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The Endarkening
The Endarkening
The Endarkening
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The Endarkening

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Art is her refuge, her passion—and her hell.

 

American art student Evie Williams is studying abroad in Edinburgh and having the time of her life—especially when she falls hard for Thomas MacBean, a sexy art dealer with a Highlander's brogue. But as Thomas and Evie's romance heats up, so does Evie's fascination with a special exhibit of dark art at a local gallery. Normally frightened by sinister subjects, sensitive Evie finds herself entranced by one painting in particular, and soon, can't pull herself away. 

 

Who, or what, has she really encountered?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 27, 2017
ISBN9781540141842
The Endarkening
Author

J.T. Ellison

J.T. Ellison is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than 25 novels, and the EMMY(R) award winning co-host of the literary show A WORD ON WORDS. With millions of books in print, her work has won critical acclaim, prestigious awards, and has been published in 28 countries. She lives in Nashville with her husband and twin kittens.

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    Book preview

    The Endarkening - J.T. Ellison

    The Endarkening

    THE ENDARKENING

    J.T. ELLISON

    Two Tales Press

    ALSO BY J.T. ELLISON

    Standalone Suspense Novels

    It’s One of Us

    Her Dark Lies

    Good Girls Lie

    Tear Me Apart

    Lie to Me

    No One Knows

    Lt. Taylor Jackson Series

    The Wolves Come at Night

    Whiteout

    Field of Graves

    Where All the Dead Lie

    So Close to the Hand of Death

    The Immortals

    The Cold Room

    Judas Kiss

    14

    All the Pretty Girls

    Dr. Samantha Owens Series

    What Lies Behind

    When Shadows Fall

    Edge of Black

    A Deeper Darkness

    A Brit in the FBI Series,

    Cowritten with Catherine Coulter

    The Sixth Day

    The Devil’s Triangle

    The End Game

    The Lost Key

    The Final Cut

    The Endarkening

    © 2017 © 2022 by J.T. Ellison

    ISBN: 978-1-948967-41-9

    Cover design © The Killion Group, Inc.

    All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    For more, visit Two Tales Press.

    CONTENTS

    THE ENDARKENING

    Author’s Note

    What’s Next?

    The Wolves Come At Night Sneak Peek

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    About J.T. Ellison

    About Two Tales Press

    THE ENDARKENING

    EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND

    The missing poster was disconcerting. Evie saw it every day, twice a day, when she left for work and when she came home. It didn’t matter what time it was, how drunk she was or wasn’t—rain or shine, happy or sad, it was there, lurking, as if Brigit Wallace had stuck her own face to the pole with some sort of enchantment.

    The poster had been there for a year. A year of seeing the lost girl’s face staring at her—the large center shot abrupt and forward, eyes straight ahead, as if she could see right through you—and the two smaller candids, one with her head thrown back laughing, another a profile shot from a fancy dress party. She was dressed as an angel. Evie thought that appropriate, considering.

    The truth of the situation: Brigit Wallace was so similar to Evie Williams that it was almost as if she saw herself hanging there every day, captured in time, never changing, never aging, never found. Perhaps that’s what drew her to the poster in the first place. (Maybe it was the hashtag. Evie couldn’t imagine having her own hashtag.) Sections of it had faded, but the relevant information was readily apparent.

    Those details had long rubbed away. The white paper had aged to yellow, the edges were tattered, a large hole was ripped in the middle of the description of Brigit’s looks.

    She is…

    What was Brigit? What little detail lived in that blank space? Was it the one clue that would lead to her discovery?

    Evie might have those details written down somewhere; when she first saw the poster, she’d followed the case religiously, even went online to the missing people charity and read more about the girl in the chatrooms.

    But it had been nearly a year now, and it was clear to everyone Brigit Wallace wasn’t coming home. Even the hashtag was no longer being used. No one was actively looking for or asking about her anymore.

    Which led to now. Every day, twice a day, Evie felt guilty when she saw the poster. She should have done more. She should do more. She hadn’t known Brigit Wallace, but it could just as easily have been Evie’s face hanging on that pole. Evie went for drinks at the Glasshouse sometimes. It was a cool place. Artsy. Evie liked art. Couldn’t draw a lick, but liked looking at it.

    That’s what had brought her to Edinburgh in the first place. An art history degree at the University of Edinburgh. She was a Nashville girl, brought up on Hatch show prints and the occasional exhibit at the Frist. There was art in Nashville, but nothing that compared to Edinburgh and its fantastic historical programs.

    She really liked her life right now. School was good. She had a lovely group of friends who teased her when she used their words in place of her own. Brolly, boot, hen party, all sounded silly and quaint out of Evie’s mouth. She’d even developed the tiniest bit of a Scottish accent. It blended so nicely with her gentle southern drawl.

    Yes, she was happy here. All the time, happy. Except for the two five-minute periods, twice a day, when she stood by the poster, waiting for or getting off the bus, thinking, as she always did, of Brigit.

    For the longest time, people whispered Brigit had been taken by a serial killer, and Evie, utterly freaked out by this rumor, hadn’t gone for drinks with anyone for a few weeks. Overdoing it much, Eves? her friends teased. Think you’ll be next?

    She could be. Anyone could be. Think about it. At the time Brigit went missing, Evie lived alone. She could be eaten by her cat and no one would know unless they came round to check on her.

    Finally, realizing she was being silly, she arranged for a flatmate, the incessant fear left her, and she started going out again. Time passed. The elements ripped holes in Brigit Wallace’s description. Life became normal again. Evie’s original level of concern seemed slightly hysterical.

    Now, when her friends suggested drinkies, or an evening at an art exhibition, she was always the first to RSVP. She had plans this very evening for just such an event.

    They were in the first few days of the Fringe, three weeks of high art in Edinburgh, so there were tons of new exhibitions and installments for Evie and her friends to attend. The exhibit in question was at the Dovecot. Something about dark art from Scotland’s past.

    The party would start in an hour. Evie had suggested

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