It Began With A Lie by Michele Pariza Wacek
Release Date: September 10, 2018Publisher: Love-Based Publishing
Series: Secrets of Redemption #1
Genre: Psychological thriller, romantic suspense, paranormal
Page Count: 282
A fresh start. That was what Becca hoped the move from New York to Redemption, Wisconsin, would be for her troubled family—a way to get her crumbling marriage back on track, and to bond with her difficult 16-year-old stepdaughter.
But instead of a new beginning, Becca is thrust into a mysterious past she barely remembers … a past that includes complications from interacting with her teenage crush, Daniel, as well as living in her aunt's old house (aka "The Witch House," according to locals).
But is the house really haunted? Or is there something far more sinister out to destroy them?
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IT
BEGAN WITH A LIE Excerpt
Copyright © 2018
Michele PW
Chrissy gave me a withering look as she furiously pounded on her
iPhone. I opened my mouth to say something—I had no idea what … something to
bridge the gap that yawned between us—but Mia's voice interrupted me.
"Daniel! Look who's here! It's Becca!"
I closed my mouth and turned to look. A police officer was
standing at the counter watching Mia fill up a to-go container with coffee.
Could that be Daniel? I searched the room, but only saw only a handful of
people finishing up their breakfast. It had to be him.
I looked back at the cop. Broad shoulders and dark blonde
hair—Daniel. Mia glanced at me and winked. I made a face back at her.
He turned. He was older of course, but yes, it was most definitely
Daniel. He wouldn't be considered traditionally handsome—not like Stefan with
his almost pretty-boy looks. Daniel's face was too rugged, with sharp
cheekbones and a crooked nose. But his lips were still full and soft, and his
eyes were still the same dark blue. I found myself suddenly conscious of my
appearance. I hadn't taken a shower in two days, and I was wearing an old,
faded New York Giants tee shirt. I had scraped my unruly mass of reddish,
blondish, brownish hair back into a messy ponytail in preparation for a full
day of cleaning and organizing. But I quickly reminded myself that I was being
silly. I was a married woman, sitting with my stepdaughter, and he was engaged.
Besides, he had made it more than clear years ago he wasn't the
slightest bit interested in me.
"Becca," he said coming over, his face friendly, but not
exactly smiling. "Welcome back to Redemption." It didn't sound much
like a welcome.
“Thanks," I said, mostly because I couldn't think of anything
better to say. Instinctively, I reached up to smooth out my hair, since as
usual, a few curly tendrils had escaped and hung in my face. "Not much has
changed."
He studied me, making me really wish I had taken an extra five minutes
to jump in the shower and dig out a clean shirt. "Oh, plenty has
changed."
"Like you being a cop?"
He shrugged slightly. "Pays the bills."
I half-smiled. "There's lots of ways to pay the bills. If I
remember right, you always seemed more interested in breaking the law than
upholding it."
"Like I said, things change." He lifted his to-go coffee
cup and took a swallow, dark blue eyes never leaving mine. "I take it
you're still painting then."
I dropped my gaze to his chest, feeling a dull ache overwhelm me—the
same pain I felt when I heard the name Becca. "As you said, things
change."
"Ah." I waited for him to ask more questions, but
instead, he changed the subject. "So, how long are you staying?"
I shrugged. "Not sure. We've actually moved here."
His eyebrows raised slightly. "To Charlie's house? You aren't
selling it?"
“Well, yes. Eventually. That’s the plan. But, at least for the
foreseeable future, we’ll be living in it.” I sounded like an idiot. With some
effort, I forced myself to stop talking. Why on earth did I share so much
detail? How was this any of his business?
He looked like he was going to say something more but was
interrupted by a loud snort. The two pant-suited women both scraped their
chairs back as they stood up, glaring disgustedly at all of us before heading
to the cash register.
"What's with them?" Chrissy asked. I had forgotten she
was there.
I shrugged, before remembering my manners and introducing Chrissy
to Daniel. I made a point of gesturing with my left hand to flash my wedding
ring.
His head tipped in a slight nod before looking back at me.
"Will you be around later today? I'd like to stop by and talk to
you."
There was something in his expression that made me uneasy, but I
purposefully kept my voice light. "What on earth for? I haven't even
unpacked yet. Am I already in trouble?"
The ends of his lips turned up in a slight smile, but no hint of
warmth touched the intense look in his eyes. "Should you be in trouble?”
I let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Why do cops always
answer a question with a question?"
"Occupational hazard. I'll see you later." He dipped his
chin in a slight nod before walking away. I noticed he didn't give me the
slightest hint as to what he wanted to talk to me about. That sense of unease
started to grow into a sense of foreboding.
About Michele PWMichele Pariza Wacek (also known as Michele PW) taught herself to read at three years old because she so badly wanted to write fiction. As an adult, she became a professional copywriter (copywriters write promotional materials for businesses, nothing to do with protecting intellectual property or putting a copyright on something) and eventually founded a copywriting and marketing company. She grew up in Madison, Wisconsin and currently lives with her husband and dogs in the mountains of Arizona. You can reach her at MicheleParizaWacek.com. She’s published two novels, “The Stolen Twin” and “Mirror Image,” both psychological thrillers/mystery/suspense books.
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