BOOK DETAILS

Tuckers Creek: The Mystery Of Elijah Tucker

Tuckers Creek: The Mystery Of Elijah Tucker

by David Price

ASIN: B01N1ISI0I

Publisher David Price

Published in Mystery & Thrillers/Mystery, Science Fiction & Fantasy/Paranormal, Literature & Fiction/Contemporary, Mystery & Thrillers, Literature & Fiction

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Book Description

Stu is adapting to small town life when he meets the spirit of his late uncle who takes him on a series of escalating confrontations with the people responsible for his uncle’s murder. Stu keeps his ghostly encounters a secret but it becomes a struggle balancing a normal life with the whims of his deceased relative. As the death toll begins to rise the mystery behind his uncle’s murder unravels leaving Stu and everyone he loves at risk.

Sample Chapter

The trees around the clearing were bereft of leaves and a crisp frost clung to the yellowed grass covering the ground. I was having a hard time remembering when I might have seen such a place when I heard the voice of a young man. “It’s all gone.”

A chill breeze cut across the field, stirring the naked branches in the forest. I braced myself against the biting breeze but didn’t feel the least bit cold. I was looking for who spoke when I heard movement from inside the ruins of the house. When I looked I saw the figure of a young man standing among the burnt timbers.

“Who are you?” I asked.

He climbed from ruined building and stood short distance away. He looked young, maybe my age, in fact we looked a lot alike except his skin tone was darker than mine. People often found it surprising when they learned I had a black mother. It wasn’t an obvious heritage with me but with this young man it was. I was so focused on his face I failed to notice his hands and the lower part of his legs weren’t clearly visible. Where his limbs should have been there was a distortion in the air.

I was frightened. I knew this house and this person was not a memory. I had never seen this house or this young man before. It had to be my imagination but I couldn’t shake myself free from it. He was looking at his hands and then suddenly what looked like fireflies began to gather around him. At first there was only a dozen or so of the glowing specs but then more came and they began darting around the young man, circling him like bright little mosquitos. I watched in amazement as these glowing bits began to collect and cling to his missing appendages. Soon I could see the shape of his hands and even fingers. His feet began to take form as well, including the clothing he was wearing.

The glowing specs dimmed after the transformation was complete and the young man flexed his fingers and smiled as if he was seeing them for the first time. “God this feels good!”

The frozen ground beneath him seemed to defrost. The yellowed grass began to turn green and reach up to touch his outstretched hands. It seemed to make happy watching the cold ground come to life. “It used to be so beautiful.” He said. He turned to the house and raised his arms and I watched with wide eyes as a million of glowing specs exploded from the very ground.

I shielded my eyes from the blinding storm as it circled and descended on the ruins of the house. A building began to take shape rising up and spreading out forming walls, doors and windows. When the glow subsided the ruins were gone and a beautiful plantation house stood in its place. Up to that point I wasn’t sure where I was but when I saw the house knew. It looked just like the house on the stamping tool. I was seeing Tuckers Creek.

“Look at it!” He said in an angry voice. “This was my home and they took it from me! He turned from the house to face me and he extended his arms, showing me his hands. “I knew what it was like to live and they took that too.”

I moved a step backwards and he laughed.

“You have nothing to fear from me.” He said. “I’m indebted to you.” He looked at his hands again and I noticed they were beginning to glow. His expression looked very tired and his voice was distinctly more strained. “But all in good time.”

I asked him again. “Who are you?”

The glowing began to spread across his entire body starting where it began with his hands and feet. Just before the affect could spread up his torso he looked at me and answered. “You called me. I heard you and I came.”

In a bright flash his body exploded into thousands of tiny bright specs, as did the house, and as if they were caught up in a great wind the glowing specs were quickly swept away.

The vision was gone in an instant. I was in the shop, sitting at the workbench, with the bat in my hands. My fingers felt numb and cold and the bat rolled from my hands to the back of the bench. I was looking at the handle, staring at the name etched in the dark wood.

Continues...

Excerpted from "Tuckers Creek: The Mystery Of Elijah Tucker" by David Price. Copyright © 2016 by David Price. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Author Profile

David Price

David Price

I’ve spent all of my years traveling and as a result I’ve lived all across the country and a couple places outside the United States. Everywhere I’ve been I’ve met a diverse cast of people and discovered new ways to look at life. These experiences have provided a treasure of things to write about. Divorce affected my life at the early age. I was born in Arkansas but when my parents split I moved with my mother and my brother to Canada to live with an uncle. Talk about diverse life experiences, try changing schools half way through the year in a move from Arkansas to Canada. I don’t know who was more confused, me or the Canadians. Right now I live in Tennessee where it looks like I'll stay until I retire and then I'm going to Florida. I got into writing in 2005. For me it was a creative outlet. I like to compare telling a story to painting a picture with words. Some of my favorite authors are Stephen King for the way he fleshes out his characters, and Anne Rice for her ability to write a scene like it’s a part of history.

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