Book Title: The Mirror
Author: Candace L. Bowser
Release Date: June 18, 2013
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Horror
Length: 280 Pages
Publisher: GMTA Publishing LLC
Presented by: As You Wish Tours
BLURBAdrianna Bristol stood before her grandmother's antique mirror and stared at the black velvet cloth covering it. She just couldn't believe her nana was gone. The mirror had hung in that exact same spot for the last twenty years, never once had it been moved from the alcove. Adrianna remembered the stern words of her grandmother when she was a child. Annabel Bristol had told her, "promise me Adrianna that you will never uncover the mirror. No matter what it may whisper to you, you must never remove the cover." Adrianna laid her hand against the cool velvet which covered the glass. As she walked away the mirror whispered to her, "you belong to me now. You belong to me." A four hundred year old curse has plagued the Bristol family since the 1600's. A curse born out of a love so rich and a betrayal so deep, that time itself has no power to stop it. Only Adrianna has the courage to find the truth behind the curse and set her family free. But will the Mirror release its darkest secrets?
It was cold, raining, and not an ordinary rain by any standard of the definition. The sky grew darker and more morose while the day progressed.
How bizzare the purple backdrop of the horizon is with those dominating and uncanny shades of green; nearly glowing like emerald swashes amongst the billowing black clouds like some warped artist’s canvas. I have never seen a sky so wicked in Bristol Bay.
The winds increased allowing the day to give way to evening, and the sky’s appearance grew wicked. The moment my plane touched down upon the tarmac I felt a sense of relief. I was finally home and never so glad to see the tiny airport.
The driving force of this rain is making it difficult to see.
Rain was not uncommon in Bristol Bay. In fact, it seemed to rain here more than the sun was given the chance to shine. Growing up in a small town and never having lived anywhere else, I grew accustomed to the strange weather. We all did. It was even expected. A day without rain just didn't seem right. This rain was different somehow, more dismal and bone-chilling that usual. My phone rang unexpectedly and somehow knew something was wrong. I could hear the tears in his voice before my brother whispered that she was gone. I could not understand how this happened.
My nana lived a long and fruitful life and died at the age of ninety-five. I could not honestly recall her ever being sick a day in her life. She did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted and no one would dare to argue with her.
How could she be gone? It was only three days ago I saw her last.
As always, she was the picture of perfect health. As I thought about the day I had lunch with her, it suddenly occurred to me how frantic she had behaved.
“Adrianna, please don’t go to Paris,” she had pleaded. “I don’t want you to leave. You need to stay here, in Bristol Bay where you will be safe.”
“Oh Nana, I will only be gone for few days at best. This restoration in Paris will not take nearly as long as the last. I only have to sign off on the last few design changes that need to be done and then I will be home. You will see. It will be like I never left,” I told her.
The days leading up to my flight, Nana seemed uneasy. I could barely initiate a conversation with her before she would burst into tears. I found myself avoiding her for fear of making her cry. She kept to herself, rummaging through old boxes and photographs, rearranging the pictures on the mantle, and talking to herself. None of those things were unusual. Nana was known to stand in front of the mirror and speak to it as if she expected it to answer her. The day my bags were packed to leave I saw her at the bottom of the staircase whispering to the mirror and the old piece of black velvet covering it. Anyone else would have thought Annabel Bristol was senile. To me, she was just being herself.
I told her I would only be gone for a few days and promised she would be the first one seen when my project was complete. I kissed her good-bye and left her standing in the bay window watching me with the curtains slightly parted. Even when turning the sharp corner at the end of the driveway, she was still standing there in the large bay window with the light cascading over her shoulders from the kerosene lamp. I wondered why she wanted me to remain so badly as I boarded my plane but my thoughts quickly turned to the restoration project and what needed to be completed. It never crossed my mind until my phone rang.
Could she have somehow known that she was going to die?