Purgatory: The Nether Series, #1

By Beth Lauzier

A hidden key. A secret passage. A dead girl who wants to play games.

 

Ripley is determined to discover just what the key opens. Even if it means breaking and entering. Scott is the new kid in town and when he finds Ripley sneaking around his home, he is drawn into the search. Together they find a world where the past still lives.

 

Scott and Ripley are going to have to get a little creative if they ever want to get home. But first, they have to avoid the shadow monsters and the murderous ghost girl who just wants her new friends to stay forever.

 

Purgatory is the first of three books in the Nether series by Beth Lauzier. Mysterious, thrilling, and with just a touch of murderous ghosts. Strap in and keep the lights on. The door just got unlocked.

 

Pick up a copy today and see what everyone is saying.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seriously Awesome Books
• Release date: Sep 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734784237

Beth Lauzier

Beth Lauzier is an author of YA fantasy, He Loves Me is the first in the I Wish series of magic-realism. When not writing or reading, you might find her trying to convince the local bird population to rise up and do her bidding. A resident of Longview Texas, Beth Lauzier lives with her family and generally avoids the outside world because books are better and it's too people-y out there.

Book preview

Prologue

1934

The squeak of the wheelchair and the screams of other patients were one and the same. It was hard to think of them as different now. One led to the other.

I pulled at the leather straps that kept both of my arms in place. Panic burned a line through me like a hot knife. But the soft voice of Nurse Grace pushed that fear away. They were going to make me better.

She backed into the room then swung the wheelchair around to face the machine. Leaning forward, her hair tickled my cheek. It's time for your treatment now. It will make you all better.

A man wearing all white unstrapped me from the chair and told me to lay on the table. I didn't want the table. But I wanted to be better. So I did.

They strapped me down. Nurse Grace pushed some hair from my forehead. Soon, you'll be all better. But that was a lie. Because I liked being bad. If I was bad, I got what I wanted.

Right now, I wanted to go home. So I had to pretend to be good. I could pretend for a little bit.

The doctor in his long white coat walked in and turned some knobs on the machine as Nurse Grace played with my hair and told me soft, comforting things.

Blue lights popped, and static buzzed through the air.

All right, Miss Clara, time for your treatment.

Purgatory

Any condition or place of temporary punishment, suffering, expiation, or the like.

Chapter 1

Finders keepers.

MOTHER HOLLERED FOR me again, her words cutting through the quiet bookstore like a chain saw. I kept up my search for hidden treasure in spite of her tone. It hadn’t reached danger zone high just yet. I might have another five minutes until she blew a gasket.

Going to the bookstore on Sundays has always been a treat if I got all As in school the week before. We’d yet to miss a trip since the deal was made. I was going to squeeze every ounce of time out of it as I could.

Scanning through the last chance books, I read the titles and looked at the overall condition of the book. If it was falling apart and unsaveable, it was skipped right over, and I went on to the next. Time was short, and I had to use it wisely since Mother had already called twice more, and her voice had gotten a little higher each time. She’d come looking soon, and that was never a good thing.

But there were rules when it came to the bookstore, and I followed these rules to the letter. I couldn’t leave until I had at least three books to get me through the week. Normally, finding something good to read wasn’t a problem, but I’d fallen into a reading slump, unable to find anything that appealed to me.

Ripley. And there it was. The voice Mother used when she was super mad and about to lose it. I’m not going to call you again, let’s go. Time was officially up, and I only had two books.  They were so small I doubted they would get me through a day, let alone a week. Without looking, I grabbed a random book from the pile and sprinted to the front counter.

The store owner, Miss Ruth, was there with her ever-present smile when I rushed up with my small horde of paperbacks. With a face full of those laugh lines my mother was so deathly afraid of, Miss Ruth always carried this air of happiness about her, but if I owned a bookstore, I’d be happy all the time too.

Nice to see you again, dear. She held out a strawberry candy. I took it with glee, most people call them old people candy, but I didn’t care. They were really good, and I loved the gooey middles.

Mother didn’t say anything about all the sugar I just inhaled. She just handed over her bank card without a word. Even on Sunday, she was dressed in a dark suit and red power-heels ready to make a deal because you’re only as good as your last sale. Her phone rang, and she answered it in her annoyed mother voice before heading outside, leaving me to do my own thing.

Setting the books on the counter, I couldn’t help roll my eyes like the pre-teen I was. How’s the day treating ya? Rocking on my feet, I crunched on the candy and watched her ring up the books.

Oh, I’m doing well, dear. We got a new Steven King book in. Did you see it? Miss Ruth pointed to the shelf on the far wall under a sign that boasted new books. Racing over, I found it partially hidden behind a zombie book and snatched it up.

Adding it to my small heap of books, Miss Ruth beamed at me. The moment it came in, I knew you’d want it. Another reason to love her; she never age-gated my reading choices, not that my mother would care. After everything was placed in my reusable tote bag and I swiped Mother’s card, she handed me the receipt to sign.

Signing Mother’s name would technically be called forgery, but Miss Ruth didn’t mind a small bit of falsification in the name of reading, and my mother just didn’t care. As long as it stayed below a hundred dollars, I still remember the blow-up she had when the bill for that trip came in.

Grimacing at the thought, I handed the paper and pen back to her. You can never go wrong with a little bit of King. Tapping on the glass caught my attention, and we both turned to my mother, making an annoyed hand motion at me as she kept talking on the phone. Not wanting to push it anymore today, I waved goodbye to Miss Ruth and skipped out of the store with my bag of books.

Once in the car, I handed the card over to Mother. She just tossed it in the cupholder where it rattled around. Mother interrupted the person on the other end of the call and talked over them like her opinion was more important. Buckling the seatbelt, I rested a hand on the bag and put a lid over the bubbling excitement that filled my gut. Pulling out a book, I ran a thumb over the rough well-worn pages and briefly wondered how many houses these books had been to before coming to mine.

No, Bill, you aren’t listening. I said, use a burnt red paint and... Popping in some earbuds, I listened to my favorite fantasy book again as Mother’s tone got higher. Half-listening to the audiobook, I pulled out one of the random books that made up my three, well four now, I guess.

Going through them one at a time, I looked over each one in more detail now. One I knew how to fix and made some mental notes on how to do so. Maybe I’d have some free time tonight and could sneak into the school and get a few hours of work fixing them. Maybe I could convince my mother to get me a book press for Christmas this year if I begged enough.

Until then, if I got to the school super early, I could get everything back and cleaned up before anyone knew what happened. This book just needed a little glue on the side. It wasn’t a big rip and shouldn’t need to be in the press too long.

As she drove through the business part of town with big box stores and a mall that boasted two floors, I removed an earbud and waited for her to hang up. But as we got closer to the Walgreens, she only seemed to talk faster. Swallowing down the bad taste of her tone-to-come, I paused my book and spoke up. Don’t forget to stop for your pills. Flipping on the blinker, Mother didn’t seem to hear me as she talked over Bill and cursed the other drivers around her. Don’t forget to stop for...

I heard you the first time, now please stop talking. Mommy is on a very important business call. The sweetness in her tone would fool most people into thinking she was a caring mother, but I knew different. Not even caring if she saw the eyeroll, I went back to my audiobook and planned to ignore her the rest of the way home.

Unsurprisingly, we went to a drive-through and picked up some very dry chicken for dinner. Not that she was going to eat any of it, she was on a liquid diet again. It was really for me, but I wasn’t going to eat it either.

The next stop was Walgreens, but I decided to stay in the car and let her go alone. I didn’t know what the