Dark Moon Rising

By Jacqueline Seewald

A searing paranormal romance of passionate love and intense hate.

Cassandra Lowry has a sixth sense. She dreams about a handsome man making love to her. He appears to need and want her. However, danger and evil surround him. Her dreams and visions are disturbingly real. When Cass drives south, her sensitivity warns her that something is not right. She swerves to miss a deer and her car ends up in a ditch. Chased by two country boys, she gets lost in the forest and spends a night exposed to the elements, only to be found the next day by her dream man.

Set in the modern South, this novel reaches back into a troubled family heritage. Two female ghosts, women from different centuries, haunt male members of the Hunt family. The heroine of this sensual gothic romance is young, just graduated from college, and alone in the world. Although in danger herself, Cass seeks to solve the mystery and end the curse that enshrouds the family while at the same time finding the passionate love of her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Jan 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781910397824

Jacqueline Seewald

Jacqueline Seewald has taught creative, expository and technical writing at Rutgers University as well as high school English. She also worked as both an academic librarian and an educational media specialist. Twenty of her books of fiction have been published for adults, teens and children. Her short stories, poems, essays, reviews and articles have appeared in hundreds of diverse publications and numerous anthologies.

Book preview

DARK MOON RISING

Jacqueline Seewald

A searing paranormal romance of passionate love and intense hate…

Cassandra Lowry has a sixth sense. She dreams about a handsome man making love to her. He appears to need and want her. However, danger and evil surround him. Her dreams and visions are disturbingly real. When Cass drives south, her sensitivity warns her that something is not right. She swerves to miss a deer and her car ends up in a ditch. Chased by two country boys, she gets lost in the forest and spends a night exposed to the elements, only to be found the next day by her dream man.

Set in the modern South, this novel reaches back into a troubled family heritage. Two female ghosts, women from different centuries, haunt male members of the Hunt family. The heroine of this sensual gothic romance is young, just graduated from college, and alone in the world.

Although in danger herself, Cass seeks to solve the mystery and end the curse that enshrouds the family, while at the same time finding the passionate love of her life.

DARK MOON RISING

JACQUELINE SEEWALD

WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

DARK MOON RISING

Copyright © July 2015 Jacqueline Seewald

ISBN: 978-1-910397-82-4

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

The author acknowledges the trademark status and the following trademark owners mentioned in this work of fiction:

Dr Pepper

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to the editorial team at Luminosity and most especially to Elizabeth Tasker.

Dedication

For Monte with love always.

Chapter One

The bank teller was a dead man but he didn’t know it yet. Blood trickled down his face from a gaping wound at the side of his head. Cassandra put a hand over her mouth to suppress a scream. Then, just as suddenly as the vision came, it disappeared.

Are you all right, Ms. Lowry? The teller stared at her with questioning eyes. She forced a nod of her head, swallowing back the bile that had risen to her throat.

I felt ill for a moment. Sorry if I alarmed you.

Are you certain you’re all right? He was a kind, middle-aged man, balding and paunchy, who chatted with her in a fatherly manner whenever she came into the bank to deposit her pay in the checking account. How could she possibly tell him she’d glimpsed a vision of his death? Besides, who was to say what she’d seen was true? God, she hoped it wasn’t true!

Cass still felt troubled when she described the incident to her grandmother that evening. But Grandma understood.

"It’s the sensitivity, Cassie. Every other generation or so it recurs in Lowry women. Don’t ask me to make sense of it because I can’t. Gran’s gnarled arthritic fingers gently touched her own. It’s more of a curse then a benefit as you discovered today. When your parents were killed in the car crash, I had a premonition something terrible was about to happen to them. I believe you did too. You were only six years old but you were frightened and crying for them to come back. Afterwards, I kept torturing myself with the thought that I could somehow have stopped it from happening. But I don’t suppose it was possible."

They held each other. It was painful discussing the event that dramatically changed both their lives. After the loss of his only child, Grandpa’s health had deteriorated. He’d died of a stroke a year later. The drunk driver who walked away from that head-on collision with barely a scratch never realized the misery he caused.

Cassie thought her sensitivity might also be responsible for the peculiar dreams that plagued her sleep, dreams so vivid, she woke remembering every detail.

