Home  | Login | Bookshelf | Help | Reader
Search
 
Advanced Search

Fiction
Alternate History
Children's Fiction
Classic Literature
Dark Fantasy
Erotic Science Fiction
Erotica
Fantasy
Gay Fiction
Gay-Lesbian Erotica
Historical Fiction
Horror
Humor
Mainstream
Mystery/Crime
Paranormal Erotica
Romance
Science Fiction
Suspense/Thriller
Young Adult

Nonfiction
Business
Children's Nonfiction
Education
Family/Relationships
General Nonfiction
Health/Fitness
History
People
Personal Finance
Politics/Government
Reference
Self Improvement
Spiritual/Religion
Sports/Entertainment
Technology/Science
Travel
True Crime

Browse
Authors
Award-Winners
Bestsellers
eMagazines
Free eBooks
New eBooks
Publishers

Information
General FAQ
Privacy
Contact



 
Dear eBookwise Customer:

We are no longer selling eBooks through this site. You can continue to access and enjoy the eBooks in your eBookwise library. You can obtain new content for your eBookwise-1150 by purchasing MultiFormat eBooks at Fictionwise.com.

Please see the FAQ for more information.

Thank you!

The eBookwise Team



Click on image to enlarge.

Speed of Dark
by Barbara Quinn

Category: Romance/Fantasy
Description: There are some people you never forget. In the summer of 1964, Luke D'Angelo falls for one of them -- a mysterious girl named Celeste. Like Luke, Celeste is an outsider struggling to find her identity, but unlike Luke, Celeste has special powers that have the potential to destroy everything Luke and his friends believe in. Luke and his mentally challenged sister become fast friends with this curious girl. Set in upstate New York, in a town that is home to a shrimp cocktail plant that belches a foul-smelling tomato and fish fog, this coming of age tale about a girl with a dream and the teens who want to help her fulfill it, is a balance between the comic and the profound. The story resonates with the message that inside each of us is a light that burns so bright no dark can extinguish it. But at what cost? Excerpt: Out of nowhere in that dense haze, someone laughed near me, a laugh that tinkled melodically. I looked left then right, but the fog hung too thickly to make out who rode there. All I could tell was that someone female inhabited the cloud. My heart raced and my imagination flew. I increased my pedaling and thought I could see a slim shape ahead, arms extended to the sides, riding without hands. A daredevil girl. No one I knew. She laughed again and I realized she was laughing for the pure joy of the ride; she had no idea I was watching her. I resolved to get her attention. Perhaps I could sneak up on her, shout above the noise of the truck, give her a scare. I saw sparks near her front wheel and thought the DDT truck might be on fire. I slowed a bit. "Watch out," I yelled, but she didn't acknowledge me. Before I could yell again, the sparks moved upward and gathered over her head. I held tight to my handlebars to keep my balance, watching as the sparks grew into a shiny ball with a dark core. Bright rings circled the outside of the globe. I pedaled hard again and watched as the ball settled a few inches above the fender of the girl's bike. She held her arms wide. As I drew nearer I thought I felt something tugging my bike. I wasn't sure what drew me forward, but it was as though my Schwinn had been caught by a magnet. Now I rode alongside her, holding tight, trying to gain control of my front wheel. The ball was wider than the back of the DDT truck, a silvery sparkling object with a dark center that frightened me. Overhead, the sky was dark now, and I wondered if the moon had somehow fallen from the heavens. In spite of my fear, I reached one hand toward the pulsing mass.
eBook Publisher: Eternal Press/Damnation Books LLC/Eternal Press, 2011 2011
eBookwise Release Date: April 2012

eBookeBook

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [351 KB]
Words: 75733
Reading time: 216-302 min.


Chapter One

* * * *

I was bent over the sink, opening the buttons on Pamela Wilcox's blouse with my teeth, stroking her thigh, when my mother's voice intruded.

"Luke, don't stack the dishes in the sink like that or everything is going to fall. Pay attention to what you're doing." Mom reached over and shut off the water. "Go get the rest of the silverware from the table."

I sheepishly did as my mother asked, thoughts of Pamela draining away with the soapy dishwater. I heard the familiar putt-putt of the town's DDT truck, and quickly placed the remaining flatware on the counter. Without catching my mother's eye, I wheeled and headed across the room.

"Back soon."

