Christian Fiction Friday: #4

When Memory Whispers

When Memory Whisper v2

Disguised as a middle-aged British housewife, Marie travels by train from London to Hatfield. Her assignment: exchange information with a double-agent she knows only as Twist.

Marie stopped in front of a chemist shop and stared at the display window. Twist’s boarding house appeared in the reflection, the shade of the upper-story window drawn in the required three-quarters position. She pulled at the collar of her coat and imagined Twist’s reaction if she told him about Colin’s clumsy overture. He’d laugh his big laugh, revealing those shiny gold teeth, then splash more whiskey in his tea.

With an amused smile, she turned from the shop and prepared to cross the street. Traffic was light, and she spied the opening that would let her safely cross without resorting to any unmatronly running. As she stepped off the curb, she glanced up at the window.

And stared.

The shade was up, and a man’s silhouette pressed against the bare glass. As if stuck in a pause between seconds, Marie stood open-mouthed as a second shadow appeared behind the silhouette.

Was Twist the silhouette or the shadow?

Marie pressed her palm against the thin stinger hidden in the folds of her skirt. The slender pistol’s range, two to three yards at most, couldn’t help Twist from here, but it was the only weapon she carried.

She scanned the street for another opening in the traffic then stumbled forward as someone bumped into her. Her knee smacked against the fender of a parked car to the odd sound of shattering glass. A scream echoed through her ears, but whether it was her own or someone else’s, she didn’t know. Shaking her head, she tried to make sense of the senselessness that surrounded her.

“A thousand apologies.” A masculine voice breathed close to her scarf-covered ear. Her knee stung, and a large gaping hole ran down her woolen stocking. She gingerly touched the scrape, and blood warmed her fingers. “I should pay more attention to where I’m going.”

The brim of a tan cap shaded the stranger’s face. His smile was friendly, but not his hold on her arm.

“It’s all right,” Marie stammered. “I’m fine.”

The stranger leaned forward, his whisper coarse. “You must come with me.” The smile returned, and he spoke again, louder this time. “Please. Allow me to help you.” He gripped her bag with his free hand.

“I don’t want your help.” Marie glanced around, but the one or two people who might have witnessed the incident were staring in the opposite direction. She tugged on the bag’s handle, but he held it tight. “Let go or I’ll scream.”

His face moved so close that his breath brushed her cheek. “Then you’ll die.”

Continue reading When Memory Whispers

{Note: This excerpt is from an unpublished novel which is not under contract. While my WIP is a contemporary romance, I sometimes return to this beloved story, my first completed manuscript, and hope to see it in print someday. Read the first excerpt here.}

Christian Fiction Friday is a weekly blog hop where authors post snippets from their current works in progress. It is hosted by Alana Terry and Hallee Bridgeman. Click here for a full list of rules and suggestions.

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