It was a good feeling, purring along, sometimes being overtaken by speeding cars, even occasionally overtaking slow ones myself. I’d only driven short distances previously, and as we swallowed up the miles I needed all my concentration to combat the drowsiness creeping into me. I’d had the driver’s window half-open for the last few miles but now wound it down fully, enjoying the refreshing blast of air. I could still feel my eyes closing, though, and it was a real effort to stop them from shutting. Even shaking my head violently only brought me back to full alertness for a few seconds before the weariness was back. As if something were telling me that it was okay to go to sleep. Gentle. Soothing. Join Mark and Helen. Asleep, it seemed to be saying. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. It was like being pleasantly merry. Surely it couldn’t have been the effects of the vodka I’d drunk on the beach. Half of me kept fighting the feeling. Wake up, for fuck’s sake, insisted one inner voice. But the other half of me. . . . No, said another, much more soothing inner voice. Go to sleep. You know you want to. You’re drowsy. You want to doze. It’s okay. Doze. If only for a few seconds. You’ll wake refreshed. Shaking my head, I raised my eyebrows as high as they would go in an effort to stop my eyes slipping shut. I tried to read the speedometer but the dial swam crazily around the dashboard. The road was now hurtling beneath the windscreen at a frantic pace. But all I wanted to do was sleep. Vaguely, I saw the dot swing round the bend about 300 yards in front of us, growing rapidly all the time until it took the shape of a car. Hurtling ever nearer. Nearer. Nearer. A single powerful and penetrating note launched a vicious assault on my ears, drowning out the insistent words that were still trying to lull me to sleep. Suddenly I saw two beams of bright light flashing angrily and constantly. Headlights. A car horn. The car heading straight for us was no more than a few yards away, braking, swerving sharply. In the split second when my senses returned and I hauled the wheel round, I caught sight of a man’s malicious face leering at me in the mirror. It was a face of utmost evil, but was gone before I had time to register its features. All that showed in the mirror now were Helen and Mark being jerked around by the car’s sudden erratic spinning.
Title: In Shadows Waiting
Author: Stewart Bint
Genre: Paranormal, Horror
Young Simon Reynolds lives a bucolic life at his family home, White Pastures, surrounded by a loving family and a charming community. Simon finishes his A levels and looks forward to unwinding while his sisters work on their tans.
Meanwhile the tiny community of Meriton has been plagued by a spate of burglaries, and White Pastures seems to be next. A shadowy figure stalks the house, but the police can find no signs of an intruder.
Inspired by the author’s real-life experience with the supernatural, In Shadows Waiting recounts a summer that changes the Reynolds’ lives forever. As the summer progresses, the shadows take on an altogether more sinister implication, and White Pastures begins to reveal a terrifying secret.
The epicenter of an event that has scarred an entire community, White Pastures grows more and more dark, possessed by a shadow that yearns, a shadow that will not be denied. At White Pastures, someone will die — but love never will.
Stewart Bint is a novelist, magazine columnist and PR writer. He lives with his wife Sue in Leicestershire in the UK, and has two children, Christopher and Charlotte. As a member of a local barefoot hiking group, when not writing he can often be found hiking barefoot on woodland trails.
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