About This Book
Seventeen-year-old Shadow had shivered at her first glimpse of the mist-enshrouded San Francisco mansion that was her new home. Even more chilling was the icy welcome of her relatives. She found it strange that her uncle wouldn't let her out of the house without an escort. And it was stranger still that her bedroom was locked every night . . .
Then her maid fell ill from wine intended for her, and Shadow realized a trap was closing in around her. The one man she trusted didn't believe her suspicions. And as the salty air grew heavy with danger and the wailing fog horns inspired dread in her heart, Shadow knew she had to escape - or remain forever a prisoner of Shadow Mansion.
SHADOW OF DEATH
The prick of a needle woke me. Lamps were lit, making the man above me waver in shadows when he straightened with an empty syringe in his hand.
"Ah, you're awake, Miss St. George," he said smoothly, "I've given you something to help you rest easy."
It was Dr. Dijon, and there were matters I wished to discuss with him. "How is Carlie? What..." I began, but the room and the doctor began to circle around my head. I struggled frantically to remain conscious, but darkness rolled over me like a giant wave.
Grotesque shapes wavered in a menacing circle from which there was no escape. My feet...my feet were still there, but they would only move with difficultly, I ran in an exaggerated slow motion toward an opening in the circle. I tried to scream, but had no voice, I was tired, so very tired.
I knew that I had to fight. I couldn't give in to the overwhelming desire to sink into unconsciousness. With a monumental effort, I struggled to sit up in my bed.
I reached out, clawing desperately at the sheets. But just as I felt the cold floor beneath my bare feet, the dark shadow of Dr. Dijon loomed over me once more, and I knew that I was lost...
