Book Review - A Desolate Hour by Mae Clair

Sins of the past could destroy all of their futures . . .
For generations, Quentin Marsh’s family has seen its share of tragedy, though he remains skeptical that their misfortunes are tied to a centuries-old curse. But to placate his pregnant sister, Quentin makes the pilgrimage to Point Pleasant, West Virginia, hoping to learn more about the brutal murder of a Shawnee chief in the 1700s. Did one of the Marsh ancestors have a hand in killing the chief —the man who cursed the town with his dying breath?

While historian Sarah Sherman doesn’t believe in curses either, she’s compelled to use her knowledge of Point Pleasant to uncover the long-buried truth. The river town has had its own share of catastrophes, many tied to the legendary Mothman, the winged creature said to haunt the woods. But Quentin’s arrival soon reveals that she may have more of a stake than she realized. It seems that she and Quentin possess eerily similar family heirlooms. And the deeper the two of them dig into the past, the more their search enrages the ancient mystical forces surrounding Point Pleasant. As chaos and destruction start to befall residents, can they beat the clock to break the curse before the Mothman takes his ultimate revenge? . . .

"

Buy link Amazon

My Review

“Run from the thunder,

Run from the rain,

Lightning can’t hurt you,

The wind is in vain, ”    Sarah keeps saying in A Desolate Hour.
    .
Mae Clair is one of the best writers I've read. I've read a lot, indie and traditional.  She's one of the best overall. Her writing style and also the characters she creates are amazing, yet, characters any of us can easily  relate to. Once I started reading I couldn’t put the book down until I had read every word. I loved the characters, especially  Caden and Eve. But more characters are added to the story here in A Desolate Hour, like Sarah and the mysterious QM from book 2. Each with her or his secret and karmic burden.I want to make a special mention of Shawn, a perfect portrayal of an evil character, no matter his justification.

By the way, the title is a perfect fit for the story. The author couldn’t have found a better one.

For someone who is reading Book 3 it would be helpful to read the previous stories to fully tie all the threads together. But the book can be read as a standalone and there are reminders along the first chapters smoothly weaved in the plot that help the reader understand who’s who.

I knew I had to prepare myself to say goodbye to this incredible cast of characters at the end of this book, especially to Drayandor. Sadly this  did nothing to lighten the blow. With every passing page I marveled over the genius of the words before me and fretted over the dwindling number of pages left ahead of me. Now a few words about the story. 
Amazing. Entertaining. Beautiful, [of course.] I don't know if I'd want to know a person who couldn't absolutely adore this entire series. As I  mourn my goodbyes to these characters I have come to know and love (and sometimes hate, see Obadiah's descendant) and attempt to pull myself together to face life again, I offer a most sincere plea to Ms.  Clair to be so kind as to spin another tale for us (and quickly). The world is truly a better place with her books in it for everyone to enjoy.

The suspense builds constantly making readers curious to see what comes next. And the expectations aren’t in vain. Almost each chapter, and even scenes, end in cliffhangers that urge you to postpone other chores and go on reading.

For example:

“Everything that happens around here gets blamed on Cornstalk’s curse.”or

“The tip of the scars he carried from the Mothman poked from beneath his sleeve. . . . the welts had never changed in appearance or texture. Until today. Normally vibrant red, they were now jet black." or
"It was time to leave, to get out before someone spied his Charger in the
driveway. He cleaned up the sink, wiped up his bloody prints, and looked
around for a piece of paper.
There was one more thing he had to do to make the scene complete."

Based on a real tragic event the three books combine, in a skillful way, folklore, paranormal and romantic suspense. If you love mysteries linked to the Men in Black, UFOs, the Mothman, Ouja boards, curses spanning the centuries and marking the main characters’ lives or   reincarnation this is a series you SHOULDN''T miss!

         To sum up - another superb story, packed full of action and emotion,  by the talented Mae Clair that will keep lovers of the paranormal/romantic suspense  genre well entertained!

Book Spotlight Harbinger Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3

I am pleased to have as guest, again, Marcia, the lovely host from The Write Stuff and a prolific author. She brings us her latest release
                       Harbinger Wake-Robin Ridge
                                          Book 3

 Blurb: 

Continuing in the tradition of Wake-Robin Ridge and A Boy Named Rabbit, Marcia Meara's North Carolina mountain series takes a shivery turn with the Appalachian Legend of Ol' Shuck, the Harbinger of Death.

“. . . he felt the wet slide of the dog’s burning hot tongue on his face, and the scrape of its razor sharp teeth against the top of his head. A white-hot agony of crushing pain followed, as the jaws began to close.”

The wine-red trillium that carpets the forests of the North Carolina Mountains is considered a welcome harbinger of spring—but not all such omens are happy ones. An Appalachian legend claims the Black Dog, or Ol' Shuck, as he's often called, is a harbinger of death. If you see him, you or someone you know is going to die.

But what happens when Ol' Shuck starts coming for you in your dreams? Nightmares of epic proportions haunt the deacon of the Light of Grace Baptist Church, and bring terror into the lives of everyone around him. Even MacKenzie Cole and his adopted son, Rabbit, find themselves pulled into danger.

When Sheriff Raleigh Wardell asks Mac and Rabbit to help him solve a twenty-year-old cold case, Rabbit’s visions of a little girl lost set them on a path that soon collides with that of a desperate man being slowly driven mad by guilt.

As Rabbit’s gift of the Sight grows ever more powerful, his commitment to those who seek justice grows as well, even when their pleas come from beyond the grave.

