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  1. Regina's Avatar
    Reading: Echo 8 by Sharon Lynn Fisher
    Just Finished Reading: Ghost Planet by Sharon Lynn Fisher
    TBR: 20+
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    Jun 2006
    Seattle, WA

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    Regina is offline

    Default Excerpt #1: Alien Deceptions...

    They were back! What did they want this time? She was paralyzed as ice water
    seemed to creep through her veins. Her muscles refused to cooperate. She wanted
    to run, to hide, anything but this awful feeling of being unable to move. No!
    No! Not again! I don't want to go with you! As usual her wants were not taken
    into account, and the familiar process began to take place.

    The white light that was blinding and so common to these experiences spilled
    into the room from one window on the west wall. Her bed was turned so the foot
    of it faced the opposing wall in an attempt to deter her tormentors in the hopes
    that she could deter her tormentors.

    Wolf howled in the back yard, and his chain rattled in an attempt to get to her.
    There would be no protection this night. They had found her again. No matter how
    many times she moved, they found her. The recent move to Portland, Oregon was no
    exception. For a year she was safe. Now it didn't matter, it was all starting

    Her body felt light and she levitated off the bed. The blood stilled in her
    veins, her body growing stiffer. The sensation of fight or flight took over, but
    she had no energy to follow through with it.
    There was a small scraping sound to her left and she turned her eyes, the only
    thing she could move in that direction. The window opened by itself. A blue beam
    with her torturers, tiny, hairless gray beings with large black eyes flowed into
    the room. She shut her eyes; she didn't want to see them. Her blankets were
    removed, and hands guided her body.

    Their grainy, leathery hands were so cold she shivered involuntarily. She hated
    it when they touched her. Caught in the blue beam she looked up to see something
    she had hoped never to see again. Her body floated out the open window and then
    up, up, up towards the waiting craft.

    Her back brushed the top of the cedar tree in her back yard. She knew which tree
    it was because she could smell its calming scent. Far below her Wolf had ceased
    his howling, but she could still hear his whimpers as though from far away.
    Tears that would not fall grew in the corners of her eyes. I should never have
    tied Wolf up in the backyard. If she had kept him with her maybe she would not
    be about to suffer this again.

    Unable to resist she opened her eyes just in time to see the bottom of the craft
    open up before she floated inside. Terror moved through her, making her previous
    fear seem as nothing. What are they going to do this time? What tests will they
    perform? Will they return me to my home, or will I disappear from Earth never to
    be seen again? The not knowing what to expect was the worst. The only thing that
    was ever certain with these experiences was it would be extremely painful both
    psychologically and physically. Everything else about the experiences depended
    on the tormentors.

    She opened her eyes, and looked around. I must've blacked out again. She wiggled
    her fingers and attempted to pick up her hands, but found she could not. They
    had put her wrists in restraints. She tried to lift one of her legs and found
    her ankles restrained as well.
    They removed my clothes again! It was one of the worst things about the
    experiences. She had nothing, nothing. No way to protect herself. No way to run.
    No way to escape. It was always the same, trapped like a rat in a maze with
    nowhere to hide.

    Huge black tilted eyes that seemed to almost encompass the entire width of an
    overly large gray skull were peering down at her. She found she could not seem
    to look away.

    Don't be afraid, we will not hurt you. An almost mechanical voice touched her

    Leave me alone! Let me go!

    You are special, you are one of our chosen ones. Only you and others like you
    can help save your planet. The voice continued as though she was not trying to

    In some dim corner of Angel's mind she knew she had been told this before. In
    fact this was their main communication at the beginning of an experience. They
    were trying to distract her from what they were doing. She remembered this from
    the other times. They would speak to her in her mind, tell her how special she
    was and how what they were doing to her would help them to save her world. It
    was all lies. She knew what they were doing, and she knew it was wrong.

    She felt their leathery hands on her stomach. She tried to look down, but the
    alien's black eyes would not let her. A sharp agonizing pain in her stomach
    below her navel told her they were doing a familiar procedure. A procedure they
    called a pregnancy test and that was performed by inserting a large needle about
    a quarter inch around into her ovaries to extract eggs. Why they called it a
    pregnancy test, she had never been able to figure out.

    Some small part of her mind grasped weakly at the idea, there was something here
    she was not remembering, something important.

