Between Two Souls - Softcover

MacLeod, Donna

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1449028918 ISBN 13: 9781449028916

Verlag: AuthorHouse, 2009

Inhaltsangabe

Donna MacLeod turns to the theme of man's eternal search for spiritual enlightenment. She expertly reaffirms the power of faith, mind and love in a world that has become remote and indifferent. In Between Two Souls, the reader is taken into the heart and mind of Concetta Tullio, a mother who struggles to endure an unfathomable loss, the loss of her son. Her journey back to sanity takes many twists and turns. She shares this journey with her husband Frank, and daughter Donna. Frank doubts God's existence and shows little raw emotion when in Concetta's presence. Donna sees another side of her father that he keeps locked up from the rest of the world. Together, they look for explanations to assemble the pieces of an intricate, lifetime puzzle of unusual, paranormal occurrences that are more complicating than they could have imagined. In the final days of Concetta's life, she encounters a mysterious yet glorifying revelation thus unlocking humanity's most sacred secret. Can Frank, a realist, unlock that same secret when his final days come?

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Donna MacLeod's passion for writing has been a lifelong pursuit, fueled by the inspiration received from her college journalism professor. Even though she was a business major, her love for creative writing evolved, and after penning a book on personal loss in 2009, her desire for creative writing continued to grow. This led her to write this book intended to educate young children on the differences between people and the importance of acceptance.While working with children as a substitute teacher when her own children were young, she witnessed bullying in the classroom. This inspired her to create Chili Chinchilla, a beautiful but different chinchilla. In todays world, it's more important than ever to teach children to accept those who appear to be different. Donna has three grown children and three grandchildren. She resides in Plymouth, Massachusetts, where she is retired from a career in real estate, sales, and management.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Between Two Souls

By Donna MacLeod

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 Donna MacLeod
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-2891-6

Chapter One

Trembling in fear, she ran toward the door in a state of blank mindlessness, her eyes blazing wildly and a burning sensation sweeping upward from her feet. The burning scorched her eyes, causing her head to ache. She began to choke while clearing an acrid taste that had developed in her mouth, then slapped open the door loud and angry. She looked to her left, where a beautiful red cardinal perched on the forsythia bush near the driveway. Her eyes widened in confusion. The cardinal looked back but did not move. For a moment, their eyes were locked.

Dressed in one of her many floral housecoats, she was slight in stature. Set into her full, round face, her emerald eyes were glazed over and unfocused. Her tiny mouth was struggling to form words as her mind raced trying to process what was happening but could not. Barely conscious of her actions, she looked up the hill. With a sweep of her loose golden hair, she began to rotate her head, and while moving her head furiously, she ran, still puffing short gasps of breath. Then her mouth opened wide.

Long and high pitched, the primal terror scream was heard at the far end of the street. As neighbors ran furiously from their homes to see what the clamor was, some thought for a moment that it was all a ruse, part of the day. It was Halloween 1989.

Frances, the first neighbor to arrive, had heard the scream as she was baking biscotti in her kitchen. She stopped rolling her dough just long enough to determine that the sound was a human scream, not some animals fighting on the street. She ran toward the noise, and stood face to face with Connie, who was motioning incoherently toward the house. Without asking any questions, Frances reached the door, which was still slightly ajar. Connie stumbled in behind her. The house was silent. Frances stood in the living room for a moment, and Connie came up from behind. With anguish distorting her face, Connie staggered toward the bedroom, and summoned another scream. Frances looked into the bedroom just long enough to observe the horror. She ran into Connie's kitchen, grabbed the telephone, and dialed 911. Connie stood in the doorway trembling, her eyes fixated on the scene before her. Frances returned and held onto her so she would not fall. A tense silence prevailed as they stood embraced searching for any sign of life from his body. Still not able to speak, Connie fell to her knees shaking by the bedside. Then they heard the ambulance coming down the street. With its siren blaring, it lurched to a stop in front of the home, where a small cluster of neighbors had now gathered. Three paramedics sprang out and began unloading from the back of the truck. Frances met them at the door.

"He's in there," she said, pointing. "He's not breathing."

