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Helen Osterman
Category:
Mystery/Suspense
Publisher: Helen Osterman
ISBN-10: 1537091085
Type: Fiction
Pages: 224
Copyright: October, 2016
ISBN-13: 9781537091082
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Marian blake live in Portland Oregon.
Net Petrone lives in the Chicago area. What is the connection between the two women?
Marian Blake lives in Portland Oregon with her husband and twin daughters. She has traumatic amnesia and does not remember her life before she was nineteen.
Net Petyrone lives in a suburb of Chicago. She takes a part time job at The Toffee Shop. The shop is broken into, supplies are stolen and a man is murdered. Who is doing this and why?
Excerpt
Marian Blake sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Last night she’d had that dream again. The same one every night for the past two weeks. Could it possibly mean something? Maybe she was starting to remember. She shivered. Did she really want the truth?
The young mother studied the knife scars on her arms. The doctor said they probably happened when she was a teenager. But she had no memory of ever being a teenager. Who was she? Now her life was full and happy: a great husband, two lovely seven-year-old daughters, and a comfortable home. Perhaps it was better this way.
“Hurry up, Mom. We’ll be late for school,” Annette called.
“I’ll drive you to the bus stop,” their father said. “Let your mother sleep a while longer.”
Paul was so considerate. What had Marian done to deserve such a great husband?
“Come on, you two, finish your breakfast, then we’ll be off,” he said.
Marian put on her robe and slippers, pushed back her unruly brown curls and hurried down the stairs. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well.” She kissed her husband, Paul, tall and ruggedly handsome, and gazed in wonder at the twin girls, Annette and Patrice. Annette with blonde curls, bright blue eyes and fair skin, resembled her father; but Patrice had dark hair and brown eyes, with an olive complexion like Marian’s. The sight of them never failed to bring a catch in her throat. What was her heritage? Something was holding her back from remembering. It might be buried so far in her subconscious that she might never be able to bring it to the surface.
“Bye, Mom,” the girls shouted running out the door toward the car. They skipped from one foot to the other and whispered childish secrets to each other.
“I’ll see you tonight, hon,” Paul said, kissing her tenderly.
She hugged him tight, inhaling his masculine scent and caressing the cleft in his square jaw.
“You have an appointment with Dr. Schiller today, right?” Paul asked.
“Uh huh.” A deep frown appeared between her eyes.
“Don’t look so worried. He did say dreams have meaning. This new one might be a memory coming from your subconscious.”
She nodded, forcing a smile. “Do you think so?”
“Dad, we’re gonna to be late,” a frantic voice called.
“Stop worrying.” Paul smiled, kissed his wife again, grabbed his briefcase, and hurried out the door.
Marian stood at the doorway long after they were out of sight. Her husband and daughters meant the world to her. Could remembering mean losing everyone she loved?
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