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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... mortified. Did everyone know about Granny's plans? “Okay, Joyce,” Granny said with a laugh. “How about that tea you so graciously offered; and don't mind if I do about a scone.” She laid a hand on Anna's arm. 4 Wendy MacGown.
... okay?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. She shook her head, and winced. “Are you okay?” he asked, then stopped her with a hand, and spun her around beneath the shade of a massive oak, his other hand on her waist. “Yes, I'm fine,” she said ...
... okay,” Shirley mouthed, then resumed her reading. Anna sat back in bed with a sigh. Shirley was indeed a pushover; but unlike Karen, she would not take advantage. Asmall sound rent the silence, then a discordantshriek. Girls were ...
... Okay,” she said, her knees almost buckling. She felt his gaze upon her as she returned to her table, and sat with her back straight, trying not to look at him; glad Karen was off with those boys. She saw them heading her way. She sipped ...
... okay. I love my brother. But I hate the pity, the way people look at me . . . like I'm a retard, too.” “I know,” Anna said, touching her knee. “Share your burden with Jesus?” “Get real,” Lucy said, then slid back in her chair and glared ...