Black umbrellas followed the three coffins up the slippery slope. The pallbearers stumbled under their burden, the snaking line of mourners squelching after them, the footing uncertain. The torrential downpour was unrelenting, unforgiving even, the thunder drowning out the hymn.
In the clearing, the freshly dug graves slowly filled with water.
The ground, trampled into a quagmire, sucked at her feet. Her unbent head was covered by a black veil, but her eyes were dry. Standing alone, slightly apart from the others, she protected her broken wrist from the damp against her chest. Severe in black—black boots, black jeans, black silk shirt—the only color about her was the auburn of her hair.
From the surrounding forest, misty fingers reached for the woman. She didn’t know she was being singled out.
Dust you are and to dust, you shall return.
May God grant you eternal rest.
A sudden gust of wind pushed the veil into her lip gloss, rustling soggy, dead leaves into the graves, and piled them against her ankles.
When the caskets started their descent into the black maws, lightning struck the tallest tree in the copse, thunder following instantly. A black smudge hovered over the rain-spattered lid of the coffin in the middle, but no one saw.
Wind that tore at umbrellas and raincoats didn’t disperse the smudge, and no one noticed when it swathed the woman, not even the woman herself.
One more must die.
Then I, too, can rest in peace.
Revenge was sweet, Tragic Lady.
Ironic it was to be interred between the two who had wronged you. Eternal slumber should now be easy.
But it wasn’t.
Dead. Gone. But not forgotten.
Maggie Tideswell, internationally acclaimed bestselling South African author, has a passion for romance. All over the world people are falling in love, making it love, not money, that makes the world go round.
Ghosts just can't seem to leave her alone and she combines things that can't be explained, sweaty bodies and rumpled beds in a way that will make your toes curl and your hair stand on end.
Maggie just can't do without perfume, coffee and the internet. She is nearly as passionate about food as she is about creating alpha heroes every woman will fall in love with, just as she does, every time.
The strangest thing is that cats have never played any kind of role in her stories, as she is owned by three of them.
That might change soon.