Riverbend Book 2

#FindingHunter Available in Print Format Now!

/ Marcia Meara / 2 Comments

Final FH Cover Smaller

Woohoo! Finding Hunter is now available in print as well as Kindle format. Here’s the blurb from amazon:

Before, I never thought about taking a life. Not once.
Now, the thought fills my mind day and night, and
I wonder how I’ll hide that terrible need,
As an old car swings to the shoulder,
And stops.

~ Traveling Man ~

Hunter Painter’s darkest fears have shaped his offbeat personality since he was a child, crippling him in ways invisible to those unable to see past his quiet exterior. In a sleepy Florida town known for its eccentric inhabitants, he’s always been a mystery to most.

Only one person sees beyond Hunter’s quirky facade. Willow Greene, the new age herbalist who owns the local candle and potpourri shop, has secretly loved him since they were in high school. When, sixteen years later, she discovers Hunter has loved her just as long, Willow hopes her dreams are finally coming true.

Soon, Willow learns that Hunter fears happiness at her side isn’t in the cards for him. With her natural optimism and courage, she almost convinces him he’s wrong—that they can really have that life together they both long for—but even Willow can’t stop what Hunter knows is coming.

One by one, his worst nightmares become reality, culminating in an unthinkable tragedy, which devastates everyone it touches. Willow’s battle begins in earnest as Hunter is plunged into a bleak, guilt-ridden despair, threatening to destroy not only their love, but Hunter, himself.

Finding Hunter is the story of a lost man’s desperate struggle to make his way home again, and one woman’s unshakeable faith in him and the power of their love.

*

Hope some of you will check it out here:

Finding Hunter

#ExcerptWeek #FindingHunter WIP by #MarciaMeara

/ Marcia Meara / 6 Comments

It’s good to see these wonderful excerpts popping up. I’ve got another to post for a new member shortly, but first, here’s a little surprise. This is the “prologue” though it isn’t called that, from my current WIP, Finding Hunter. This is Book 2 of the Riverbend series, and those who have read Book 1, Swamp Ghosts, will know who the Hunter in question is. The book is in edit, currently, and we are working toward a September release date. So, without further ado, you can be the first to read the opening lines of Finding Hunter.

The Traveling Man
~~~ 

Dawn, August 1, 2013 

EVERYTHING WAS PAIN. Everything he felt, everything he remembered. Pain, and pain, and pain. His dreams echoed with sounds of agony, screams ricocheting through his head. Pain—and blood. Rivers of blood. Scarlet, coppery-scented puddles spreading in front of him.

He woke on his knees, vomiting in the grass. Afterward, he crawled back up onto the park bench, mouth sour, and head throbbing. Shivering, he tried to push the dreams away, but they weren’t ready to let him go.

He had done something bad. That was the problem. Worse than bad—something unthinkable. This crime was the root of all his dreams, and if only he could remember, he’d know what he needed to do next. But every time he tried to get it straight in his head, the screams would start again, followed by that God-awful, unrelenting pain.

As the day woke up around him, he huddled on the bench, with the smell of rotgut whiskey on his breath, and sledgehammers pounding inside his skull. He scrubbed at his eyes, as if that would wipe away the images of all that blood, and make the last echoes of those tortured screams disappear. It didn’t work.

There had to be a way to make it all end. When it came to him, he was surprised at the simplicity of the solution. Something—someone—needed to die. Fight fire with fire, blood with blood, pain with pain. Oh, yes. That was the answer.

Shuffling to his unsteady feet, he stumbled through the morning mist. He had no idea where he was—not even which state he was in, let alone the name of this little town—but he heard the unmistakable whoosh of cars speeding down a highway. In five minutes, he stood by the edge of the southbound lane, holding out his thumb. Instinct told him the direction to travel, and desperation kept him upright, as he waited for the ride that would take him where he needed to go.

His plan was simple. If death would bring an end to this pain, then someone was going to die.

 

Excerpt from Hunter, Riverbend Book 2

/ Marcia Meara / Leave a comment

Those of you who have read Swamp Ghosts and keep asking when Hunter is coming out will be glad to know it’s still on schedule for a late summer, early fall publication date. And just as a special treat for ya, I’m sharing the Prologue here today. This is a Work In Progress, so it will no doubt be tightened and polished a good bit in editing, but here’s the rough draft. Enjoy!

***

Dawn, March 20, 2014
~~~

EVERYTHING WAS PAIN. Everything he felt, everything he remembered. Pain, and pain, and pain. His dreams were filled with sounds of agony, screams ricocheting through his head. And blood. Rivers of blood, forming scarlet, coppery-scented puddles that spread across the darkness.

He woke up on his knees, vomiting into the grass. Afterward, he crawled back up onto the park bench, mouth sour, and head throbbing. Shivering, he tried to push the dreams away, but they weren’t ready to let him go.

Something bad, that was the  problem. He had done something bad. Worse than bad. Something unthinkable. He understood that his crime was the root of all his dreams, and if only he could remember, he’d know what he needed to do next. But when he tried to get it straight in his head, the screams would start again, followed by that God-awful, unrelenting pain.

As the day dawned around him, he huddled bent over on the bench, the smell of cheap whiskey on his breath, and sledgehammers pounding inside his skull. He scrubbed at his eyes, as though that would wipe away the images of all that blood, and make the last echoes of those agonized screams disappear. His only clear thought was how to make it all end. Something—someone—needed to die. Fight fire with fire, blood with blood, pain with pain.  Oh, yes. That was the answer.

Shuffling to his unsteady feet, he walked through the morning mist. He had no idea what state he was in, let alone the name of this little town, but he heard the unmistakable whoosh of cars speeding down a highway. In five minutes, he stood by the edge of the southbound lane, holding out his thumb. Instinct told him the direction to travel, and desperation kept him upright, as he waited for the ride that would take him where he needed to go. His plan was simple. If death would bring an end to this pain, then someone was going to die.