Light, Speed, Time

By L.V. Waterman

A young photography student thought she had glimpsed something strange through her camera. Or was it just a trick of the light? Crossing a few lines, she is determined to piece the clues together to solve a mystery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L.V. Waterman
• Release date: Jul 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311170095

L.V. Waterman

L.V. Waterman is an author and a graphic designer, who currently lives in "sunny" Suffolk, UK. She has been writing fiction since late teens. All starting from her and sister taking turns in making up stories and telling each other at bedtime, then soon began writing them down. Genres varied and crossed, but mostly interested in Mystery, Thriller, Speculative, Paranormal, YA. First published work is a short novella "Light, Speed, Time" (originally written in 2009), which is now part one of a planned YA series.

Book preview

Light, Speed, Time

L.V. Waterman

Copyright 2015, 2016 L.V. Waterman. All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover by Lpixel

Stock Photo by Natulrich.com/Bigstockphoto

Editing by Emma L. Adams

This is a work of fiction. References to historical events involving real people or places in this book are mainly fictitious. Other names, characters, businesses, places and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Links

Chapter 1

Crouching on the grass, her heart pounding fast, Vicky slowly opened her eyes and blinked. She brushed her long auburn hair away from her face and with a mixture of reluctance and curiosity she stared at the distant window again.

No one there. Curtains hung at the sides, revealing a dark expanse in the middle. She got to her feet and looked down at her Photon Lock09 DSLR and tripod spread across the grass. Hoping that nothing was damaged, she gently picked up the camera and examined it. Visibly, there appeared to be nothing wrong with it. She blew softly on the large zoom lens. It didn’t look scratched, so she peeked through the viewfinder. All seemed okay.

She clicked the power button to off, put the lens cover on and pushed the camera into the camera bag.

What the hell just happened? Vicky scratched her head and thought back.

Several things seemed to have occurred at once. After the lengthy decision on the framing of her subject, to capture more light, she had set the Photon to a higher aperture and slow shutter speed, so that the building didn’t turn out too dark against the setting sun to the left. The perfect golden hour shot. She pressed the shutter release while still looking through the viewfinder when suddenly, for just a fraction of a second, a blinding sun flare constricted her vision. And then she saw it – a pale face looking directly at her from that distant window. She had gasped and tripped sideways, knocking the tripod and camera to the ground.

Confused, she glanced back at the window. The mansion had been closed for a couple of hours so there could not have been any visitors there. Unless it was the staff? But it was just so odd. Nothing there. And then suddenly, a strange face.

Yes, she still felt a bit light-headed from lack of lunch and having that ale last night, which she didn’t even like.

She struck her palm to her forehead. Why didn’t she check the photo? Maybe the face would be on the image. Slightly apprehensive, she went to unclip the camera bag when Vivaldi’s Summer started playing from the inside of her jeans pocket.

Vicky retrieved her mobile.

‘Hello?’

‘Where the hell have you been?’