyle’s eyes narrow at me, then go wide. “Fine. Okay, it’s later on Christmas Eve, like about sevenish, our friends all take off to Christmas Carol through our village, but instead, Bri and I decide to take a little run to warm up. We have flashlights, you know, come prepared, and we’re actually dressed in our winter jog stuff.” He rolls his eyes, then asks, “Why did we dress in our running clothes?”
I giggle at him. “Because you and I already talked about going for a run while everyone else goes off singing. We don’t sing, that’s Max and Luke’s thing.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay, you take over…”
“We head down a village street churning up the heat by running, right out of the village limits. Kyle challenges me to a two-mile run out of town, so of course, I’m all in. We race, not paying attention to anything else but our pounding feet staying in unison.” I slow my breath and nod at Kyle.
He takes the lead and says, “Suddenly, a child cries out, a scared, sad voice, calling for her mother, brother, sister, and her father. Bri and I stop in front of an old vacant house with windows broken-out, shoddy paint, as in mostly grayish wet wood on the outside, and a run-down porch with missing pieces of the steps. The house is well known as haunted. Bri heads off-road toward the house, and I catch up to her and grab her arm. I tell her, if we’re going to do this, we need to at least give James a call. Maybe there are some Spectral Paranormal Investigators – a.k.a. S.P.I. – available to help us out tonight, even though it’s the night before Christmas.”
I step in and continue, “I shake off Kyle’s hand from my arm and make my way forward through the inches of snow covering the ground. The child’s voice keeps me moving around the house to the backside. I tell Kyle, I think she’s somewhere outside.”
Kyle launches his bit, saying, “Bri becomes adamant when I pull my phone from my pocket to make the call to James. She stomps her foot, in fact.” Kyle winks at me.
And I’m feeling like we’re right back in that snow-covered yard as I say, “I grab Kyle’s phone and act like I’m going to throw it in a snowdrift. He tackles me to the ground, fighting for the phone. The thing slips from my glove and drops into the snow. Kyle dives for it. I leave him floundering in the white stuff and follow the little girl’s voice. Then, I see her, a small, glowing apparition gliding toward me across the top of the snow.”
“You can see me,” she says. Her sad eyes open wider. “Do you see me? I mean, you’re looking right at me. Tell me you can see me and hear me.”
I tell her, “I see you and hear you. Why are you calling for your family? Why aren’t you with them? What happened?”
The little girl smiles. “Daddy brought a refrigerator home to fix. He left it by the barn. I hid inside it to scare him, and I couldn’t open the door. No one found me. And then, when I finally got out, no one could see me or hear me. Not my mom or dad, or my older sister and brother. They went away without me.” She breaks down in sobs, and even though ghosts don’t shed tears, I know her face would have been full of them if she were alive.
“What’s your name? Do you know what year you were born?” Her clothing looks ancient.
She sniffles and straightens, wiping her tearless face. “I’m Sarah Beatrice Worthington, and I start school when the leaves turn color. I’ll be five-years-old. Mama says, I start school in the fall of 1935.”
That’s when I put a few pieces together. Sarah hides, is not found, and then when she is discovered, it’s too late to save her. The family moves away because they can’t bear the pain. I can only imagine what they were all feeling.
By this time, Kyle skids through the snow and meets up with me. “So, did you find her, the little girl?”
Of course, Sarah vanishes. I tell him about her and then say, “I want to call to her, light some candles, and send her into the light with her guardian angels. Maybe some of her family has already crossed-over and are waiting for her.”
Kyle states the obvious, even though it doesn’t cross my mind, “Bri, do the math. I mean, they couldn’t be alive if Sarah’s their last kid and doesn’t start school until 1935. Let’s figure it out…the mom and dad had at least one other girl and one other boy before her. Say they started their family young like they married at eighteen and the mom pops the first one out the same year they’re married, and then in another two years, another kid, two years later, another baby, Sarah. So, Sarah was born in 1930, and I’m guessing the mom took two-years between kids. When the mom’s eighteen-years-old, she had the oldest kid in 1926, and the mid-kid in 1928. So, take eighteen away from 1926, and the mom would have been born in 1908. She’d be one-hundred-eleven-years-old. I mean, Sarah would be eighty-nine right now.”
I’m stunned that Kyle figures that out so fast and realize there’s a good likelihood Sarah’s whole family has crossed-over.
Kyle whips out his phone again. “I won’t call S.P.I., I’ll call Max and see if he and Luke are up for a Christmas send-off.”
* * *
An hour later, Max and Luke roll into the snowy yard with a four-wheel-drive truck, Max’s vehicle from his dad. Luke carries a bag full of the goods, like white candles, lighters, and incense, lavender, my favorite, along with a sage smudge stick. We all go into the house, leaving the door open so Sarah will venture inside. Luke and Max make a circle of candles on the floor, and Kyle follows them, lighting the wicks. I’m smudging the room with sage smoke, clearing the place of any negative energy. Thankfully, the breeze calmed down to nothing because the windows were glassless.