There was always a man, the same man. He was tall, handsome, strongly muscled. When the dream began, she was in a strange bedroom asleep in a large, four-poster bed. The man leaned over and brushed her lips with a gentle kiss like the whisper of a butterfly’s wing. She felt drawn to him, as if there were some potent bond between them.

He kissed her lips more deeply, his breath warm and sweet against her mouth. She felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure as he continued to shower kisses on her eyes, cheeks, and the hollow of her throat. His hands moved restlessly along her body, caressing her yielding flesh. The erotic friction provoked hot and cold sensations simultaneously. She was aroused, needing, desiring his lovemaking.

I love you, he said, his eyes branding hers with burning intensity. I need you. I want you. Come to me.

As she reached out to touch him, he disappeared, swallowed up by a mist. Suddenly, the room frightened her; she recognized herself to be surrounded by danger, by evil. It swirled around her like a thick, black fog. She awoke trembling, uncertain what to make of the disturbing vision.

As her college graduation approached, the dream became more frequent. She willed herself not to dream, but sleep seduced the senses and then the vision intruded. There were also concrete problems that troubled her waking hours.

Cass had looked forward to her college graduation. However, that day did not bring the sense of satisfaction she originally expected, because her grandmother was gravely ill. The special awareness they shared prepared them for the inevitable, but made it no easier to accept.

My only regret is that there’s no one left for you. You’ve worked hard putting yourself through school and I’m very proud of you.

I wish you could always be with me, Cass said, tears running down her face.

The gnarled fingers touched her own. I promise in one way or another, I’ll always be watching out for you.

Those were her Grandmother’s last words. Cass thought about them as she drove south several months later. For better or worse, she’d decided to leave New York behind and start a new life. Teaching certificate in hand, she’d sent out résumés and filled out applications for different parts of the state and eventually different parts of the country. It seemed as though there were many people who wanted to be teachers but few teaching positions available. Everyone wanted applicants with experience, but how could she get experience if no one would hire her in the first place? She conceded that majoring in social studies and political science probably hadn’t been the best idea. There were few jobs in that subject area unless you could coach football or some other sport. But her minor in business did the trick. Ironically, it was her business and secretarial skills that paid her bills through college as well.

Cass received a job offer from Columbus, Georgia. If she could arrive by mid-September, she had a teaching position, subsequent to an interview. A teacher had quit unexpectedly and they needed someone with a strong keyboarding background. The superintendent of schools was especially impressed by her letter in which she stated her mother had been born and raised in Columbus and that was why she wanted to work in the community, to get in touch with her family roots. And it was true; in a real sense she felt as if she were going home.

Cass began her journey after Labor Day. Her old Ford was in decent condition. It would take her safely to Georgia, to her new life. Driving along the interstate, the countryside reeled past her like the flickering frames of a silent movie. The first day proved peacefully uneventful. She stayed overnight at a Spartan motel right off the highway and was on the road again after a fast-food breakfast and cup of coffee.

Throughout the second day, a growing sense of apprehension gripped her. She had the odd sensation something was not quite right. The closer she got to her destination, the uneasier she felt. That evening, she was forced to travel down an out-of-the-way country road because there were few motels in the area and she couldn’t find anything nearby with a vacancy sign. Maybe she should have stopped sooner but she’d been eager to get in as many hours of driving as possible.

The seedy, country inn did nothing to dispel her growing sense all was not well. She determined to ignore the prickly sensation forming at the nape of her neck and did her best to get a few hours of sleep in the small, shabby room with its overpowering odor of mildew. She was startled awake before dawn as she felt her grandmother reach out to her. It was little more than a soft whisper. Yet it felt like a warning. Get a grip, she told herself.

It was morning; time to get moving. A warm, humid, sunny Southern day greeted her. She didn’t even want to think about breakfast. Just get on the road and head back to the highway.

Several miles from the inn, Cass caught sight of a deer running across the narrow road and saw the fear in the deer’s eyes. She gripped the steering wheel harder and swerved to avoid hitting the creature. She heard the screech of her tires and the smell of burning rubber then ended up in a muddy ditch. Letting out a shaky breath, she got out of the car and checked for damage. She couldn’t stop trembling.