"Thank you, ma'am. We'll take it from her," the paramedic replied.

Another paramedic pulled out a stretcher and some other equipment, and they hurried into the house.

He was being moved onto the floor. From somewhere outside his body, somewhere near the ceiling, he watched them lay him on the rose colored shag carpet that was secured to the living room floor. He heard noises. He wasn't sure if they were coming from him. His eyes flapped open, huge and gaping, at two strangers in nameless horror. When trying to revive him with chest compressions failed, the paramedics began using an external defibrillator. Again, they followed with another ten minutes of compressions, until they finally were able to detect a faint pulse and some shallow breathing. They placed a line in the patient's arm. He closed his eyes. His skin was pale and sheened with sweat. He felt his body shake as it was being prodded. Then he was being lifted. Again. The paramedics packed up their equipment, draped a blanket over him, and transported to the nearest medical facility, which was only five minutes away, leaving his sixty-five-year-old mother sitting slumped in a living room chair-paralyzed.

A peculiar uneasiness blanketed me from the moment I woke. Looking around the room, my eyes widened. I shrugged and readied myself for the task at hand. Usually, the anticipation of the day lifted my spirits, as I remembered Halloween through the eyes of a child. I thought of Mom, reveling in the festivities as each year she would host another party for me and my friends in our damp, dark turn-of-the-century basement. With an uneven dirt floor, one tiny, nearly opaque window, and cobwebs clinging lazily from almost every hand hewn beam, the basement provided the perfect setting for screams, treats, and dancing.

"Great party, Donna. Great food. What fun!

"Yes," I reply. "Lots of fun." Then without warning, the lights were turned down low. The clamor hushed, and all eyes turned toward the staircase. Standing huddled in place with our arms wrapped tightly around each other, our eyes search widely for reaction. We don't dare speak for fear of interrupting the pervasive silence that has swept us up in its path. But soon a loud thumping breaks the conqueror's hold, and the basement stairs seem to echo with each and every thump. There is a pause after the last thump, and with that pause we expel such blood-curdling shrieks that they should have been enough to send the creature back to where it came from, but they didn't. There before us is a monster wearing blue jeans and sneakers. The mask seems to open at an unnatural orifice, and it howls so realistically that you swear a wolf is skinning the hide right off your back.

My brother Phil always the prankster, wearing the scariest, most gruesome masks he could find at the local costume store each year. Mom follows behind laughing hysterically and carrying yet another bowl of cupcakes, candy, and soda. Even in her golden years, when most of her neighbors had turned out their front lights and stopped giving out candy, Mom was ready at the front door with bowls brimming, a smile on her face and a witch's hat on her head.

Many years had passed. I now had two girls of my own and tried to carry on the traditions Mom held so dear. I smiled at the memories, shuffled on my slippers, and wrapped up in my bathrobe. I walked down the front staircase and opened the door. The sky was gray and dull. It was unseasonably warm, the air thick with anticipation of rain and an innocuous veil hanging over the town. I felt a gentle breeze churn silently over my head. I paused and closed the door. Hmm, I thought, it must be the weather.

Within seconds, my girls were stumbling down the stairs behind me, almost tripping over their costumes. They settled in at the breakfast table and began shoveling cereal into their anxious little mouths.

Nicole, at nine years old, was dressed as a geisha. The ebony wig styled into an enormous pouf, black liner for eyebrows, porcelain skin, and fire engine red lipstick were sensational, and a complete contrast to her own blonde hair, green eyes, and peaches-and-cream skin. She wore a lovely authentic kimono, brought back from a recent trip to Japan. Nicole was every bit a little lady; demure and sweet, she loved to wear dresses. "Look at you two. You look great!" I said. "Too bad Nana won't get to see you all dressed up. You know how she loves Halloween."

"It's okay, Mom. Maybe you can drive us over to see her after we come home from trick-or-treating," Nicole replied.

"I don't think so, honey. It will be very late, but we'll see how the evening goes."

I grabbed their sweaters and gestured toward the...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: AuthorHouse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2009
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1449028918
• ISBN 13: 9781449028916
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 196
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Europaallee 1; Bad Hersfeld; 36244; Deutschland