The Secrets of Moonshine by Denise Daisy

Author:Denise Daisy [Denise Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9781466318625
Google: IjbRygAACAAJ
Amazon: 1466318627
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2011-05-01T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Bronwyn.”

The summons caused her to stir. She turned over to her side and gave way to her slumber, relaxing to the serenade of the frogs, crickets and the continual hoot of an owl. She had grown familiar with the quiet, peaceful sounds of the mountains that filled her room each night.

“Bronwyn.”

The gentle whisper of her name fell softly upon her ear.

Her eyes flew open. She glanced about the room. Bethany and Lillian were sound asleep, neither one having called her name.

The room was empty and quiet; only the hum from the rotating ceiling fan penetrated the silence. She lay still; listening, and then decided that perhaps she had been dreaming, so she closed her eyes.

“Bronwyn.”

This time there was no mistaking what she heard. It was the same voice that called to her the first night in Moonshine, the voice from the mournful song that beckoned her, into the forest, as it drifted through the trees whispering her name.

The heat began again, permeating upward. Pulling back the feather comforter, she climbed out of the bed, making her way to the open window, hoping the cool night breeze would cause the penetrating heat to subside. A dense fog hung in the air, obstructing her view of the inn’s grounds and nearby river. Although she could not see if anyone was outside her window, she heard a faint melody of a pan flute, accompanied by the woman’s enticing song. Wrapping her silk robe around her, she slipped out of the room, quietly creeping down the staircase, stealing her way outside. She stopped cold at the porch steps, wondering why she would venture out into the dark night alone, in search of the beckoning voice, especially since she knew there were disturbing secrets at play. She had a fleeting thought to go wake Bethany and have her accompany her, but decided against it when she heard the woman call again. This time there seemed to be urgency in her voice that empowered her with new found courage, so she abandoned the thought and entered the thick fog, then sprinted across the lawn. Reaching the edge of the river, she paused and listened. The woman’s haunting voice grew louder, and even though the woman sung in a language she had never heard, Bronwyn understood the words of the song explicitly. The lyrics brought overwhelming sorrow, consuming her as the fog began to swirl around her while other voices joined the unseen woman in song, all as equally haunting.

“Listen can you hear us?

Can you hear her?

Do you not recognize her call?

Awa is whispering,

Whispering that your deliverance is near.

The vexed voices of many have risen in song.

They inhabit the roar of the ocean;

They howl along with the wind,

Their tears combine with the falling rain,

Their moans give depth to the claps of thunder.

They are singing; Please set us free. Please set us free.”

The fog swirled and blew closer, nearly suffocating her in its thickness. It was then she realized the fog was not a fog at all, but a chorus of pale and ghostly women with strikingly beautiful faces.

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