Echos of Her

By Marcus Flint

In the picturesque coastal town of Havenbrook, Emma Sullivan's world is shattered by the tragic death of her beloved sister, Lily. Consumed by overwhelming grief, Emma begins to experience unsettling supernatural phenomena that suggest Lily's spirit lingers.

Driven by a need to understand these chilling occurrences, Emma joins forces with Ethan, a mysterious local artist who shares an inexplicable bond with the unseen realm. Together, they delve into Havenbrook's shadowy folklore, uncovering a secret world where the boundary between the living and the dead blurs.

As Emma and Ethan's investigation deepens, they uncover dark revelations about the town's past, revealing a malevolent force that threatens to destroy Havenbrook. Haunted by guilt and determined to find answers, Emma must race against time to decode ancient messages and confront the malevolent spirits before they consume her and her town.

Facing a web of danger at every turn, Emma is forced to make a heart-wrenching decision that will seal her own fate and that of Havenbrook. Will she find the courage to confront the dark forces and save her town, or will the echoes of her sister's death doom them all?

"Echoes of Her" weaves a chilling tale of paranormal romance and suspense, exploring the depths of grief, the power of sisterly bonds, and the bravery required to face the unknown. This gripping novel will leave readers on the edge of their seats, captivated by the twists and turns of Emma's extraordinary journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marcus Flint
• Release date: Jul 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224428267

Book preview

Prologue

T

he salty sea air filled Emma's lungs as she stood at the cliff's edge, overlooking the crashing waves below. Her heart ached, her mind reeling with the knowledge that her sister, Lily, was gone forever. The emptiness inside her threatened to consume every inch of her being, pulling her towards a darkness she hadn't known existed.

The accident that had taken Lily's life had left Emma shattered, her world turned upside down. As the days turned into weeks, grief held her hostage, unbearable and suffocating. But amidst the darkness, something strange began to emerge.

Emma couldn't explain the sensations that washed over her like an electric current, the whisper of a presence that lingered wherever she went. It was as if Lily's spirit was still with her, trying to reach out and connect. At first, Emma dismissed it as her imagination, a desperate longing for her sister.

But as the strange phenomena persisted, Emma couldn't longer ignore the signs. Determined to unravel the truth, she was drawn to Ethan, an enigmatic artist who seemed to hold the key to unlocking Lily's death's mysteries.

Together, Emma and Ethan embarked on a journey that would test the boundaries of their understanding. In the quaint coastal town of Havenbrook, they delved deep into its hidden folklore, peeling back layers of secrets and long-forgotten myths. With each step, they unearthed a world where the line between the living and the dead was blurred, a realm of spirits and dark forces threatening their existence.

Along the way, Emma was forced to confront her guilt and regrets. She blamed herself for Lily's accident, tormented by the thought that she could have prevented it. Emma's journey became more than just unraveling the truth behind Lily's death; it became a reckoning with her demons.

As the truth unraveled, shocking twists and suspenseful encounters kept Emma and Ethan on edge. They faced dangerous adversaries and encountered unexplained incidents, testing their resilience and resolve. They found themselves entangled in a web of cryptic messages and treacherous situations, racing against time to prevent the evil force from taking over Havenbrook.

In the final moments before the climax, Emma stood at a crossroads, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision before her. The fate of Havenbrook hung in the balance, and Emma knew that her choice would shape not only her destiny but the lives of everyone in the town.

Emma took a deep breath, her mind swirling with uncertainty and her heart torn between love and duty. She faced the devastating decision head-on, knowing it would be a defining moment that would echo through the ages. As she stepped forward, the future of Havenbrook teetered on the edge, leaving readers gripping the pages with anticipation for what would come next.

Echoes of Her is a story of love, loss, and the unbreakable bond between sisters. It delves into the depths of grief, exploring the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable tragedy. With its evocative storytelling and unforgettable characters, this emotionally charged paranormal romance captivates readers, leaving them yearning for more.

Chapter One

E

mma stood frozen at the entrance of the funeral home, a sentinel at the threshold of despair. The mourners flowed past her in a sad stream, their faces etched with shared sorrow. She felt oddly removed from them, wrapped in her hell. Her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, were pools of unshed tears that threatened to break free at the slightest provocation.

