The Crystal FishbowlAuthorHouse, 29. okt. 2007 - 436 sider Anna Westover had no idea at seventeen, still grief-stricken from the loss of her grandmother, and back living with her horrible family, that Victor Spofford, a young charismatic Baptist preacher, would be the wrong choice, the worst choice. On her grandmothers insistence shed refused to even date the boy shed always loved, simply because he wasnt Baptist. Annas wedding was a dream; her new life in western Massachusetts a wondrous challengeuntil mysterious letters began to arrive. Then Victor changed . . . or was it that he finally revealed his true nature? No one would believe that he abused her. He never hitat least not intentionally. And as the preachers wife, she could confide in no one. To others, he was gorgeous, enlightened and dynamic. He knew the perfect words to give comfort or guidance. He brought scores of sinners to the Lord with his woeful childhood tales. Who was she but his meek wife, lovely yet subdued, who sat in her accustomed front-row pew each Sunday morning, gazing up at him in adoration? He was always sorry later: crying, begging forgiveness. And she wanted to believe him. He was so pitiful in his sorrow. But after he lost his job and they returned to New Hampshire, her hopes are firmly and completely crushed when another letter arrives, and she uncovers his lies. Desperate for comfort, she turns to another man. Then the violence escalates and she must take a stand. |
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... Bless us, oh Lord. Amen. Digin, guys.” The clamor resumed as he sat. Chairs scraped across the scarred wooden floor, flatware clinked against plates and voices murmured. “The food is cold,” Karen said as she held up 28 Wendy MacGown.
... chairs and found a spot for her and Lucy at the far corner of the gym. Then knee–toknee, she took Lucy's cold hands in hers and waited for her sobbing to end. She had no idea what to say, where to begin. She'd never witnessed before ...
... chair and glared at her. Anna snatched her hand away and blinked fast, her mind blank. “No, really,” she said, searching for words. “I have a slow sister. Without Christ watching over me, I don't know how I'd have made it through a ...
... chairs and collecting the trash. Her mind and body, spent from the long day, obeyed their commands. But when she lifted her arms to help push the bleachers back into place, the world spun. A gray fog rose softly from the floor and ...
... chairs. To the left, a massive refrigerator chugged and sputtered beside a white enamel sink. Water dripped from a ... chair. She swayed toward him, craving his warmth. “Where is everyone?” she asked, looking around the kitchen and ...