The screen door banged shut behind me and I raced past my mother's new 1964 Grand Prix. As I mounted my bike, my mother's voice rang in my ears, "Don't stay in that cloud too long, Luke D'Angelo. Who knows what it might do to you."

Most neighborhood parents said the same thing to their children, many tacking on, "Don't forget to come home when the streetlights come on." We welcomed the arrival of the truck, riding to it willingly, drawing in the sweet scent, trusting that no harm could ever come to us.

The sound of windows slamming shut followed me that evening as I fell in behind the white truck, pedaling blind, deep in the spray of poison where you couldn't keep your eyes open for long. I lingered in the gas as long as I could, Lord of the DDT Flies, dropping back and coming up for clean air now and then. Though I had never done more than sit near her in eighth grade English, Pamela Wilcox and I hotly groped one another in the fog.

The voices and shouts of the other kids faded in the distance as they fell back, letting the truck continue on its route, while they awaited the next arrival of the evening: the Bungalow Bar ice cream man. I pressed on. After a bit, I slowed to get my bearings; being recently transplanted to Faith Junction, nothing was familiar in this part of town.

Out of nowhere in that dense haze someone laughed near me, a laugh that tinkled melodically. I looked left, and then right, but the fog hung too thickly to make out who rode there. I could only tell that someone female inhabited the cloud. My heart raced and my imagination flew. I increased my pedaling and thought I saw a slim shape ahead, arms extended to the sides, riding without hands, a daredevil girl. No one I knew.

She laughed again and I realized she laughed for the pure joy of the ride. She had no idea I watched her. I resolved to get her attention. Perhaps I could sneak up on her, shout above the noise of the truck, and give her a scare.

I saw sparks near her front wheel and thought the DDT truck might be on fire. I slowed a bit.

"Watch out!" I yelled, but she didn't acknowledge me.

Before I yelled again, the sparks moved upward and gathered over her head. I held tight to my handlebars to keep my balance, watching as the sparks grew into a shiny ball with a dark core. Bright rings circled the outside of the globe.

I pedaled hard again and watched as the ball settled a few inches above the front fender of the girl's bike. She held her arms wide.

As I drew nearer, I thought I felt something tugging my bike. I wasn't sure what drew me forward, but it was as though a magnet caught my Schwinn. Now I rode alongside her, holding tight, trying to gain control of my front wheel. The ball was wider than the back of the DDT truck, a silvery sparkling object with a dark center that frightened me.

Overhead the sky grew dark, and I wondered if the moon had somehow fallen from the heavens.

In spite of my fear, I reached one hand out toward the pulsing mass. As my fingers passed through the object, which felt neither hot nor cold, the dark at the core suddenly glowed blue, then dispersed, and faded into the night. The remaining glow pulsed and formed into a sparkling tornado that moved back and forth in front of us and threw off a mesmerizing swirl of shards of black light.

I tried to focus on the shape, but the more I stared the less I saw. The image faded. I felt cool air. I heard her laugh again, just before my wheel hit a huge hole.

I launched over my handlebars into the air. My bike clattered to the ground, and I landed hard on the asphalt, tumbling to the curb. The DDT truck moved away, taking the girl, and the light show, with it in its wake.

I watched her recede as I rubbed a skinned knee. The poisonous fog dissipated slightly, but the aromatic remains of the gas stayed. To my surprise, the girl fell back from the truck, turned her bike in my direction, and rode toward me. My pulse beat hard at the sight of her slender shape, and I felt a stirring inside as she pulled up next to me and planted her pink sneakers on the pavement.

"You all right?" she asked.

I blinked twice. This was no ordinary girl. She possessed the most beautiful skin I had ever seen, even more beautiful than Pamela Wilcox's. She wore white short-shorts that exposed tan and taut legs, and above the shorts, a red and white checkered top tied at her waist, Ann Margret style, exposing a flat belly. Blonde and trim, she was as near perfection as I could ever imagine. She had to be about my age, yet our paths had not crossed. How could that be?


eBook Icon Explanations:
eBook Discounted eBook; added within the last 7 days.
eBook eBook was added within the last 30 days.
eBook eBook is in our best seller list.
eBook eBook is in our highest rated list.
 
Home | Login |  Bookshelf |  Privacy |  Terms of Use |  Help
All pages © Fictionwise, Inc. 2004- . All Rights Reserved.