Howdy,
I’m excited to share the beginning of Brenna’s adventure to the South Pacific with you. This book contains a hint of supernatural elements…enough to make the island mysterious. (I like my Jules Verne!) But the core of the book is romantic suspense.
ECHOES in the Water harkens back to the old Gothic romantic suspense novels. The romance is clean. It’s more about the romantic tension between these two strangers.
This book is available for a special preorder price of $3.99. It will be $4.99 on release day.
Anyway…here’s the opening scene:
BRENNA FINLAY glanced up at the clock above her classroom door. Ten minutes until her fourth-period Intro to Earth Science class. Only a handful of teenagers had signed up, most of them with no interest in rocks or tectonic plates. They’d ended up in the elective because they’d missed the sign-up deadline.
Brenna had taken the job at the charter school out of necessity. It paid just enough to cover rent and student loan interest.
Now, after a long night of studying for her PhD, she carried the same slumped shoulders and glazed eyes as her students.
She looked down at the manila envelope sitting on her desk. It hadn’t been there this morning. The return address made her stomach twist.
She reached for it with trembling fingers.
National Cultural Museum
Honiara Town, Guadalcanal Province
Solomon Islands (SB)
ATTN: Brenna Finlay
Franklin Unity Charter School
Philadelphia, PA 18555
She glanced at the clock again.
Nine minutes.
Was there enough time to open it? Did she want to rush it? Did she even want to open it?
All communication from the Solomon Islands had come six years ago from the Royal Solomon Islands Police Force.
Why this envelope now? From a museum, nonetheless? Had they finally dredged up the wreckage from her mother’s research ship? Was it on morbid display at some exhibition?
Brenna trembled. Tick. Tick. The clock was so loud in the empty classroom.
Eight minutes.
What if it was finally a death certificate? Closure.
Six years ago, her mother, an underwater archaeologist, was aboard the Aroto, a small research vessel that sank off the coast of an unnamed island in the Solomon Islands archipelago in the South Pacific. All lives were lost—or so they said. No bodies were ever recovered. Sharks. Tiger sharks. Bull sharks. All opportunistic and aggressive.
Bottom line. Six years of uncertainty.
When Brenna first learned of the accident, she had traveled there with whatever money her grandmother could scrape together, but the police were no help. They sent her home with the message: “Move on with your life.”
Now, after nearly six years without contact, this envelope shows up on her desk. Not even sent to her apartment. Sent here to her school. Probably the easiest place for this museum to track her down. Her home addresses were never permanent. She moved every time the rent went up.
One last glance.
Seven minutes.
Brenna carefully sliced open the envelope. It contained a single-page note and a plastic-sheathed document.
Miss Finlay,
My name is Jeremiah Gela, and I am the Collections Registrar at the National Cultural Museum. The enclosed item was recently located by a resident of Malaita Island and sent to us for cataloging. After some research, your name came up as a potential recipient. I was able to track you down at your workplace. I hope this reaches you. I have copies here at the museum. If this was sent to you in error, my sincere apologies.
If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.
J. Gela
Brenna frowned and peered at the clock. Through the door’s wired-glass window, she saw students moving about in the hall. She expected early arrivals any second now. She should set the envelope aside.
The laminated page slid out, exposing yellowed, torn paper with salt stains and smudged, hastily written letters.
The classroom door opened. Several sixteen-year-olds stepped in.
Brenna’s heart pounded in her ears, drowning them out.
June 16 – I think
Pebbles,
I’m alive. We washed up on an island. The ship is gone. There’s something—someone here. I hear them. I don’t know where I am. But we are going to follow the voices. I have no phone. I wanted to write you before we move on. I hope this reaches you. I love you.
Mom
“Miss Finlay? Are you okay?”
Brenna jerked at the sound and dropped the envelope onto her lap.
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” Cathy Sorenski, a tall red-headed girl in jeans and a hoodie, paused in front of Brenna’s desk as other students shuffled in and took their seats, the din of their conversation barely intelligible.
“Yeah—yes. Sure.” Brenna stammered and thrust the letters into her desk drawer, slamming it shut. “Why?”
“You’re shaking.” Cathy frowned. “You seriously look like you might throw up. Noro’s going around.”
Even as she said it, Cathy backed away from the desk and raised her sleeve over her mouth. She might as well have pointed a crucifix laced with garlic at Brenna.
“I’m fine,” Brenna whispered, but the girl was already at her desk.
“I’m fine,” Brenna repeated to no one.
But she stared at her desk drawer and could hear the words locked away inside it.
We’re going to follow the voices.
There’ll be more to come! And there is a possibility that the release of this book might be moved up earlier. Fingers crossed! ❤️
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