Ferret
Author: C.C. Wyatt
Genre: Young Adult
Date Published: July 2016
Book Description:
Pia Wade’s life is a book with torn-out pages, she sees things no one else can, and she has weird dreams. It all started four years ago when she mysteriously vanished in the night. One problem though, she has no memory of the incident whatsoever, yet claims she was kidnapped.
But as Pia embarks on a trip back to where her nightmare began, she wishes all her troubles would—Poof!—disappear. If only her parents would grant a little more breathing room because after all, whatever happened that night, she certainly did not kidnap herself. What Pia doesn’t know is that a new door of craziness will open up and lure her to investigate a strange world--our world--only she seems to live in. That is until a certain young man by the name of Cameron Jacks enters her life.
Will Pia uncover the mystery of four-long years?
The clock is ticking!
Date Published: July 2016
Book Description:
Pia Wade’s life is a book with torn-out pages, she sees things no one else can, and she has weird dreams. It all started four years ago when she mysteriously vanished in the night. One problem though, she has no memory of the incident whatsoever, yet claims she was kidnapped.
But as Pia embarks on a trip back to where her nightmare began, she wishes all her troubles would—Poof!—disappear. If only her parents would grant a little more breathing room because after all, whatever happened that night, she certainly did not kidnap herself. What Pia doesn’t know is that a new door of craziness will open up and lure her to investigate a strange world--our world--only she seems to live in. That is until a certain young man by the name of Cameron Jacks enters her life.
Will Pia uncover the mystery of four-long years?
The clock is ticking!
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EXCERPT
Chapter One
No Turning Back
In theory, there’s only one day that comes and goes in precise intervals, that’s unaware of itself and its unique charm. We rise accordingly and go about our daily routine, and near time for it to make its exit, we settle down in the same position as we started. And when the day rolls around again, we repeat. Almost mechanically. As if we were spellbound by the cycle of day and not know it. As if, when change comes along and snaps its fingers, the spell’s broken. And it’s a rude awakening…sometimes.
This day especially was like that. And it didn’t matter that it had been four years and three months, two weeks and a day in the making, and should go down in history as Pia’s day of dread, though I had the guts to face it somehow, one precarious step after another, as I embarked on a trip moments away from takeoff. No. What mattered was the unpredictable path I was on and how it would end about a week from now.
With my backpack hanging off my shoulder and a mild breeze playing in my hair, I led the way to the plane. I couldn’t believe that I was actually going through with this. But not only that, I had a weird feeling I just couldn’t shake. But when you find yourself returning to a dark part of your past—to a place you thought you would never see again because your last experience there resembled episodes of the Twilight Zone, this place much like home to you too—then how should you feel?
I drew in a deep breath, and then stole a few moments to make a wish. A mere request, because I believed with all my heart that anything was possible—and because I had the experience to back it up. So I closed my eyes and wished this moment away forever; wished away the nightmare and all memory of it forever times two. Then…one, two…I counted to five for good measure. And then I heard it! Something magical. A whisper. And right then I knew. Knew that my “wish come true” would have been exactly that had the little voice only said, “Your wish is my command.”
But it disappointed me instead. Is that what you really want…never know what happened during the most critical hours of your life?
Of course granting my wish would have served me just fine, I thought with pooched lips. But I knew all too well. Knew that deep down I would give just about anything to know what really happened that night at the Florida beach house, where I mysteriously vanished in my sleep. And if it took going back to find out, ultimately proving my theory of what happened, then so be it. After four long years of not knowing anything, it would mean the world to me. Not to mention that it would probably be the greatest solved mystery of all times.
I arrived at the plane looking back at my parents coming up behind me. I settled the backpack on the ground, attempting to stretch precious moments I had left, by any means possible, before boarding the plane. I looked up as one flew over me, closed my eyes, and let my mind wander up to the universe. Suddenly I was amazed that we were all right here, right where we were supposed to be…at a point of no return. Or was I just plain crazy about all this? Some people, however, wouldn’t have a problem thinking so.
