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Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Wildcard Wednesdays ~ Windwood Farm by Rebecca Patrick-Howard



  • Wildcard Wednesdays

  • featuring

  • Windwood Farm 
  • Book One, Taryn's Camera Series


  • Rebecca Patrick-Howard 


Publisher & Date Published: Mistletoe Press April 2014

Book Blurb:

Windwood Farm has a terrible secret–one that’s been buried for more than 75 years…
Thirty year old Taryn Magill has spent her professional life exploring historical buildings and abandoned homes. With degrees in Art and Historical Preservation, she uses her camera and oil paints to recreate the once beloved and grand structures of yesterday for her clients, showing them how the buildings would have appeared in their prime. With her latest assignment at Windwood Farm, however, she may have bitten off more than she can chew.
            Now, when Taryn looks through her camera, she sees more than decay and empty rooms; she’s finally able to see the past come alive as the formerly grand house begins to fill with furniture and belongings before her very eyes.
            Every old house is supposed to be haunted, but this one seems to take the cake. Why does the young woman weep from the upstairs bedroom? Why is the sense of evil so strong that even vandals have stayed away for more than 50 years? What happened to the young neighbor who disappeared in the 1920s and does his disappearance have anything to do with the house’s mysteries?
            More importantly, will Taryn herself be able to escape with her sanity and life before the house comes down? Because now it seems like someone is trying to kill her! Using what her camera reveals to her and her wits, she’ll try to unravel the mysteries of the farm and get out before it’s too late. 

Buy Links: 

Barnes and Noble: http://tinyurl.com/nyhwwaf


Author Bio:

Rebecca Patrick-Howard's real biography isn't nearly as interesting as the one she's made up in her head so she'll leave you with that one:

At the age of 3, her family sold her to a band of traveling gypsies. Forced to become a bareback rider in the circus, she spent her younger years traveling the country, living out of suitcases and selling macrame keychains on the side. At the age of 16 she became a professional yodeler but, after winning the international yodeling competition in Switzerland at 19, decided to retire at the height of her career. Now, she and her husband (an organic rutabaga farmer from Wales) live in an isolated cabin in eastern Kentucky where they play with a local mariachi band every Friday night, are involved with a murder mystery dinner theater club, and enjoy making origami owls.

Book website: www.tarynscamera.com
Twitter: @Rphwrites






Without the boards on the windows and door, it was easier to see. She thought (hoped) the extra light might make the house feel more gracious, yet the welcoming feeling she’d experienced outside disappeared as soon as she stepped through the front door.
Once she circled through the downstairs, she made her way to the first set of stairs in the living room and put her foot on the first step. All at once, a roar so loud, she felt as though her ear drums would pop from the deafening sound filled the room to a raucous level. Staggering, she fell backward and scraped her lower back against the wooden stairs behind her. As she clutched at her chest, she pushed against an invisible force that seemed to thrust against her. The rumble continued all around her, filling the air at an incredible volume, the sound neither man nor animal.
            An astonishing wind swept through the room and up the staircase, whipping her hair around her and sending hot air down her throat, making her unable to talk or scream. Gasping for breath, she struggled to talk or breathe and began choking, gagging, wheezing. The front door, which she’d left open, closed with a bang. In horror, she watched small cracks appear in the living room windows and then watched as the glass shattered and flew out into the yard in hundreds of pieces. Using her hands and sheer strength, Taryn managed to grab onto the banister and pull her way up, inch by inch. Finally, by wrapping her legs around the banister, straddling it, and turning her back to the door and wind, she caught her breath. Using what breath she had left, she screamed with everything she had, “WHAT DO YOU WANT!?”
            As quickly as it started, everything stopped.
            Taryn was left on the banister, like a little kid who had simply been caught sliding down from the top of the stairs. There was utter stillness again with no sign that anything had happened, other than the fact that the windows were broken and the door was closed.

            Shaken, she unwound herself from the banister and ran out the front door, not bothering to close it behind her.  She’d let the ghost deal with that. 


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