Selected Tales of Suspense containing 5 short stories and a novella
“Joan Hall Hovey knows suspense. She keeps it simmering in every scene she writes and knows just the right moments to turn up the heat. She also knows character creating richly layered people to populate her stories, sometimes with no more than a single sentence stocked with perfectly chosen description words or phrases... terrific suspense ."James Hankins, author of Brothers and Bones
“Taut plotting, great characters, and chilling suspense. Abook you can’t put down, exhibits a master’s touch. Alfred Hitchcock would be smiling. - Book Pleasures Review, Steve Moore
Hearing the closing of the front door, her thoughts scattered and she turned around. The faint fall of footsteps was headed in her direction. A smile broke from Melanie. Francie. “Francie, I’m in the bedroom,” she called out. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. I know I said I’d call you when I was being released from the hospital, but I wanted … she stopped. The footsteps halted in her bedroom doorway, came no farther. Frowning, she thought: No, not Francie standing there. Not her father, either. She would know if it was him. He would speak. A shot of adrenaline shot through her. Someone was there. Someone had followed her into the house. How could she have been so stupid as to forget to lock the back door behind her? What was the matter with her? And then she saw movement in that milky whiteness at the corner of her eye. Felt a shifting of air in front of her. Don’t show fear, came the warning voice inside her mind. Don’t show fear. Stay calm.
“Who is it?”
No answer. The fine hairs prickled on the back of her neck and it was hard to breathe, let alone speak. “Can I help you? Have you come to the wrong house?” She heard the tremor in her voice. Receiving no answer, alarm quickly turned to panic, a reaction that both angered and frightened her.
“Who are you? Instantly, the bit of whiteness at the corner of her eye went dark as a hand touched her cheek and it was as if spider webs were draped over her face and she was suddenly screaming screaming, hands flailing like a mad woman.
I grew up in Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada's oldest incorporated city, situated on the Bay of Fundy. I married young and had four incredible children, three boys and a girl. My eldest son passed away in 2018, of ALS, which was the moment I knew I was in control of nothing. Nothing at all. And how it feels to have your heart shredded, slowly. But still, we must be grateful for what we have.
When the children were still small we moved to Gondola Point, where we lived in a modest home my husband built, overlooking the Kennebecasis River. Lots of lovely tall pine trees and bird song. It was country then, but no more. We lived there happily with various beloved pets over the years. People often remarked that the view must be inspiring, and it was, but the truth is when I was at my computer, my back was to the river, my head already filled with characters and scenes as I lived in a world of the imagination.
My husband is gone now, my children grown with children of their own and I moved back to the city to escape the loneliness. I live in a pleasant apartment in a historical part of the city with my sweet calico cat, Bella. From my window, I can see a beautiful old church with the steeple jutting into the sky, and a clock that competes with the moon. It is Sunday morning and the church bells are ringing as I type this.
I hope you enjoy my books!
4 comments:
Thank you for hosting!
I would love to read your book.
I would ask the author what inspired her to write this story, what story, what elements, what characters?
Sounds like a good book.
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