Title: Whispers of Apple Blossoms
Author: Brett Mitchell Kent
Genre: Dark fantasy
Book Blurb:
A love story spanning decades. A lonely widow mourning her husband and daughter. A trail of missing people all leading to one unpredictable source. Edna Mann, a lonely widow longing for the family she's lost, finds companionship in an unlikely source when her late husband begins communicating with her through her houseplant. As those around her begin to disappear, Edna must confront the reality that something much worse may be at play... and has been for longer than she could have ever expected. An atmospheric and haunting tale of love, heartache, fear, and obsession. The warped reality of an elderly woman filled with regret interlaces with the story of the past she desperately longs to relive. Whispers of Apple Blossoms is as romantic as it is heartbreakingly sinister and, as each petal falls, pulls you further into the darkness and toward the unforgettable finale.
Excerpt:
“Hey? Wake up,” the voice said, shaking Edna’s shoulder gently.
Edna’s eyes struggled to open against the light. A shadow fell over her.
The world blinked into focus. Betty hovered over her as though she were a child in a crib. Another figure hovered beside, out of focus.
“Betty? What on earth?” Edna groaned.
“Edna, you know this isn’t Betty. It’s Grace. And Ruth,” Grace said.
Edna’s eyes struggled to focus; she looked around the room, searching for Betty. She had just been there. Hadn’t she?
“Why did you call me and then just hang up? Edna? Are you listening?”
Edna zoned back in. What? Who had she called? She felt around her to find the familiar comfort of Henry’s chair. The fall. The last she recalled was lying in a heap on the floor. Had that just been a dream?
“Oh, stop your belly-aching and go on home. Can’t an old lady take a nap anymore?”
“Edna, why did you call us? Why is there dirt all over the darn place?”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady. I am still your mother!” Edna rose shakily to her feet, roaring pain in her hip and knees. She fought through it and hobbled past, intent on a swift exit. Grace took a gentle hold of her aunt’s elbow, peeling back the thin white fabric to reveal a deep purple and yellow bruise.
“This is not Betty. This is Grace,” she spoke slowly as if Edna were an idiot. “Where are you going? I think you might be confused.”
“Wherever I please.”
“This is exactly what I mean. You don’t even remember what happened, do you?” Grace straightened her shoulders and looked Edna dead in the eyes. “You can’t do it anymore. You aren’t safe. You left the stove on to take a nap! I’m sorry. I really am. But I had to make a decision…”
“Listen to her, Edna,” Ruth interjected. “This really might be for the best. They look really nice. We could tour one.”
Realization sank in as Ruth’s voice trailed off. Old-people prison. A waking nightmare she wouldn’t have any hope to escape from.
“Ruth, you old hag! You’re older than I am; why don’t you go into one of those hell holes if you like them so much!” Edna jerked her arm away, and before her mind could give the directive, her open palm connected squarely with Grace’s plump cheek. Tears clouded her vision as she shuffled away as fast as her brittle bones would carry her.
The bedroom door slammed behind her.
“Edna? Edna. Please just open the door. Let’s have a chat about it. It won’t be today. I promise.”
“I can’t believe she thought I was Betty! How long has it been since she went miss—”
“Oh, my Lord,” Ruth’s voice trembled, sounded disturbed. “What is that?”
Grace wailed, “Mom, get back. Mom!”
Edna burrowed herself into her blankets, pretending the sound of their voices was somewhere far away. Willing it to be so. Her chest ached.
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This is a twisty dark fantasy with a romantic heart--an ideal mash-up of creepy and sweetness.
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Author Biography:
Raised in the shadows of cornfields and oak forests where the smell of natural fertilizer is never more than a stone ’s throw away, Brett Mitchell Kent is a proud rural Midwesterner. His greatest joy comes from time spent with his husband, daughters, and sisters, enjoying great food and fresh air. He co-hosts the indie-horror focused podcast Cutthroat Queens, and you can read his short stories in various anthologies. A self-proclaimed “serial hobbyist,” Brett is a writer, reader, multimedia artist, and boardgame nerd. Whispers of Apple Blossoms is his debut novel.
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