She clutched a photograph of Lily in her hands, its edges worn from the emotional grip of reminiscence. The image—Lily laughing in a moment forever stilled by time—was a stark contrast to the stillness that now claimed her sister. Emma’s fingers trembled uncontrollably, betraying the semblance of composure she tried to maintain.

Stay strong, she whispered to herself—a mantra meant to shore up the crumbling walls of her resolve. The photo quivered as if in response, and a tear finally escaped, tracing a hot path down Emma's cheek. It was as though the glossy paper bore the weight of her regrets, each gnawing at her insides: the ignored calls, the unspoken apologies, the missed opportunities to say I love you again.

A knot tightened in her stomach, a tangible manifestation of her guilt. She should have been there for Lily and seen the signs that something was amiss. But she had been too caught up in her own life, too stubborn to see through the façade her sister had so skillfully maintained. Now, all Emma could do was stand here, at the precipice of finality, holding onto a memory that served as both a comfort and a curse.

Forgive me, Lily, she breathed into the quiet, letting her words mingle with the soft murmurs of the gathering crowd. Her gaze drifted over the sea of black attire, feeling the invisible weight of their collective mourning press against her. Yet, within her chest, a fire of determination smoldered, fueled by the enigmatic bond that death had failed to sever—a bond that whispered secrets yet to be uncovered and truths that demanded to be known.

As Emma slowly stepped forward, crossing the divide between the living and the remembrance of the dead, she tucked the photo close to her heart. It was a talisman, a promise that she would not let Lily's story end here—not while questions remained unanswered, not while the shadows of Havenbrook whispered of more profound mysteries. Emma Sullivan would find the truth for Lily, herself, and the very fabric of a town entwined with the supernatural.

A gentle touch on her shoulder startled Emma from her reverie. Before she could turn, familiar arms enveloped her in a tender embrace. Sarah's presence was a balm to the ache that spread through Emma's bones, an anchor in the tumultuous sea of her sorrow.

Emma, Sarah's voice was a whisper, a thread weaving through the fabric of grief that enshrouded them both. She felt Sarah's breath against her ear, warm and life-affirming amidst the chill of loss. I'm here, love. I'm here.

Emma leaned into the comfort offered, allowing herself a momentary respite in her best friend's arms. In Sarah’s embrace, she found the strength to move forward to step across the threshold into the hushed sanctum where Lily’s memory held court.

The funeral home opened up to her like the pages of a story filled with final goodbyes. Soft music floated through the air, a gentle melody that seemed afraid to disturb the delicate balance between remembrance and despair. The scent of lilies, ironically chosen, clung heavily to the air, vying for space with the subtle notes of rose and chrysanthemum. Each floral tribute lay artfully arranged, their vibrant colors muted under the solemn lighting, casting shadows at the room's edges.

Each whisper in this sacred space felt amplified, and every tear shone brighter as if the air within the funeral home bore witness to the collective heartache. It was an atmosphere rife with unspoken words and stifled emotions, where hope came to kneel before the altar of the inevitable. Emma's breath hitched as she navigated through clusters of mourners, their sad faces blurring into a monochrome palette of grief.

She felt Sarah close behind her, a silent vow of solidarity that they would face them together no matter what secrets Havenbrook concealed within its whispered folklore. Emma took a steadying breath, the scent of flowers mingling with the resolve that settled over her like a mantle; it was time to begin the farewell and kindle the flame of inquiry that Lily's passing had ignited.

Guided by an unspoken understanding, Emma allowed Sarah to steer her towards a secluded alcove from the main gathering. The walls here were adorned with faded photographs of loved ones long passed, their watchful eyes offering a silent testament to the cycle of life and death. As they settled into this quiet corner, the hum of the funeral parlor receded like a tide pulling back from the shore, leaving them in a pocket of relative privacy.

Sarah, Emma began, her voice barely above a whisper yet laden with the weight of her sorrow. She unfolded the crinkled photo of Lily she had been clutching, smoothing it gently against her palm as if to preserve the memory of her sister's smile.

I can't stop thinking about the last time I saw her. If only I had known...

Tears brimmed in Emma's eyes, spilling over and tracing a glistening path down her cheeks. The image of Lily, vibrant and full of life, seemed to mock her from the glossy paper, a stark contrast to the cold finality that lay just rooms away.

I should have been there for her, Sarah. It's eating me up inside. She confided, her hands trembling as she tried to maintain her composure. The guilt that gnawed at her was relentless, sharpening her grief into something unbearable.

