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Book Release...House of the Hanging Jade by Amy Reade
A dark presence had invaded the Jorgensens’ house. On a spectacular bluff overlooking the Pacific, something evil, something wary and watchful, had shattered the peace.
Tired of the cold winters in Washington, D.C. and disturbed by her increasingly obsessive boyfriend, Kailani Kanaka savors her move back to her native Big Island of Hawaii. She also finds a new job as personal chef for the Jorgensen family. The gentle caress of the Hawaiian trade winds, the soft sigh of the swaying palm trees, and the stunning blue waters of the Pacific lull her into a sense of calm at the House of Hanging Jade—an idyll that quickly fades as it becomes apparent that dark secrets lurk within her new home. Furtive whispers in the night, a terrifying shark attack, and the discovery of a dead body leave Kailani shaken and afraid. But it’s the unexpected appearance of her ex-boyfriend, tracking her every move and demanding she return to him, that has her fearing for her life…
Excerpt:
Later that evening I had opened my bedroom window to the sound of the surf when I thought I heard heated whispering outdoors. I peered through the blinds to see who was outside, but no one was there. It was then I realized the voices were being carried on the wind from the master-bedroom lanai, above and to the left of my room. I strained to hear what was going on.
“Why do you bring him here?” Mr. Jorgensen’s voice hissed.
“Because he’s a colleague and a friend. And he hates hotels. They’re so impersonal. You’re the one who insisted on coming to live here.”
“A colleague and a friend? Is that all?”
“Of course.”
“You’re lying.”
“If you don’t believe me, then why did you ask?”
“To see if you had the guts to tell me the truth!” Mr. Jorgensen’s voice rose.
“Shh!”
Their voices lowered immediately and I couldn’t hear anymore. It was clear that Mr. Jorgensen suspected an affair between Mrs. Jorgensen and Dr. Fitzgibbons, but she hadn’t admitted it. I suddenly felt sorry for Mr. Jorgensen.
The next morning when the kids came into the kitchen they were tired and cranky. I greeted them brightly and got stares and mumbles in return. They ate the breakfast I made them and grabbed their lunches as Mr. Jorgensen appeared in the kitchen to tell them good-bye. Marcus called to me over his shoulder as he left for school, “I hope this is better than yesterday’s lunch.”
He was going to be disappointed.
Mr. Jorgensen told me not to bother with that burger that he had ordered for lunch. Something had come up unexpectedly and he was catching a flight to the mainland and would be there for a couple days. Mrs. Jorgensen informed me that neither she nor Dr. Fitzgibbons were coming home for lunch either, so I had much of the day to myself. I spent part of the day tidying up my suite of rooms, then decided to go kayaking in the afternoon.
I had strapped my kayak to the roof of the car when I moved to the Jorgensens’ house and it was stored in the garage. This was my first chance to use it. Carrying the kayak over my head, I wound my way down to the water in front of the house. A short, steep path had been worn into the lava near the pali, and I managed to lug my kayak down the path.
The lava at the shore was jagged and rough. I always marveled at the way lava looked soft and ropy from a distance, when up close it could be as sharp as broken glass. Small pulverized bits of the char-coal-colored rock led down to the water, which was crashing lazily against the shoreline. It was a perfect day for being on the water.
I put in between two swells and rowed quickly to get over the waves and away from the shore. Once I was out a short distance, I started paddling north, parallel to the coast, taking my time and enjoying the view. Maui was sixty miles ahead of me and to the left. I felt tiny. I watched the land slip by and savored the quiet lapping of the waves and the bright sunshine. My kayak dipped and rose with the waves and the effect was so mesmerizing I almost forgot to paddle. As I drifted closer to shore, I could see a faraway figure walking slowly down the main road to the Jorgensen house. It looked like Marcus.
My heart went out to him. He looked so small and alone on his way home from school. I wished he weren’t so unapproachable and prickly, because I would be happy to be his friend. Justine skipped along behind him, swinging her backpack and taking time to stop every now and then to pluck flowers from the side of the road.
I didn’t hurry back to the house because I had left food in the kitchen for the kids’ snack. I was enjoying the freedom of being on the water, the warm trade winds whipping my hair. Eventually I turned back and headed down the coastline. The wind was kicking up the waves a bit so I couldn't relax much, but it felt good to be working hard. And it was certainly easier than fighting the bitterly cold wind in Washington. Close to the pali, I again waited for a lull in the waves and eased over to the rocky shoreline between two crests. I scrambled out of the kayak and onto land, hauling my boat up behind me before a wave could come and smash me into the rocks.
See you on the other side!
Chevoque