One of the tires looked flat. There was a spare in the trunk but she still needed a tow truck to pull the car out of the ditch. Cass grabbed her handbag and reached for her cell phone only to discover it wasn’t working. The light was flashing red. Worriedly, she looked around. No gas station. No phone booth of course. Did they even exist anymore? Nothing for miles except scrub pines and billboards. She’d have to walk back to the inn.

Cass locked up the car. It was still early, a good time for a walk. She willed herself to think in a positive way. The beige shirt she wore was of a light-textured silk and her brown slacks were cool linen. Her sneakers were comfortable as well. All in all, she was set for walking. For the first mile, she admired the lush woodlands and breathed deeply of the fresh, tart scent of pine.

A car coming from the opposite direction turned out to be an old blue pick-up truck. The mud-splattered vehicle crossed the road and pulled up beside her. Cass saw two men and was instantly assailed with uneasiness. One of them was young. He had a crooked smile that looked unnatural on his thick lips. The older of the two was large and burly. They were both dressed like farmers in patched, faded denim coveralls.

Y’all want a ride, sister? The older man smiled through discolored teeth and started to get out of the truck.

No thanks, but you could call the nearest garage and ask them to send a tow truck out here.

Shoot, we’ll do any work you need.

She caught sight of the gun rack mounted on the pick-up and shrunk back toward the pine trees. That’s all right. Just make that call for me if you would.

He drew closer; she could actually smell his sour breath. Now why don’t I just drive you to the garage myself. Fillin’ station’s just a tad further down the road. He smiled at her again, except it looked more like a leer.

She shook her head vigorously, trying hard not to let her apprehension show. Glancing from one man to the other, she noticed a close resemblance between them. Both had wide-set eyes and curly copper hair.

I’ll just be on my way, she said and started walking briskly down the road again.

That was when the younger man jumped down from the truck and turned a rifle barrel toward her. Why bother talkin’ anymore? Let’s just take this here Yankee girl with us. Bet we could have some real good fun. She’s pretty enough.

His dull, feral eyes sent a sudden chill slithering snakelike down her spine. Cass saw the older man’s ham-sized hands reach out for her. Her reaction was instinctive. She ran into the forest in a state of panic. She had to escape these two horrible men; she knew they meant to rape and kill her.

She could hear them chasing after her, yelling for her to stop. But she didn’t stop. Instead, she kept on running blindly into the depths of the forest. They were hunting her as if she were some poor doe they planned to slaughter and devour. She just kept on going until there wasn’t a breath left in her lungs and her legs felt as if iron weights were attached to them. Finally, she could do little more than creep along. Fear assaulted her throat like a pit bull. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. A wonderful sense of ease washed over her when she eventually realized they were no longer pursuing her.

Cass came to a place where a large, two-trunk tree stood in stately circumstance. With a deep sigh of relief, she crawled into the hollowed out section in the center and crouched down low. There she rested and listened. The two men were gone, truly gone. She closed her eyes and tried to cleanse her mind of the fear that controlled her. When Cass looked to see what time it was, she realized her watch was gone. It must have fallen off while running. No clocks in the forest.

While she rested, Cass noticed the day was becoming hot and unbearably humid. The smell of pine permeated the woodland. She had lived most of her life in city suburbs and felt unsure in this outdoor environment.

Soon she was regretting her lack of breakfast. She was hungry and thoroughly exhausted. But at least there was no sign of the men. She crawled out of her hiding place, a few insect bites richer, and looked around. Then it hit her—she had no idea where she was or how to get back to the road. The forest was a foreign country to her. Fear once again seized her. Hopelessly lost, she wandered around trying desperately to judge which way she’d come, but nothing seemed familiar.

Cass tried to keep a tight rein on her emotions but she could feel her heart beating like a racehorse approaching the final furlong. There were miles of nothing but forest, scrubby, stunted pine trees, cranberry bogs and cedar swamp. The sounds of birds were everywhere overhead, plentiful evidence of wildlife but no people.

