Introducing the preliminary blurb for my new novel, Shadow Road along with a part of Chapter 1(first draft).
In a quaint little village, a demon lurks; a dark legend gives birth to a powerful corporation that survives and feeds off trust and imagination.
A cruel man consumed with hatred and a desire for vengeance, creates a force so powerful and vindictive, it spreads out to destroy everything beyond measure …until she enters his life.
With ideas of her own and her own past to battle, she unwittingly falls prey to his grand designs of dominion.
A saga of love that emerges from the very shadows of cruelty and apathy, and secrets that were best kept buried, tend to destroy it in every step of the way.
CHAPTER 1: THE DIE IS CAST
She fumbled through the papers on the oak desk as quickly as she could. Her heart palpitated and her forehead perspired. She struggled with a bated breath lest it should betray her. Something gleamed from under a pile of documents. She turned around to look at the door that stood half open leading to the staircase. She lifted the papers careful not to disturb the arrangement of things and found his phone. She went straight to his emails and started scrolling down. She scanned several weeks’ worth of emails and when she was about to give up, something caught her eye. There were a series of messages he had emailed to himself. Conversations between him and Sheila. She cast her glance over them not uttering a sound. Her reverie was broken by the familiar sound of clicking claws with the bearer galloping down the stairs with its tongue rolling from side to side. She knew what was about to come. She put the phone back quickly, praying for the screen light to dim. She pretended to go about arranging papers in a medical file. The spunky young Labrador burst in to the room and charged straight at her, wagging its tail in ferocious glee as it went about her ankles with its wet snout and drooping ears. This display was rather strange for the young man who had followed the dog in to the room. The dog had settled itself near her feet. This rather unusual display troubled him. And he looked at the strange frumpy woman in front of him. She was so exceptionally hideous that one wouldn’t want to spend even a few seconds in the same room with her. To make matters worse, her loyalty and good manners were reserved only for the old bed-ridden lady who had employed her as a nurse-companion. Therefore, she made it quite clear that she could not stand anyone else. She did not fear any back lash because of her employer’s good will towards her due to a tragic past where she lost her family and all her money. Unlike his usual way of disregarding anyone who didn’t serve some purpose to him, the young man was surprised by his curiosity towards this strange out-of-place character who seemed such a well placed yet an incoherent part in the settings. He discovered what others had meant when they said they couldn’t keep her out of their mind. There was something strange about her, an aura of hypnotic volubility, sometimes professing a sinister shadow of fate that was going to engulf everyone under the roof of that great house. He took a deep breath, wondering to himself why he was still lingering there in her presence. Was it something about those half-hidden eyes underneath the unkempt bushy mass of hair, or the wontedly shabby overalls and the limp. Were nurses supposed to be that way? “Shouldn’t we give her some decent clothes to wear? Old coats or something?” he remembered mentioning to Sheila once. “Her lot?” Sheila had retorted disdainfully, lighting a cigarette from his pack, “She’ll probably sell it first off and buy some cheap liquor for herself.” The strange woman seemed to have read his thoughts. “You must be wondering why they keep me. They couldn’t find anyone with the wages they pay me neither would they get the quality of services I render.” “Undoubtedly”, said he, his strong drawl adding a patient spark to that book-room, “and none so eloquent.” He then looked up from a file he was going through, “I am wondering at this dog. It seems to be completely taken in by you and it cannot be your appearance that we can attribute it to.” “Yes, it’s rather nice to have a kindred spirit around this hovel of gloom,” said the woman with a deliberate maliciousness in her tone that quickly robbed the pleasantness his patient voice had added to the room. The man smiled at her. The woman took out a letter from her pocket and handed it over to him. He did not take the letter at once like the others who looked away immediately. He kept starting at her extended hand, barely visible under the over-sized sleeve holding out the letter. He looked in to her half hidden eyes that looked at him with a steady gaze, with a slight hint of distaste and her mouth pursed. Her papery skin seemed to peel off with every frown. “I was asked to deliver it to you.” The young man took the letter smiling to himself. He went to the table to extract his phone from underneath the pile. With one last look at her, he turned and started towards the door. The dog did not follow him out. He turned to find him settling under a chair near the woman’s feet. With one last glance at the ominous figure staring at him, the young man straightened himself and walked away. He had an inkling about what all this was about.
##### a few months ago####
The wood creaked as the old woman tried to get a better sight of the unvarnished fishing boat. A girl with sprawling curly black hair, tugged at a weathered rope to haul the boat closer to the embankment. She then tied it to the stub of an old tree, putrid with rot, discarded and derelict from all lushness of life surrounding it. For a moment, the girl stood there gazing at the small wooden house, partly hidden behind over-grown vegetation. She had heard stories about that cabin. An old man apparently committed murder and then killed himself by drowning in that very lake.The house had been left unused for many years, no one wanted to buy it. It still appeared unused, but the girl knew better. It was in a part of the estate where its disposal wasn’t needed nor did its existence interfere with the lives of those who owned it as they simply considered it a small fleck of past grime.
To be continued……
©2015, Shadow Road by Ananya Mukherjee and The Idea Bucket. No part of the text and/or pictures are to be modified, reused or republished. Sharing in original form with due credit to the author is always welcome.:) Please use the sharing buttons below if you want to share it with a friend or a loved one.