Willow by Susan Thomas

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SKU 978-0-3695-0944-4

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She stumbles out of a wheat field on a hot September afternoon, torn, battered, and in a state of shock—but who is she? Daniel calls her Willow and is determined to protect her from her past. Despite the horrific memories that plague her, Willow reluctantly allows Daniel and his cousin Zach to try and uncover her identity. The journey they undertake puts all three of their lives in danger. Deception and murder are in her past, what else will they discover? One thing is certain … Willow is not sure that she wants to know the truth.

14+ due to violence and adult situations



They coaxed me into the room, but I wouldn’t sit down. I was too jumpy.

“The dogs,” Daniel prompted.  “What do you remember?”

This was just cruel. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to remember.”

“It’s important, Willow.” He took me by the shoulders and looked directly into my eyes. “You know we wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”

“Let go of me.” I twisted away and stood by the window.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

 The sun on the water beckoned me. I wanted to lose myself in the calmness of its unruffled surface.

“You should try.”  Zach sounded impatient.  Like he was tired of the whole terrified female thing. 

“Do you think it’s easy?” I demanded, without bothering to turn around. If I kept my attention on the lake, maybe they would just leave me alone.

Zach persisted anyway. “No, I don’t think it’s easy; but I do think it’s necessary.”

“Maybe we should back off, Zach,” Daniel intervened, suddenly backing me up. “You can’t force these things.”

“No, and we’re not really trained in this are we? But we’re all she’s got. So, unless she’s prepared to turn herself in and get some proper help, we’re the ones who are going to have to deal with it.”

“Stop it.” I stamped my foot and swung back to look at them. “This isn’t helping.”

“Sorry…” Daniel mumbled again.

“And stop apologizing, Daniel.”

Zach ran his hands through his hair. Dry, it was a deep golden brown. “Then what?” he demanded. “Are you going to work at this, or cop out?” He threw it at me like a challenge.

“I don’t cop out.” Somehow, I knew this was true, after all, I was here wasn’t I? Whatever had happened in my past I had dealt with it, and I had made it this far. “But I don’t even know how to begin.”