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Zusatztext "This book is a classic teen mystery/romance that may appeal to teens who were enthralled with the Twilight series. It is fast-paced! humorous! and light yet deals with some serious issues. Searching for your roots! dealing with dementia and mental illness! and finding independence are all touched upon in this third volume of the Dark Secrets series. The book is great for a short winter escape! or a long plane ride. It is a quick read with just enough suspense to keep you reading to solve the mystery. The characters are superficial but the storyline moves and is very timely. It is not the type of book you would write an English essay about! but it is great for a quick escape."—VOYA Informationen zum Autor Elizabeth Chandler Klappentext Anna O'Neill knows her family is crazy. But when she goes to visit her aunt and uncle for the summer and learns that her uncle's charred body has been found! her life reaches a new level of insanity. Torn between loyalty and suspicion! Anna is certain of only one thing: she must discover who killed her uncle or she could be next. one IT BEGAN AFTER midnight with a low hum, an electric buzz like that of a bass guitar string. The sound grew louder and I tried to cover my head with a pillow, but my arms, heavy with sleep, wouldn’t move. I struggled to sit up; I was paralyzed. Frightened, I tried to call out, but my mouth wouldn’t move. An odd sensation began in my feet and traveled up my body, each nerve ending tingling with electric energy. Stop! I thought. Please stop! Anna. Let go. It was a woman’s voice that spoke to me, a familiar voice, but I didn’t know where or when I had heard it. Years ago, I thought. Struggling to recall the person, I momentarily forgot my fear. The vibrations stopped, and I stood up. I was surrounded by darkness. In the distance an orange light shone. As I moved toward it, I heard a confusion of voices, people talking and laughing. The orange light flickered, and I heard crackling sounds. I could smell now—acrid smoke. I was at a fire. An object whistled close to my ears and exploded, glass against metal. A siren wailed. I heard feet—heard, rather than saw clearly, people running, panicking. I panicked too. I didn’t know who these people were or which way to turn, but instinct told me to get away from there. Then I heard someone else calling my name, a man this time. My uncle was calling to me from the fire. Anna, be careful. There were more sirens, the wailing growing closer. Anna, be careful. Uncle Will? I answered, moving in the direction of his voice. The fire surrounded me. I could see the flames like clothing on me, yet I felt no pain, no burning. I reached out my hand, then pulled it back in horror. I had seen through it. I slowly put out my left hand, then my right: They were transparent. Was I dead? Was it possible to die and not know it? Help! I called out. Help! Uncle Will! I want to go home. I was plucked out of the ghostly fire, reeled in like a fish. Opening my eyes, I found myself in bed at home. The two beds next to mine were empty. “Grace? Claire?” Silence. Then I saw my suitcase and remembered: The twins, Jack, and Mom had left early that morning. I was alone. Next to my suitcase was a plastic bag filled with summer clothes, enough for two months away. I had been dreaming— obviously —and yet I would have sworn that I had actually heard Uncle Will’s voice. A letter from him lay on top of my suitcase. I knew the letter by heart, but I climbed out of bed and carried it to the window, pushing back the curtain, unfolding the paper to read by the orange light of a streetlamp. May 23 Dear Anna, Would you visit us this summer? The sooner the better....