 Excerpts From Chapter 11

Monday Afternoon, March 10, 2014

North Carolina Mountains

RABBIT’S SILENCE TOLD Mac almost as much as his frown did. Something was bothering his son. Worry showed on the boy’s face and in his body language, as the two of them walked away from the parked Jeep, and headed up the long driveway toward the Birdwell place. Full of eager chatter about his reimagined control module on the drive over, Rabbit’s mood had changed the minute they climbed out of the vehicle.

“You want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

Shoulders hunched upward in a half-hearted shrug, Rabbit didn’t say anything for a few more steps, but then he slowed, scanning the area to each side of them. “Don’t you feel nothin’ different today, Daddy?”

“Different how?”

Another hunch of those narrow shoulders. “Just … different. It don’t feel so good here right now. Feels like somethin’s waitin’.”

Mac came to a dead halt. “Waiting? What do you mean? Like waiting for us? Is someone here?” He’d assumed all the tire tracks in the drive were from their previous visits, but maybe not. He studied the impressions left in the dry, powdery clay, but he couldn’t tell how old they were.

Rabbit stayed by his side, peering more closely at the drive, too. “I ain’t never learnt to read tracks an’ such. Grampa was always plannin’ to teach me someday, but … well … I guess we just run out of somedays. Can you tell anything by lookin’ at these here?”

Mac confessed he couldn’t. “Maybe we’ll get some books on tracking. Well, tracking animals and stuff, at least. It would be fun to learn how together, wouldn’t it?”

At that, Rabbit perked up for a minute. “I’d like that a lot. It’d make Grampa happy to know I was learnin’ ‘bout it, too, even if he ain’t here to teach me hisself.”

They stood side by side, staring up the road in silence, and Mac wondered whether coming today had been a good idea, after all. “Maybe we should leave, Rabbit. We can come back another day.”

With a shake of his head, Rabbit started walking again. “I don’t think nothin’s gonna hurt us. It’s just a weird ol’ feelin’ … like breath bein’ held. Like somethin’ bigger than we are is waitin’ to see what comes next. Bigger than people, I mean, not just you an’ me. I can’t ‘splain it no better than that.”

“But it doesn’t feel like we’re in danger?”

The boy shook his head again. “No. But the woods is awful still, like even the critters are waitin’ to see what’s comin’.”

Eyeing the trees around them, Mac realized Rabbit was right. The woods were still as death. No birdsong, no animals rustling in the heavy underbrush, no breeze stirring the leaves. It was eerie and disturbing.

He considered leaving again. “Maybe we really should go, Rabbit.”

“But what if we went on home an’ come back another time, an’ it weren’t no different? We’re already here. Reckon it won’t hurt to walk a little bit closer, anyway. If anything starts feelin’ worse, we can always leave then, right?”

Mac nodded his agreement, and they continued on their way, but he decided then and there, he’d bring his shotgun next time. There was a reason for the old expression, ‘better safe than sorry,’ and where his son—his whole family—was concerned, Mac didn’t intend to end up sorry, this time. No, he promised himself. Not ever again.

~~~

THE OPPRESSIVE SILENCE of their surroundings kept both Mac and Rabbit more subdued than usual. They trudged up the long drive, each lost in his own thoughts, for another quarter mile, and rounded a bend, just as a bloody apparition burst out of the woods and raced directly toward them.

Mac immediately stationed himself between Rabbit and the frantic man, who screamed at the sight of them. Eyes wild and arms windmilling all over the place, he skidded to a stop three feet away, gasping and wheezing. Blood dripped down his face from numerous small cuts, and sweat plastered his red hair to his skull.

Before Mac could ask what was wrong, or offer help, the man shrieked, “Get outta my way!” and shoved past them.

Stunned, Mac watched him lurch down the road, yelling every step of the way, and glancing back over his shoulder again and again, as though he were being chased by the hounds of Hell. His screams grew fainter until after a few minutes, they could no longer hear him at all.

Rabbit tugged on Mac’s arm, eyes wide in his pale face. “Daddy? Can we go home now?”

“I think we should, partner. I don’t know what was chasing that man, and I don’t want to find out, either. You were right to think something’s wrong here, today.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong, now, though. Listen.”

Sure enough. The birds were calling again, and a soft wind shushed through the pines. Off in the distance, a fox barked. The woods had returned to normal.

“Huh. You’re right, Rabbit. Everything seems fine, now. But you still want to go home?”

“Yes, please. Might be, I got some thinkin’ to do.”

They headed back toward the Jeep, quiet once more, though for very different reasons, this time. As they approached the vehicle, Mac asked, “Rabbit? Do you know what happened to that all-wrong feeling you had earlier?”

“Yes. It went away as soon as the man did.”

                                        ~~~

Author Bio

Marcia Meara lives in central Florida, just north of Orlando, with her husband of over thirty years, four big cats, and two small dachshunds. When not writing or blogging, she spends her time gardening, and enjoying the surprising amount of wildlife that manages to make a home in her suburban yard. At the age of five, Marcia declared she wanted to be an author, and is ecstatic that at age 69, she finally began pursuing that dream. Three years later, she’s still going strong, and plans to keep on writing until she falls face down on the keyboard, which she figures would be a pretty good way to go!

   

Marcia has published six books to date, all of which are available on Amazon in both print and Kindle format:

  

Wake-Robin Ridge

A Boy Named Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2

Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3 

Swamp Ghosts: A Riverbend Novel

Finding Hunter: Riverbend Book 2

Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love

You can reach Marcia via email at mmeara@cfl.rr.com
or on the following social media sites:

The Write Stuff:  http://marciamearawrites.com/

Bookin' It: http://marciameara.wordpress.com
Twitter: @marciameara
Facebook: www.facebook.com/marcia.meara.writer
Pinterest:  http://www.pinterest.com/marciameara/

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https://marciamearawrites.com/mail-list-win-free-stuff/