Every time I close my eyes, I see her reaching out for me, calling my name, Emma continued, her voice breaking under the strain of her confession. And I wasn't there. I didn't hear her.

In the shelter of their secluded sanctuary, the world outside ceased to exist. For Emma, only piercing regret accompanied each heartbeat, a rhythm that seemed to chant Lily's name in a sad lullaby. With Sarah beside her, a witness to the rawness of her pain, Emma dared to let the façade crumble, revealing the depth of her anguish to the one person who understood the bond she shared with Lily beyond mere words.

The silence between them was not empty but filled with the profound acknowledgment of loss—a loss that would forever haunt the edges of Emma's reality, urging her to seek answers where questions dared not tread.

Sarah's fingers curled around Emma's, a lifeline anchoring her as she navigated the tumultuous seas of sorrow. The warmth of Sarah's touch seemed to seep into Emma's bones, a balm against the chill of despair.

Emma, Sarah said softly, her voice a steady beacon in the shadowed room, Lily loved you more than anything. She wouldn't want you to torment yourself like this.

Emma looked into Sarah's eyes, finding solace in their familiar ember glow, which had offered comfort and mischief in equal measure throughout their childhood.

You did everything you could, Sarah continued, her thumb brushing over Emma's knuckles in soothing circles. Sometimes, life just happens, and no amount of wishing can change its course.

A wistful sigh escaped Emma. I just can't shake the feeling that something else is at play, something we don't understand. The words were a whisper, almost lost in their quiet corner.

Sarah's expression shifted, a knowing look hinting at secrets shared under moonlit skies and amidst the hushed reverence of ancient trees. You know, Havenbrook has always been a place of mysteries. Her voice dropped to a murmur as if the walls themselves might be listening.

Remember how we used to scare each other with stories about the Widow's Walk? Sarah's lips quirked up in a small, sad smile. They say her spirit still roams the cliffs, searching for her lost love, forever bound to the town...

Emma felt a shiver run down her spine, not from the cold but from the resonance of the tale. The Widow's Walk, an outcrop overlooking Havenbrook's rocky shoreline, had been the setting of many local legends whispered among children and adults alike.

Maybe Lily... Emma began, the thought trailing off, too wild to take form even in this place of mourning.

Perhaps, Sarah conceded, her arms tightening around Emma in reassurance. But whatever the truth is, we'll face it together, just like we always have.

At that moment, surrounded by whispered condolences and the muted tolling of a distant bell, Emma found a flicker of resolve among the members of her grief. With Sarah by her side, she would brave the enigmas of Havenbrook, seeking closure for herself and the sister who had left the world far too soon.

The mention of the Widow's Walk had sown a seed of curiosity in Emma's mind that, despite her grief, began to sprout. She turned toward Sarah, the shadows of the funeral home casting spectral patterns on their faces.

Sarah, Emma whispered, blending with the sad notes of the piano in the background. You've lived here longer than I have since I went away to college. Have there been other stories? Other occurrences?"

Sarah's eyes searched Emma's for a moment as if gauging the weight of knowledge against the burden of sorrow. Then, with a nod, she led Emma by the elbow to a secluded set of chairs, partly hidden behind a tall floral arrangement.

Emma, Havenbrook is older than any of us, and its bones are filled with tales that chill the soul, Sarah said, calm but clear. There's the story of Old Man Craywick, who swore he saw lights dancing over the marshlands on the night of a new moon. Said they were will-o'-the-wisps, leading him to some treasure or another.

Did he ever find it? Emma asked, her brows knitting together, intrigued despite herself.

Nobody knows, Sarah replied. He wandered into the marsh and never came back. Some say he found his fortune and left town; others say the marsh swallowed him whole.

Emma felt a coldness seep into her veins, a mixture of fear and fascination. She leaned in closer, urging Sarah to continue.

And then there's the tale of the Melancholy Maiden, Sarah whispered, glancing around as if the air might overhear them. Every full moon, at the stroke of midnight, a figure can be seen on the bridge by Miller's Pond. A young woman in a white dress sobbing into her hands. When you approach her, she looks up, and her eyes... Sarah paused, swallowing hard, ...her eyes are hollow, like endless pits.

Has anyone ever talked to her? Emma's hands were clasped tightly in her lap now, her knuckles white.

"Those who tried claimed a deep sadness overcame them;