Suddenly, I felt a nudge on my back. In an instant I turned, thinking someone had snuck up on me but…no one was there. I frowned. That was creepy. I lifted my backpack and contemplated that some more. I could’ve sworn…it couldn’t have been the wind hitting me like that in just that spot.
“Pia, is everything okay?” Dad asked as he and Mom approached.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, still in wonder. Maybe it was the hands of the universe…had to be, urging me to get moving. So I boarded the plane convinced that that was it.
Mom and Dad filed in behind me. And in moments, the twin-engine plane roared to life.
“All set?” Dad’s vibrant tenor reigned over the humming engines. Wearing dark shades and a ready-to-go smile, he looked back at me, as did Mom, her hazel eyes gleaming. Through them I pretended to read her mind. Pia, if you’re not ready, it’s not too late to cancel this trip.
I imagined her reading mine. But Mom, it’s spring break, and we’re all set to go. And what about the pilot’s convention? The house? Dad could sell it for real next time. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.
Mom was the reason Dad hadn’t sold the house already. She was right, though: The house had deep, sentimental value, had been part of the family for far too long to get rid of. Dad had lost sight of that and probably would’ve regretted selling it. And how could either of us blame the house? It hadn’t whisked me away in the middle of the night, stolen sixteen hours of my memory, and set my mind to see creepy things. It hadn’t…changed my life forever.
We just needed to go back…to heal and…and because destiny was calling and because…just because.
I gazed out the window. Was I really out of my mind? Suddenly my fingers were tap-dancing on my lap. I stared at them for a moment then curled them into a tight fist. If I was a real nutcase, I supposed I would soon find out.
The plane taxied into position for takeoff. Upon clearance, it became a straight line of roaring thunder up the runway. Up, up the plane climbed over Houston. My eyes shut tight, hands gripping the armrests as anxiety grew like fever through my body.
No turning back.
We were on our way.
No turning back.
No Turning Back
In theory, there’s only one day that comes and goes in precise intervals, that’s unaware of itself and its unique charm. We rise accordingly and go about our daily routine, and near time for it to make its exit, we settle down in the same position as we started. And when the day rolls around again, we repeat. Almost mechanically. As if we were spellbound by the cycle of day and not know it. As if, when change comes along and snaps its fingers, the spell’s broken. And it’s a rude awakening…sometimes.
This day especially was like that. And it didn’t matter that it had been four years and three months, two weeks and a day in the making, and should go down in history as Pia’s day of dread, though I had the guts to face it somehow, one precarious step after another, as I embarked on a trip moments away from takeoff. No. What mattered was the unpredictable path I was on and how it would end about a week from now.
With my backpack hanging off my shoulder and a mild breeze playing in my hair, I led the way to the plane. I couldn’t believe that I was actually going through with this. But not only that, I had a weird feeling I just couldn’t shake. But when you find yourself returning to a dark part of your past—to a place you thought you would never see again because your last experience there resembled episodes of the Twilight Zone, this place much like home to you too—then how should you feel?
I drew in a deep breath, and then stole a few moments to make a wish. A mere request, because I believed with all my heart that anything was possible—and because I had the experience to back it up. So I closed my eyes and wished this moment away forever; wished away the nightmare and all memory of it forever times two. Then…one, two…I counted to five for good measure. And then I heard it! Something magical. A whisper. And right then I knew. Knew that my “wish come true” would have been exactly that had the little voice only said, “Your wish is my command.”
But it disappointed me instead. Is that what you really want…never know what happened during the most critical hours of your life?
Of course granting my wish would have served me just fine, I thought with pooched lips. But I knew all too well. Knew that deep down I would give just about anything to know what really happened that night at the Florida beach house, where I mysteriously vanished in my sleep. And if it took going back to find out, ultimately proving my theory of what happened, then so be it. After four long years of not knowing anything, it would mean the world to me. Not to mention that it would probably be the greatest solved mystery of all times.