    You are feeling no pain, no pain. It interrupted her thought processes.

    No pain, my ass!

    For some reason, her tormentors seemed to think if they told her there would be
    no pain, it would somehow miraculously disappear. What a crock! She always felt
    the pain of their procedures.

    The agony escalated to enormous proportions, and Angels's mind in an effort to
    escape it caused her to black out. At least this was what she always had felt
    happened. She could never be sure if it was the pain, or if the being who kept
    her distracted somehow put the suggestion into her mind.


    Angel Whitedove opened her eyes. Her stomach hurt badly. She pulled her legs up
    and held herself in a fetal position. It was starting again. They were back. She
    groaned softly and realized she could not run this time, there was nowhere to
    go. They always found her in the end. It might take them a year or so, but they
    always found her. Now that they had, the sleepless nights, the nightmares, and
    the silent horror was about to start all over again.

    Her mouth felt like the inside of an old shoe, and tasted like one too. A wild
    shiver moved through her. She looked down and saw she was naked. They had not
    bothered to redress her this time. Carefully she sat up and checked out her
    stomach. Just below her navel was a small red puncture wound. It had not just
    been a bad dream then. They had really found her again. Damn!

    Angel reached up to brush long strands of dark hair away from her face, and her
    hand came away with small sprigs of cedar. She pulled the cedar from her hair
    and got up from the bed. She looked around for her robe but could not find it.
    Her tormentors must have decided to keep it for a souvenir. Taking a deep breath
    to clear the cobwebs from her mind she went to her dresser and pulled a clean
    t-shirt and underwear out and put them on. She knew from experience she needed
    to get out her Polaroid camera and take a picture of the small puncture wound on
    her stomach because it would be gone by early afternoon.

    Angel despondently wandered into the kitchen for a plastic bag to put the cedar
    twigs in. She knew they were not really proof but like the puncture wound they
    were the only tangible evidence that the visitors had found her yet again.

    She felt like crying but what good would that do? As a child when she had first
    begun to remember the horrible experiences she would cry for days after being
    taken, her father really the only person able to console her. But her father was
    no longer with her, and there was no one to hold her and tell her everything
    would be ok. Angel made sure of it. She allowed none close to her so no one
    could be touched by the visitors as she had been. She did not want the

    The Polaroid camera positioned, her shirt lifted and the panties lowered she
    took several pictures of the puncture mark on her stomach. The journal lay open
    to a new page with the date written at the top, and the bag of cedar was taped
    to it. There was room for at least one of the Polaroid pictures beneath it. The
    other two pictures along with a few other of the sprigs of cedar would be placed
    in a safety deposit box at her bank along with a second copy of the journal. She
    would deposit the pages with the experience along with them later in the day. If
    there was one thing she had learned in investigating this phenomenon, the
    visitors were not above stealing evidence. She always made sure she had two
    sets, one locked away safely where they hopefully could not get to it.

    Fortunately, they had not tampered with her coffee maker and the required two
    cups was hot and waiting for her just as she had set the timer to do. Standing
    at the counter she looked out the window and what promised to be another sunny
    but cool day. Spring in Oregon could be incredibly fickle, boasting sunshine in
    the morning and black roiling clouds filled with rain by afternoon. Angel did
    not mind though, she loved Oregon. It was worth all the rain to have the
    beautiful green everywhere. The trees, the flowers, the grass; it was all so
    colorful this time of year. I should never have left.

    Angel stood on tiptoe to reach up and grab a mug out of the cupboard above and
    to the left of her sink. She poured herself a mug of caffeine fortification and
    added cream and sugar before she turned and walked to the table to record the
    events of last evening in what she privately called her "tormentor journal." She
    needed to get it all down while it was fresh in her mind, at least what she
    could readily recall. Later she would transcribe her notes into her computer and
    take the printed pages to be added to her typed version of the journal that was
    ensconced in her safety deposit box at her local U.S. Bank. One could never be
    too sure with the visitors.
    Romance that Covers Love's Spectrum
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  2. MSEReads's Avatar
    Reading: Journey to Redemption by Anne Patrick
    Just Finished Reading: The Key by Pauline Baird Jones
    TBR: 365+
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    Jul 2008
    Marianna, Florida

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    My goodness. I really like your writing style. This pulls you in to Angel's experience, fear, helplessness and aloneness. Well done.

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