Whispering Graves (Banshee Series)

A deadly whisper . . .Reeling from the terrors at Fort Wayward, all Benton wants to do is enjoy some peace with his new companion, Nicole. But everything changes in one horrific night with a single, unworldly whisper.A malicious force now prowls the town unlike anything Benton has ever encountered. It remains hidden in broad daylight. It moves without making a sound. It kills by simply whispering its victim’s name.Benton’s world unravels once again. He discovers that not only can this monster hunt Benton in reality, but also in his dreams. Severed from his ability to see through the eyes of a killer, Benton is unable to discover who’s next to die. But there’s no doubt that the hunt is on.The duo is determined to save the residents of Fort Wayward. But they struggle to find a way to stop the demon. Time is running out.It won’t be long before the demon discovers Benton’s name. And whispers him straight to his grave.

From the Inside Flap

"Nicole!" "I'm right in front of you," her disembodied voice replied. "I thought you said you could see." "You're in the flames," he snapped. "Really?" She must have caught sight of the glare he sent her because her next words weren't nearly as excited. "You really can't see me? It's okay, it's not real. It doesn't hurt." The sincerity in her voice couldn't compete with the flames that rose as silent pillars reaching the ceiling, or the way the heat burned his eyes and blistered his lungs with every breath. Her hand emerged from the hellish blaze and she coaxed him to take it. Pushing deeper into the agonizing heat of the wall, he shook his head rapidly. "Okay," she said softly. "Stay right there. I'll take some photographs of this pattern and we'll go." "Nicole." "I'm okay," she replied instantly. "Just hang tight." Balling his fists, he stood as much against the wall as his skin could stand. He bit the inside of his cheeks and tried to endure. The flames never weakened and his head was spinning as the heat continued to consume him. His mouth became a dry pit. His heart pounded until he felt each beat hammering against his spine. "Nicole!" he croaked as his lips began to crack. "Almost done," she called back, her tone matching his haste but lacking his need. An iron grip suddenly crushed into his stomach, creating an icy hold around his intestines and twisting him up until he released an anguished cry. "We need to go," he nearly begged through his pain as the stench of rot filled the space. "Now!" She came crashing through the flames, all reassuring smiles and the wave of a phone. She hadn't fully left the flames behind before a shadow blackened the fire just beyond her shoulder. A split second later, the horseman rose up behind her, the spinal whip thrashing as it narrowed the distance between them. He bellowed as he darted forward. Seeing his expression, she whirled around, trying to spot what he was looking at. But she couldn't see the figure charging towards her. It grabbed her shoulder. Wrenched her back. Her feet kicked up as she was yanked once more into the inferno. Benton latched on to her wrist but couldn't stand against the pull. His feet sunk into the mud as he was towed towards the flames. Agony rushed through him as the flames licked across Benton's skin and welled against his palm. He could feel the blisters forming as he hurled himself back. His back slammed against the wall and his knees buckled in. The scent of burning flesh polluted his nostrils as he writhed, gripping his own wrist until the bone felt like it was about to break. The pain was nothing compared to the sensation of his flesh blistering. The horrific sound of the horseman's voice cut through all of the pain raging within his body. The ghastly, disembodied voice ripped and curled around the first syllables of Nicole's name. Benton screamed.

About the Author

Growing up in the endless summer of Australia, Sara Clancy was always fascinated with the macabre. It gave her an opportunity to satisfy her cravings for all things spooky and strange, and indulge in a world of mystery. Currently living near a beach she never visits, she enjoys writing horror, spending most of her pay checks on books, and devotes a great deal of time and energy to fictional characters. She also enjoys talking through movies, but understands that's a private indulgence.

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