I arrived at the plane looking back at my parents coming up behind me. I settled the backpack on the ground, attempting to stretch precious moments I had left, by any means possible, before boarding the plane. I looked up as one flew over me, closed my eyes, and let my mind wander up to the universe. Suddenly I was amazed that we were all right here, right where we were supposed to be…at a point of no return. Or was I just plain crazy about all this? Some people, however, wouldn’t have a problem thinking so.
Suddenly, I felt a nudge on my back. In an instant I turned, thinking someone had snuck up on me but…no one was there. I frowned. That was creepy. I lifted my backpack and contemplated that some more. I could’ve sworn…it couldn’t have been the wind hitting me like that in just that spot.
“Pia, is everything okay?” Dad asked as he and Mom approached.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied, still in wonder. Maybe it was the hands of the universe…had to be, urging me to get moving. So I boarded the plane convinced that that was it.
Mom and Dad filed in behind me. And in moments, the twin-engine plane roared to life.
“All set?” Dad’s vibrant tenor reigned over the humming engines. Wearing dark shades and a ready-to-go smile, he looked back at me, as did Mom, her hazel eyes gleaming. Through them I pretended to read her mind. Pia, if you’re not ready, it’s not too late to cancel this trip.
I imagined her reading mine. But Mom, it’s spring break, and we’re all set to go. And what about the pilot’s convention? The house? Dad could sell it for real next time. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.
Mom was the reason Dad hadn’t sold the house already. She was right, though: The house had deep, sentimental value, had been part of the family for far too long to get rid of. Dad had lost sight of that and probably would’ve regretted selling it. And how could either of us blame the house? It hadn’t whisked me away in the middle of the night, stolen sixteen hours of my memory, and set my mind to see creepy things. It hadn’t…changed my life forever.
We just needed to go back…to heal and…and because destiny was calling and because…just because.
I gazed out the window. Was I really out of my mind? Suddenly my fingers were tap-dancing on my lap. I stared at them for a moment then curled them into a tight fist. If I was a real nutcase, I supposed I would soon find out.
The plane taxied into position for takeoff. Upon clearance, it became a straight line of roaring thunder up the runway. Up, up the plane climbed over Houston. My eyes shut tight, hands gripping the armrests as anxiety grew like fever through my body.
No turning back.
We were on our way.
No turning back.
C.C. Wyatt is new to the young adult arena. Her debut novel, Ferret, has the right kind of ingredients that young readers and adults alike will hunger for more. She is a consultant, have a degree in business, but her role as a writer resonates who she is.
As to writing, she is meticulous when it comes to stringing words together which are specifically prescribed to entertain in a very unique way. Performing magic on paper is what she calls it. And oftentimes she finds a goldmine in movies, music, and of course books to help in performing such magic.
Unlike most authors, her joy of reading came later in life. When it did, it was as if she'd been placed under a spell to devour all kinds of books. And then the images started coming. But it wasn't until the images started to go wild that she finally realized that her desire to read had evolved into something else. At first she didn't know what to do with the fussy images; she just wanted them to go away so that she could get some sleep. But it didn't take long to realize it was time to pick up a pen.
As to writing, she is meticulous when it comes to stringing words together which are specifically prescribed to entertain in a very unique way. Performing magic on paper is what she calls it. And oftentimes she finds a goldmine in movies, music, and of course books to help in performing such magic.
Unlike most authors, her joy of reading came later in life. When it did, it was as if she'd been placed under a spell to devour all kinds of books. And then the images started coming. But it wasn't until the images started to go wild that she finally realized that her desire to read had evolved into something else. At first she didn't know what to do with the fussy images; she just wanted them to go away so that she could get some sleep. But it didn't take long to realize it was time to pick up a pen.
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