Luke, Max, and Kyle stood around the circle of light, I took a spot, so we were evenly spread and then say, “Sarah, come now. I call upon you, please come now. The door is open.”
A moment later, Sarah’s glowing apparition glides across the floor and stops in the bare space inside the lighted circle. “What is this? I’m feeling warm and cozy here.” She smiles at me and then notices the three guys. “Who are they?” She stares at Luke. “He reminds me of my brother.”
“That’s Luke, my best friend. Sarah, I want you to stay warm and cozy, right where you are. I’m going to put a call out to your family, and we’ll see if anyone answers. Is that okay with you?”
“You’re going to call my momma and daddy, my sister and brother? They are far away…how will they hear you?” Sarah glances around the room.
Even though she’s looking around, my intuition tells me that Sarah will wait, so I say, “My Guardian angels, and those of Kyle, Luke, Max, and Sarah, all-loving beings related to Sarah Beatrice Worthington, I call upon you to come now. Come now to rescue Sarah, to take her home to her family.” Suddenly the flames on the candles brighten, and I see Kyle’s brother Logan appear, Max’s mother also appears, Luke’s mother smiles as she shimmers into view next to Luke, and Grandma Ilene steps next to Sarah and takes her hand. The other spirits move into the center with Sarah. The young girl is smiling from ear to ear as she grasps Max’s mother’s hand.
A brilliant light vortex opens in front of the group within the circle. “Sarah, dear child, we’ve been waiting for you.”
Sarah’s eyes grow huge. “Mamma?”
“Yes, dear, it’s Momma, Daddy, Sissy, and Brother, we’re all here, waiting to turn on the Christmas tree lights. Hurry, dear.”
The light spirits guides Sarah, and everyone steps into the bright vortex. Right before it closes, they all say in unison, “Merry Christmas.”
Kyle, Max, and Luke all sucked in a breath at the same time.
“You heard that, didn’t you?” I ask, my heart warm at seeing my grandmother. “Logan came, Max, your mother held one of Sarah’s hands, and Luke, your mother stood right beside you with biggest smile on her face. They all stepped into the light vortex with Sarah. All of Sarah’s family waited for her to join them and light their Christmas tree.”
The guys look at each other with glassy eyes, then back at me. “Merry Christmas, guys. You made the perfect present for Sarah tonight.”
Secret: In Wolf Lake
Genres: SciFi, PNR
Genres: SciFi, PNR
Publisher: BWL Publishing, Inc.
Cover Artist: Michelle Lee
Date of Publication: January 1, 2017
Number of pages: 120
Word Count: 41,200
Tagline: Samantha discovers a gifted creature living in Wolf Lake; now his life depends on her saving him.
Samantha’s dealing with a lot of emotional blow-back from her mother’s new marriage. Then she discovers a gifted creature living in Wolf Lake, and life suddenly becomes all about keeping his existence a secret, earning his trust. That is until his life depends on her saving him. But she won’t be able to do it alone…
Date of Publication: December 15, 2017
ISBN: EPUB 978-1-77362-990-2
Number of pages: 199
Word Count: 60,200 words
Tagline: A high school ghost-seer, an all-star jock, and a bully, cross paths, sparks spew, and lives change…
Bri, a seventeen-year-old ghost-seer, keeps her ability under wraps at the new school until a murdered couple from the 60’s asks for help.
Kyle, a high school jock, realizes the new girl lives next door; she’s crazy cute, goth-odd, and too convenient to ignore.
Max, Kyle’s best friend, only sees Bri as a wicked threat.
Luke, Bri’s gay best friend, moves in for the summer, escaping his abusive father.
Paths cross, sparks spew…will anyone remain the same after?
Secret: Of Amber Eyes
Date of Publication: November 2018 Release
Amazon Print 978-0-2286-0623-9
Number of pages: 197
Word Count: 58,500
Tagline: Instinct draws Morgan and Rowan together, a human and a shifter, until a wildcard wildcat threatens Morgan’s life, changing her forever.
Morgan Redding, a seventeen-year-old high school graduate, gets sent to her aunt and uncle’s wildlife rescue and preserve, a therapeutic place for not only nature.
Rowan Marcus, an eighteen-year-old cougar shifter, helps at the wildlife refuge. He’s part of a secret society of shifters guarding the preserve lands.
Instinct draws Morgan and Rowan together.
Then one wildcard wildcat within the shifter community kills for the needy, but the killing escalates and threatens Morgan’s life, changing her forever…
Excerpt from Secret: Of Amber Eyes
Word Count - 964
“Gotta’ run honey,” she said over the glass sunroof of the Cadillac. “Our flight leaves in four hours, and I still have a few things left to pack.”
I immobilized as Mom dove into the car to retrieve her phone. She tapped the screen and started the car.
