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Mid-Week Tease: Because You Asked, Another Taste of Echoes of the Past

Good morning. I’m back from my camping trip with a slightly deeper tan and a head-full of wonderful family memories–some of which will definitely find their way into my next books.

midweekteaseEchoes of the Past has gotten some great reviews. It isn’t selling as well as I’d hoped, but such is the luck of a writer. Thanks Sandra for allowing me to join you each week and offer a taste of my work. For this week’s Mid-Week Tease, I’m offering another taste of Echoes of the Past.:

From Chapter TEchoesofthePast_MEDwo:

Tony sat in his SUV outside Picton’s town hall. His head pounded, and his hair hurt. The throbbing headache he’d nursed all morning had grown into a migraine, and as much as he’d like to crawl into a room and hide from the light and all sounds, he couldn’t. He undid the leather thong holding his hair back in the classic ponytail he wore and massaged his scalp hoping to ease the tension on his skull. Reluctantly, he finger combed his tangled hair and pulled it into a low, loose ponytail.

He’d taken two migraine relief tablets mid-morning and had put his head down on the table. A sound had alerted him, and he’d sat up. Remembering the brief encounter convinced him it hadn’t been a hallucination, but what else could it have been?

She’d stood in the kitchen dressed in buckskin, with that blanket of hers wrapped around her shoulders, her hair plaited into two braids, one of each side of her beautiful face. On her feet she’d worn a pair of intricately beaded buckskin moccasins. She’d crossed the floor, and he’d stood and opened his arms to her. She’d raised her hand to his face, traced the scratch on his cheek, and smiled up at him, the unspoken request clear in her eyes. He’d kissed her as he had so many times before. As his tongue invaded her mouth, plundering her sweetness, he’d hardened with desire. She’d pulled away slightly, giggled softly, and pointed to the obvious bulge in his jeans. Her eyes shone with happiness.

“Who are you? How did you get here?” He’d tried to capture her mouth again, but she shook her head.

“Tohsa sata:ti.” She’d pressed her finger against his lips for silence. “Satahon’satat.” She’d touched his ears. “Senehia:rak. Eniorhen’ne iotohetston nen:tie. Senehia:rak.”

He hadn’t understood the words and had asked her name.


“Tayouroughay” He’d repeated the strange word. He’d reached for her, but she’d faded away right before his eyes.

He’d stood there, shivering, staring at the empty space where she’d stood seconds before. What had she said? What did it mean? If he’d imagined it all, the words would be gibberish, but if it had been real somehow—and he couldn’t imagine it had been—the words would be Mohawk. He’d stop and see his friend Joseph Smoke, an elder on the Tyendinaga reserve, before returning to the inn. He’d find out the truth once and for all. Why the hell was a Mohawk ghost haunting him? He didn’t know why, but he had a sense of anticipation he couldn’t suppress. Something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.

He ran his hand down his cheeks. The scratch was red and swollen. Damn! With the morning he’d had, he’d forgotten to shave, and it looked as if he’d slept in his clothes. Could he look any less professional? No wonder the mayor and his toadies didn’t take him seriously.

Why in hell had Aaron and Lindsay been out in that storm? If they’d been in that canoe, like the police suspected, then where were their damn lifejackets? No one was to go out on the lake without a personal floatation device. How many times had he repeated that litany? Guilt ate at him, and he popped another antacid tablet into his mouth. Only a crazy person would have gone out on the water last night, and those two hadn’t been crazy.

He’d argued with Aaron and Lindsay at lunch yesterday. They’d asked to go to the police, but he’d cautioned them to wait. The last thing anyone needed was misinterpreted findings like those. Could one of the locals have overheard them? He’d wanted to check the results himself. He’d never doubted their work before, why yesterday? Last night he’d run those water samples himself a dozen times, and the results were the same. Aaron and Lindsay were right. Someone was cooking methamphetamine and dumping the waste products directly into the lake.

Nothing else could account for the high levels of ammonia hydroxide, one of the by-products in the production of the synthetic drug. If one of the locals was involved…They’d gone to the drug store in Picton. Had they inadvertently discovered something that had gotten them killed? Cold medication was key in synthesizing the drug. There was no way he’d believe this had been an accident.

He should have contacted the police, but with what? Unsubstantiated data wasn’t necessarily proof, and the meth lab could be anywhere on the island. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. His hydrology project had morphed into a potential ecological and environmental disaster. Water from the Lake of the Mountain fed directly into the Bay of Quinte and Lake Ontario. Hell, the entire Saint Lawrence River could be poisoned. How many towns and cities between here and the ocean drew their drinking water from the river? How could anybody be so irresponsible? Every pound of meth created meant five pounds of poison dumped into the water. Assuming the lab was new, the level of toxins in the water had no way to go but up.

He planned to share their findings with the mayor as soon as the cocky son of a bitch granted him an audience. He couldn’t stand the man, and for some reason Mayor Ron didn’t like him either, but maybe the guy would lighten up and cut him some slack since poisoned water wasn’t something he’d want either. The mayor could alert the police to be on the look-out for increased meth sales in the area, and maybe they’d consider whatever had happened to Lindsay and Aaron hadn’t been an accident.

Echoes of the Past is available from

  1. Amazon com


Don’t forget to check out this week’s other teasers.



Finally retired after more than 30 years as a teacher! Now, I get to spend my time gardening, enjoying my grandchildren, and writing. I finally completed the number one item in my bucket list and Crimson Romance published my first novel, Fire Angel, in April 2013. Since then I have published 24 manuscripts to date and don't plan to quit writing for a long time yet.

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