She sat down on a tree stump and rummaged through her handbag. She hadn’t thought to put a candy bar inside but wished now she had. Seeing a small notepad and pen gave her an idea. She wrote out a series of messages explaining who she was and how she was lost and in need of help. Each message was placed with a rock to hold it down in various locations as she walked along. The activity reassured her, until dusk came and she stumbled across the first of the messages. That was when she realized she’d been walking in a large circle like a dog chasing its own tail.

Overcome by a sense of futility, Cass sank down on her knees. Where was her sensitivity now when she most needed it? If only she could summon it, but it didn’t work that way. She didn’t control it. Tears flooded her eyes. She was so weary; every joint in her legs ached from the unaccustomed strain.

With the setting of the blood sun, a chilling wind came up. It seemed to cut across her face like the blade of a knife. The day that had been so hot became a shivering evening. Her silk shirt felt too light and insubstantial. With growing alarm, she realized it would soon be night. She could not imagine spending an entire night alone in the wilderness. Keep walking, she told herself, but her feet would not obey. In the gathering darkness, she stumbled over vines and roots until she could continue no further.

Her hearing was now more acute; she could perceive the movements of birds, squirrels, and field mice. Every rustle made her jump. Were there larger animals, predators? She hardened her resolve, refusing to let fear win out. Above her the sky was lilac and velvet, like the sash of a party dress she’d worn as a child.

The moon became a narrow crescent, offering little in the way of illumination. Myriad bright stars glittered in hard brilliance, oblivious to her misery. She began walking again and realized her mistake only when she tripped and stumbled over what felt like a log. Her left ankle twisted with excruciating pain. Then, as if in a nightmare, she heard a hissing sound. Something pierced the calf of her leg. She got away as fast as possible, but not without a surge of pain in her ankle. After the initial burst of adrenaline, her energy drained away and she sank to the ground.

Her hands trembled as she reached into her handbag and searched around. She located a small book of matches and sharp-edged eyebrow tweezers. She used the matches to light a small fire in hastily gathered brush. Then she tried to sterilize the tip of the tweezers. With trembling fingers, she plunged the metal into the puncture wound on her calf. The pain was terrible but she forced herself to open the wound and squeeze hard until it bled. Afterwards, she lay back on the ground, her chest heaving in great wrenching sobs.

She knew the snakebite hadn’t been attended to properly, but hoped it would do. Ripping a section of her pant leg, Cass fashioned a kind of tourniquet. Thank God for high school health ed!

During the night, the fire went out. She slept fitfully for a while and had strange dreams. When she awoke at dawn, there was the vivid persistent memory of a man who cradled and caressed her in his arms, comforted her. She knew it was him, the same man she’d dreamt about before; the handsome, wonderful man offered her love and passion if only in her dreams. How she wished he were real and could be with her now! Suddenly she felt bereft.

Still groggy, Cass studied the gray light of dawn and listened to the birds sing overhead. She forced herself to stand again and walk, although her left leg could barely take any weight. The pine needles crunched beneath her feet, lending to the cool, damp morning air their special fragrance. By not stopping, she found her ankle did not stiffen. But her mouth was parched and she now craved water more than food. Again, she checked to see if her cell phone was working but there was still no signal. So frustrating!

She tried to think of positive things. Soon she would be in a new place and a new job. She envisioned all the children she would teach. She loved children. Maybe someday she would have children of her own. What would her husband be like? Would he be like the man she’d been dreaming about?

By midday, the forest became hot and humid again. Soon she was wracked by cycles of hot and cold chills. She was dizzy, confused, at times disoriented. In clearer moments, Cass realized she was running a fever. But she refused to stop, stumbling on because she equated it with giving up and dying.

At some point, Cass staggered into a clearing. At first, she felt elated believing she’d finally made it back to the main road. She sobbed in joyous relief. But looking around, she saw a tranquil lake and realized she must be far away from her starting point. Bitterly disappointed, she sat down on the hard ground, her vision unclear. She lay there, staring up at the sky, and fancied the clouds as sails on a clipper ship. She was floating off into time and space. The clouds were gobs of cotton candy shifting in size and shape. Then the clouds became vanilla ice cream. She wanted to taste them so badly. Her mouth had never been so hot and dry.