I didn’t wave as she shifted into gear and drove off with her cell phone stuck to her ear.
She never even glanced my way.
From my peripheral, Uncle Charlie and Aunt Becka looked at each other. They weren’t smiling anymore. Mom had never said a word to either of them. She didn’t say goodbye to me, either, unless I counted the trail of dust marking her exit.
Good riddance. Oh, and have a happy life with Jack.
My stomach fluttered, and the inside of my throat tightened like it might collapse in on itself. A load of moisture gathered, blurring my vision. Some trickled alongside my nose. I’m not crying. Extra baggage doesn’t cry; instead, I go to prison.
My body relaxed as if a heavy weight shifted and slipped off. Why not make the best of this crappy situation? I was on the back burner, but not being dumped down the garbage disposal. I wiped away the water littering my face and picked up my two duffle bags. Aunt Becka scooped up my backpack; her thick long blond braid slid over her shoulder.
“This way, dear. You’ve come at a good time with the weather. We’ve got a warm streak going. It isn’t normally nice warm temperatures until much later in the summer.” Aunt Becka led the way into the house. She wore faded denim shorts with a baggy sky-blue T-shirt, short white socks, and high-top hiking boots. She and Uncle Charlie were sun-browned and looked the same age as Mom. The muscles in Aunt Becka’s calves stood out as she climbed the circular stairway.
She continued, “It’s still pretty cool in the mornings and later in the evenings, which makes for great sleeping weather.”
At the top of the stairs, I walked across the open loft to the wall-sized window, dropping my bags mid-way.
Two bright red barns stood off to one side. I recognized the green T-shirt and dark blue baseball cap Uncle Charlie wore. He pushed a wheel-barrow into one of the barns. Another guy walked behind with a huge bag of something balanced on his shoulder. The muscles in his arm bulged. He stopped in mid-step and swung around to look upward, at the window, and then at me.
My stomach suddenly churned into warm pudding as our gazes collided. The guy’s eyes glowed, amber, a trick of the sun I was sure. My breath sucked in.
Aunt Becka stepped beside me and glanced out. “Oh, that’s Rowan Marcus. He’s here pretty much every day helping with chores and with the other kids that aid us at the refuge.”
Rowan swung around and followed Uncle Charlie into the barn. A tremor slid through me, and then I exhaled, realizing I’d completely stopped my lungs from working. What the heck? Amber eyes?
Aunt Becka pointed to the other side of the barn toward tall wire fenced-in areas. “We keep recovering deer or goats in those.” Then she pointed along the outside of the barns, to smaller wire pens. “Those hold fawn or other small animals that need special care.”
I attempted to stay focused on her words, but the image of Rowan and those eyes. My brain fogged over with his image burnt on the inside of my eyelids.
She waved a finger at the dirt paths that connected everything and waited until I looked to continue, “We have cleared pathways to every area that requires our attention, and that tree line marks the perimeter into our wildlife preserve. We own a lot of forest acreage that’s a safe place for our healed wildlife to live.”
A.K.A. my prison grounds.
She squeezed me to her. “It’s wonderful here. I know you’ll love it as much as Charlie and I do.”
I didn’t know how to respond, other than to go rigid and silent. My aunt acted like this was going to be a vacation for me, not punishment. Pulling away from her, I paced the room, taking inventory. Aunt Becka watched me from near the window.
A bed, nightstand, desk, and dresser, all built of knotty pine or logs. A narrow door opened to a closet and beside it, another narrow door led into a small bathroom. Most of the walls and all of the ceilings and floors were knotty wood. No carpet, no curtains. Like being inside a sterile prison, not that I frequented the inside of a real prison cell, but this shiny clean room gave me the impression of ‘no fun, all work.’
I plopped down on the bed and bounced on it a little. Comfortable.
“So, Kate said you and your step-dad are kind of on the outs with each other.” Aunt Becka strolled over and plopped on the bed beside me. “To be honest, Charlie and I didn’t even know Kate had gotten married.”
“Let’s just say I’m used to Mom having flings with her escort men, but she’s never married one of them,” I said, the words slipping from my mouth like a spray of negative ick.
Aunt Becka frowned, and then her face softened. “You’ve had it tough, haven’t you?”
I stared at her, another question I didn’t know how to answer. My nose tingled, an itch inevitable. So, again, I blurted, “No, I’ve been just fine. Mom and I played our roles the best we knew how, and then our roles changed. That’s all.” I rubbed the crap out of my nose, jumped off the bed and unzipped one of the duffle bags.
About the Author:
DK Davis writes YA sci-fi, supernatural, and fantasy with a good dollop of all the relationships woven in between. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, spending time with grandchildren or her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.
She also writes mainstream supernatural, suspense-thriller romance as S. Peters-Davis.
BWL Publishing Inc.: http://bookswelove.net/authors/davis-dk-ya-paranormal/