Dorothy Lyle in Avarice by Ella Carmichael

At the foot of the stairs he turned her around so she was facing into the hall, and seemed to be watching the other doors expectantly. She expected him to usher her up to the first floor without delay, but instead he hesitated. Willing her racing heart to slow down, she walked as calmly as she was able to the glass staircase. ‘To the stairs,’ he muttered in a low, menacing tone. This time, the man grasped her shoulder with his left hand, while simultaneously using his right to press the gun firmly against the back of her head. The overhead lights had also been dimmed, although three of the lamps had been left on, and she could clearly see the large space was deserted. The unwelcome addition to her evening pushed her ahead of him until she obediently exited the drawing room and entered the hallway. He was certainly Irish if his accent was any indication of his origins. In the corner of her mind not numb with terror, she was aware the unwanted guest had a stocky and powerful build and carried a weapon. Even if she had been able to see him more clearly, it would have made very little difference because the balaclava he was wearing successfully masked his face. Ignoring her squeak of protest, he unceremoniously pulled her to her feet. With that, he removed the hand from her mouth and used it to take a grip of her hair.

Her eyes wide with shock and terror, she stared mutely up at the intruder, horror rendering her speechless. Ironically, it was the feel of the cold steel at her forehead, and the roughness of the leather glove pressed against her mouth that awakened her. She moaned in her sleep, and tossed her head from side to side in a futile bid to escape the images of severed limbs and heartbroken mothers.Ī part of her was aware she was asleep, but every time she tried to pull herself out of the nightmare, it seemed to drag her back. The sea breeze parted the clouds, and the light of the full moon revealed the figure of a woman reclining on a sofa.

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. This book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law.

Dorothy Lyle in Avarice by Ella Carmichael