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The Bridge of Strange Music — Jane Blackmore
THREE WOMEN LOVED JOHN HARDACRE....
Prudence - Who felt the evil of Pen Farm embrace her - yet remained bound to a man who could never return her love....
Laura - Beautiful and willful - whose desire for John Hardacre made her leave the glitter of London for the isolation and lonely terror of Pen Farm....
Violet - Sensuous and provacative who offered first her body and then her soul to posess the master of Pen Farm....
In the ominous silence of the house lay a hidden horror that would soon erupt - which one of the three women would survive the emotional holocaust?
Prudence? Laura? Violet?
Laura was frightened. Hurrying, she shut the door behind her but she couldn't shut out the night. It crept through the windows filling the corners with floating shadows. It was the spirit of the old house, stirring in the darkness and the emptiness. How many wives of Hardacres had stood as she stood now, trembling…
The shadows seemed to cluster round her, taking shape. Something warm and rough and damp caressed her cheek. Terror poured through her body. She felt something on her arm -- a breath…
“Violet,” she called. The name echoed shrill. She heard a voice. A woman's voice, but not Violet's. It droned on, drawing her to it.
Laura screamed. She hadn't meant to, hadn't known that the tension within her head had risen to the breaking point. She couldn't see the girl's eyes for the light was behind her face…
“Don't come near me,” Laura shrieked backing away.
Prudence - Who felt the evil of Pen Farm embrace her - yet remained bound to a man who could never return her love....
Laura - Beautiful and willful - whose desire for John Hardacre made her leave the glitter of London for the isolation and lonely terror of Pen Farm....
Violet - Sensuous and provacative who offered first her body and then her soul to posess the master of Pen Farm....
In the ominous silence of the house lay a hidden horror that would soon erupt - which one of the three women would survive the emotional holocaust?
Prudence? Laura? Violet?
Laura was frightened. Hurrying, she shut the door behind her but she couldn't shut out the night. It crept through the windows filling the corners with floating shadows. It was the spirit of the old house, stirring in the darkness and the emptiness. How many wives of Hardacres had stood as she stood now, trembling…
The shadows seemed to cluster round her, taking shape. Something warm and rough and damp caressed her cheek. Terror poured through her body. She felt something on her arm -- a breath…
“Violet,” she called. The name echoed shrill. She heard a voice. A woman's voice, but not Violet's. It droned on, drawing her to it.
Laura screamed. She hadn't meant to, hadn't known that the tension within her head had risen to the breaking point. She couldn't see the girl's eyes for the light was behind her face…
“Don't come near me,” Laura shrieked backing away.