Stolen Dreams – Christine
Amsden
Cassie Scot #4
New Adult Romance / Urban Fantasy /
Mystery
Date
Published: June 25, 2014
Paperback October 14,
2014
Edward Scot and Victor Blackwood have despised one another for
nearly a quarter of a century, but now their simmering hatred is about to
erupt.
When Cassie Scot returns home from her sojourn in
Pennsylvania, she finds that her family has taken a
hostage. Desperate to end the fighting before someone dies, Cassie seeks help
from local seer Abigail Hastings, Evan Blackwood’s grandmother. But Abigail has
seen her own death, and when it comes at the hand of Cassie’s father, Victor
Blackwood kills Edward Scot.
But things may not be precisely as they
appear.
Evan persuades Cassie to help him learn the truth, teaming them
up once again in their darkest hour. New revelations about Evan and his family
make it difficult for Cassie to cling to a shield of anger, but can Evan and Cassie
stop a feud that has taken on a life of its own? Conclusion to the Cassie Scot
series.
*****
EXCERPT
(From Chapter 7)
“I–” My cell phone rang, saving me the challenge of coming up with a plausible
lie. I answered without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Cassie, dear, how are you and my grandson getting along?” It was Abigail. I
had the volume turned up loud enough that Evan could hear. His eyes widened,
and he stepped closer. Too close, but I pretended the proximity didn’t affect
me in the slightest.
“Abigail, where are you? What are you doing?”
“You know the answer to that question, Cassie. And as much as I’d love to give
you and Evan a chance to work through more of your issues, I find I have a
selfish last request.”
My heart squeezed. “What?”
“I don’t want to die alone.” The words were a bare whisper, but both Evan and I
heard.
“Where are you?”
“At the overlook around back. Hurry.” The call ended.
“What did she mean?” Evan asked. “What do you know?”
I was already on my way out the front door, Evan right on my heals. To simplify
matters, and to get to her as soon as possible, I decided to give him as much
of the truth as I could. “She says someone has to die, and if it’s not her,
then it’s going to be your parents.”
“What? When did she say that?”
“In snatches for a week, but most of it earlier tonight, right before I came
over.” I was out the door now, heading around back up the paved path wide
enough for Abigail’s wheelchair to navigate.
To my immense relief, Evan didn’t question me further. He followed me for a few
paces, then rushed ahead, moving too quickly for me to keep up even when I
broke into a run.
She had her chair parked at the top of the hill, overlooking the lake below and
a spectacular sunset above. Either I had never seen colors so vibrant before,
or I had never paid proper attention. It was as if the heavens were saying
farewell.
My father was nowhere in sight. I had half expected to see him there, and
managed a sigh of relief when I didn’t. It was short lived,
though.
Evan knelt in front of his grandmother, holding her right hand in his. When I
arrived, I sank to the paved earth at her other side, taking her left hand in
mine. The skin was papery thin and so frail I feared it would flake
away.
“Thank you.” She didn’t look at either one of us, and her voice was
whisper-thin.
“You don’t have to die,” Evan said. “There has to be another way out. How are
you going to die?”
“I-I don’t know. I can’t see past my own death. It’s made things... difficult
these past few months.”
“Then how do you know you’re doing the right thing?” I asked. Demanded might be
a better word. “How do you know your death will prevent anything?”
“I didn’t have long to live anyway. My heart is weak, and.... I don’t want to
talk about it. Please. I don’t have long. Talk to me about something nice.”
There was a hitch in her voice that told me no matter how she had prepared for
this moment, she wasn’t ready to die. That realization, more than anything
else, brought the first tears to my eyes.
“Don’t cry for me. I’ll be all right. My husband’s been gone these many years
now, and I’ve been alone.”
I felt Evan’s free hand take mine, and I didn’t even think about yanking it
away. For once, his touch didn’t feel anything except comforting. He needed it.
I needed it. And so it was.
“Did you like my invitations?” Abigail asked.
“Why did you send them?” Evan asked.
“I don’t suppose you two would consider it a dying woman’s last request?” she
asked.
“Nice try,” I said.
Evan didn’t say anything, although I became more aware of his hand holding
mine.
“Seriously,” Abigail said, “will you at least talk to one another? Really
talk?”
I closed my eyes, swallowed hard, and nodded. The request was at least as manipulative
as the first because she knew I couldn’t deny this one. It was too
reasonable.
“Good.” She squeezed my hand.
That’s when her house exploded.
*****
About the Author
Christine Amsden has been writing fantasy and science fiction
for as long as she can remember. She loves to write and it is her dream that
others will be inspired by this love and by her stories. Speculative fiction is
fun, magical, and imaginative but great speculative fiction is about real
people defining themselves through extraordinary situations. Christine writes
primarily about people and relationships, and it is in this way that she
strives to make science fiction and fantasy meaningful for
everyone.
At the age of 16, Christine was diagnosed with Stargardt’s
Disease, a condition that effects the retina and causes a loss of central
vision. She is now legally blind, but has not let this slow her down or get in
the way of her dreams.
In addition to writing, Christine teaches workshops on writing
at Savvy Authors. She also does some freelance editing
work.
Christine currently lives in the Kansas City area with her
husband, Austin, who has been her biggest fan and the key to her success. They
have two beautiful children.
*****
Author Links
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*****
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