By Gary McMahon
20 years in the past, 3 boys staggered out of an outdated construction. lacking for a weekend, the lads had no notion the place they'd been, yet all of them shared an identical imprecise reminiscence of a shadowed wooded area grove. Now, Simon has lower back to the Concrete Grove to work out his previous neighbors and unearth painful adolescence thoughts, and issues as soon as buried are commencing to claw their as far back as the surface.
The hummingbirds are flying back. Nightmares made occur stroll the streets. a dismal entity is asking from the shadows, achieving out to 3 terrified boys who've grown into broken males. And the prior is set to meet up with all of them, staining their lives with a darkness they by no means actually escaped.
Silent Voices is the terrifying follow-up to McMahon's award-winning The Concrete Grove.
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Extra info for Silent Voices (Concrete Grove, Book 2)
I stared at that hair, thinking it was the color of hair I'd always presumed Keith's would be when he was a man. Thick, wavy hair that reached the nape of his neck and curled upward, barely brushing the white collar of his thin blouse that resembled an artist's or poet's smock, with very full sleeves. He turned a bit, as if my prolonged stare made him aware of my presence. Now I could see his profile. I sucked in my breath. It wasn't just that he was good looking. Pa Was handsome in his strong, bestial, and brutal way, and Logan was classically handsome in his own stubborn way; this man was good looking in a different kind of way, a special way I'd not seen before, and behind my eyes an image of Logan rose to fill me with guilt.
A man like Tony would never have sat on and on. Tony would rise, smile, take over the situation. This had to be a servant, a gardener, a handyman. From his very posture, the way he tilted his head a bit to the side, I knew he was waiting, perhaps even seeing me with peripheral vision. One of his dark, thick eyebrows quirked upward quizzically, and still he didn't move. Well, just let him sit there and wonder, for it gave me a marvelous chance to study him. Again he turned a little, his hammer posed to strike another blow, and now I saw more of his face, and the fact that his nostrils were quivering, flaring wider, even as I sensed he was breathing just as hard and fast as I was.
How did I talk to a man whose family had emi- grated from Europe, bringing with them their skills, and right away had begun to increase their fortune tenfold? I was lost in such territory, so I turned to something more familiar. I was captivated with the idea of Jillian painting. ” I asked with awe, very impressed. “She made the original sketches, then turned them over to several young artists to complete. ” His soft voice turned dreamy. “Her hair was long and fell halfway down her back then. She seemed a child woman one minute, a worldly one the next.
Silent Voices (Concrete Grove, Book 2) by Gary McMahon