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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... . . . I do like you,” she whispered, glancing at Granny, who was tapping her foot in annoyance, a slight smile on her lips. “Just not like that.” Her hands were trembling when she hung up the phone. 9 The Crystal Fishbowl.
... whispered, noting the writing on the side of her bus—Calvary Baptist Church, Concord, New Hampshire. She seemed oblivious to the attention. “Snow Camp,” Anna whispered, ignoring the stares and the frozen way people acted around her, as ...
... whispered, pulling her arm. “Come on. Let's bunk nearby.” “Beside those windows,” Anna said, pointing to the bunk next to where Shirley sat engrossed in a stack of papers. All of a sudden, girls poured into the room, talking and ...
... whispered. “Quiet time has already started.” Anna nodded. Mortification rippled across her back as she followed her past the rows of bunks. Female eyes flickered up, taking in her disobedience. With an easy grace, Shirley curled up on ...
... whispered as she swung into the upper bunk, choking off questions with her terse tone. The other girls filed to their bunks, heads down. Seconds passed, then minutes while Anna waited for Karen to settle, waited for her furtive whispers ...