Cass heard a voice—was she hallucinating? Someone was singing, a voice sweet and pure, a young girl’s voice. She caught sight of a figure in the distance and tried to call out, but no sound issued from her throat. The girl could not hear her! She tried again but could do little better than a croak.

Cass heard an automobile, a screech of tires and brakes. She saw a blur of red. A young man got out of the car.

Didn’t think you’d come, he said to the girl.

She tried to draw their attention and wondered if this were just an illusion like a mirage in the desert. But she could see them and hear them; surely they must be real?

The boy took the girl’s hand; she removed it from his grasp. He leaned across the shiny sports car and lit a cigarette.

I was warned. I can’t see you again.

The boy tossed his cigarette disgustedly on the ground and stomped on it with a boot heel. Who’s been talking against me?

I’m not good enough for you.

The boy took the girl into his arms. You and I belong to each other. You know it just like I do. It’s in our blood. Don’t let nobody scare you off.

I’m scared for you, not me.

Let me kiss you.

The girl laughed and danced away.

Let’s go swimming then. Care to make a bet on whether or not I can make it to the other side of the lake before you?

I don’t have a bathing suit on.

Who says we need any?

Cass heard them kicking off sandals and shoes, running toward the lake, running toward her. The girl was laughing again but finally she saw Cass and let out a shriek.

Cass became aware of something cool brushing against her forehead. Trying to reach the coolness, her fingers began to tremble. She managed to look up into the startled eyes of a young girl.

You dying?

No, at least I hope not. The hoarse voice did not sound like her own.

Don’t try to move around. I can see you’re hurting.

Cass attempted to focus her eyes but a liquid haze had settled over them. Probably it resulted from the fever. Perspiration was trickling down her face into her eyes. She could barely see the girl who came to her through a gauzy mist.

What’s she doing here? Who is she?

Hush now. This gal’s hurt real bad.

Cass finally managed to see the girl—she was a teenager, petite and pretty, wearing a white peasant blouse with a flowered skirt. Even in Cass’s confused state, she observed the girl’s shimmering silver gray eyes and long mane of white-blond hair.

The boy stayed away and so she couldn’t see him very well, but she sensed that he was older than the girl, although probably not by much.

Ask her who she is and what she’s doin’ here, he said. By his tone of voice, she could tell that he was very angry.

Please, some water, Cass choked out. I need a doctor.

You better go, the girl said, turning to the young man. It wouldn’t do having folks know we was together.

The girl’s eyes seemed to dissolve mystically in elusive smoke as she watched her boyfriend leave. Cass could hear the engine of the sports car roar and then smelled burned rubber.

The girl turned back to Cass. I’ll get you some help, she said.

You’ll have to bring someone back here. I can’t walk.

The gray eyes were thoughtful. Not many folks living in these parts. Farmland and forest mostly. No doctor, no hospital, not for a long ways. But don’t worry ’cause I can bring someone who’ll know just what to do for you.

Cass wondered just how much the girl could be relied upon. There was something odd about her, something out of the norm.

A town, is there one nearby?

The teenager shrugged. Shark Lake Junction, but you wouldn’t call it much of a town. There’s only the general store, schoolhouse, church, cemetery and a bar. The girl tossed her long hair. You’re resting beside Shark Lake right now. Just you stay here. I’ll bring back the fella I was talking about. John’s at the general store. He’s buying supplies. Colonel Hunt, he won’t much care when John gets back to the farm.

And you’re sure this man can help me?

The girl laughed as if the mere suggestion of anything else were impossible. If there’s anything worth knowing, John knows it.

The childlike confidence reassured her. Before you leave, can you get some water for me?

Sure enough, the girl responded with a sweet smile. She walked to the lake, the sun turning the fair hair into a glowing halo, and returned with a dripping bandanna. Sorry, it ain’t fit drinkin’ water. Lake’s only clean enough to swim in and then just barely. She pressed the red-checked cloth against Cass’s forehead.

The water felt cool and comforting. Cass closed her eyes again for a moment.

Remember me.

Cass’s eyes flickered open. The girl’s expression was solemn; her features took on a faraway look.

Don’t forget who’s saving you. No matter what folks tell you about me, don’t believe them. Least wise, it ain’t all true. The girl spoke oddly, almost in