By Bella Forrest
What Sofia has with Derek appears like a sandcastle; transitority and whatever that the waves of existence and time will quickly ruin...
Since the go back of Gregor Novak, the island has grew to become numerous colors darker. His hatred towards Sofia and thirst for clean blood result in a brutal warfare igniting among father and son.
Meanwhile, the hunters are gaining bold energy and assets through the day; they be aware of that the protection of The colour hangs fullyyt on its skill to stay hidden from them.
And a sinister mystery lies in look ahead to Sofia in the bowels of an Egyptian desert... a mystery that threatens to overwhelm her sandcastle a lot prior to she may have expected
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Extra resources for A Castle of Sand (A Shade of Vampire, Book 3)
26 Jaspe r Jones I shake my head. Incredulous. I try desperately to conceive of alternatives, ways of escape. ‘Well, no. We can’t. We can’t bury her, here and now. Okay? I don’t know. We don’t have any shovels. Or anything. Either way, it’ll take hours. The sun will be up before we’re finished. ’ ‘Not in the ground, Charlie. ’ And Jasper Jones motions towards the dam, its surface still as a sheet. My stomach knots. We are going to drown the dead. ’ I’m caught in a rip, being dragged out further and deeper against my will.
It’s almost dawn! We have to go back. Now! ’ Jasper Jones squints and slowly glances up. ’ He seems to ponder it. ‘Yeah, you’re right. Okay, Charlie. ’ His words are slurred. Now I really fear getting lost on our return. But not nearly as much as I fear my parents finding my bed empty. I can’t even imagine. ’ 48 Jaspe r Jones Jasper stands unsteadily and treads heavily. He slaps a hand on my shoulder. Looks at me, intent yet vacant. Full of sorrow. His breath is like acid. ‘Orright. ’ He pauses.
I’m lost. I can’t look to my left. I’ve blocked 23 C r aig Silv e y Laura’s body from my sight and my mind, but she keeps pressing, keeps insisting. She’s so close. It is too much to think about. Too much for one sitting. It’s too fast. Too, too fast. We seem to be wilfully ignoring Laura Wishart. Hanged. Hanging. Just metres away. If we don’t look, if we talk around her, she’ll dissolve into the night. And this won’t have happened. And I can go back home, sleep, and wake without the weight of knowing.