The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 11) Watching The Cat
“How long do you two think you’ll be gone?” Marnie winks at Marcus as if asking him to play along with her deception but he merely frowns and replies as he normally would.
“We have three separate shows in different cities with various times slotted for my art to be displayed. I think each one lasts a couple of days.” Marcus says calmly. “So with all the packing and moving and then finally getting things in order to ship back to the states, we could be gone a little over two weeks. We’ll have exact details once we get there.”
“What?” Marnie crinkles up her nose and looks down at her hands as if she is counting on her fingers. “So I’ll have the cat that long as well?” her voice trails off.
“I thought you were okay with watching Smokey.” Lyla says as she walks back into the shop area carrying her cat in one arm, the travel crate in the other. Shocked that Lyla overheard her, Marnie turns around and tries to cover up her true feelings.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 10) Makes Me Feel Odd
“Our flight leaves here at two o’clock and we have a short layover in New York before we board the plane for Spain.” Marcus then raises his voice directing his next comment to Lyla who is now upstairs. “I can tell you right now we are going to have to force ourselves to sleep on the plane. We will need to be alert when we arrive.” He grins as he aims the next statement to Marnie. “The crates will be picked up in an hour but we still need to pack and make sure Lyla’s house is secure.”
“That is unless you prefer to house sit as well.” Lyla yells from the loft above. Smiling, she leans over the rail to look down at her friends for a reaction. “Oh my, no! I’m perfectly fine with bringing the cat to my home while you’re away.” Marnie fiddles with her hair pulling on it, flipping it around, sticking a clip in to hold it in a bun, and then out again as if she just cannot get it in a comfortable spot. Almost in a whisper, she starts talking to Marcus as she continues to fuss with her hair.
“I don’t like being at Lyla’s house much.” Marnie says as she tugs at her hair and clips it up in another twist. Then with one hand near her mouth, she lowers her voice even more. “It makes me feel odd, it’s not a good place and I don’t care if I never step foot in it again.”
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 9) Dramatic Overacting
“I told you the worst was yet to come.” Marcus says in a flat tone. “It’s Marnie.” He points in the direction of the shop entrance just as there is a knock at the door. In a boyish way, he hops off the stool to go let her in. “Good morning, Marnie!” Marcus says in an exuberant style as he unlatches the lock and steps aside allowing her to enter. She squeezes in between the door and crates but in a very tight manner.
“Well, I suppose it is a good morning.” She says in her typical down in the dumps snobbish way. She enters the shop slowly dodging the boxes and crates with her body as she attempts to avoid touching them. It is not that she is trying to take care to avoid dislodging or damaging Marcus’ work. No, Marnie is merely acting out her role as if she is afraid something might rub off on her. Weaving in and out of the grouping, she frowns and mumbles under her breath until she steps out where Lyla is sitting.
“Hey Marnie, how’s it going?” Lyla asks in an upbeat tone. The last thing she wants to do is acknowledge Marnie’s sour actions. For if she does, a long drawn out and dramatic story will surely ensue. “Well, I’ve been better.” Marnie replies huffing and puffing as if she just ran a mile. She looks around for a place to sit then plops her purse on the counter. She is always stylishly dressed, but taking away from this in a very distracting way, she fiddles constantly with her hair.
True to form, she grabs a long curl and starts twisting her finger around it. Standing directly in front of Lyla, she looks at her and then glances at the stool Lyla is sitting on. The next phase of dramatic overacting soon begins as Marnie tips her head and frowns slightly. She will continue with this routine until someone inquires about her demeanor for she fully expects Lyla to give her the stool she is sitting on. Much like a spoiled child, she will keep this game up until she breaks her down. The result will be that she gets her way.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 8) The Worst Part Is Yet To Come
“I think you two would make a cute and artsy couple, Marcus.” Lyla says with a sly grin and a low tone. “You and I will always be best friends, you know that, I know that, and we both deserve to find our soul mates.” She then smiles and taps him on the chest. “But they’ll just have to learn to deal with our friendship.” Looking at Marcus with a serious tone, she grabs his arms with excitement to break the tension.
“We are going to Spain! Can you believe how amazing it is that your art is in such demand? Ahh!” She turns and walks back to the stool at the counter. “I knew you’d make your mark on the world!” Marcus watches Lyla then grins again as he thinks of meeting the very attractive and artistic Destry Boucher in person. Time ticks by while he inspects his crates and tinkers on a few things around the shop.
Lyla is hard at work on her laptop making repetitious ticking sounds with each keystroke. Aside from the occasional yawn or clearing of the throat, no other words are spoken for nearly half an hour. “Okay Marcus, I’ve answered a few inquiries that have come through and I will get the last few photo’s uploaded.” Says Lyla as she breaks the silence. “Have I missed anything?” She looks in the direction of the shop door but cannot see out due to the large crates blocking the view.
“I don’t think so, but the worst part is yet to come.” Replies Marcus as he quickly runs over and joins Lyla at the counter. “Oh yeah, what’s that?” She asks slightly worried that something very important may have slipped past her. Marcus tips his head sideways and starts grinning.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 7) The Art Coordinator
“Everything will be fine, Destry Boucher is taking care of all those arrangements and she seems to be tremendously organized.” Lyla states without hesitation. “She said everything is already on display except for this last shipment and it’s leaving today hours before we are.”
Destry Boucher is slightly younger than Marcus and Lyla but only by a couple of years. She is of Spanish and French decent with thick dark black hair that she keeps twisted up on her head allowing loose curls to cascade down from the top. She was born and raised in France but her work brought her to Madrid and closer to her Maternal Grandmother, Arrosa Valente.
Destry is an art coordinator in Spain and she will be overseeing the entire project for the tour, which leaves Lyla more free time to explore the various cities they will be visiting. From the video conferencing Marcus and Lyla have had with Destry, it is obvious she is very articulate and structured.
“What? You don’t have a comment about Destry?” Lyla asks to Marcus in a teasing manner. She hears him moving around behind the crates like a big rat. “Should I?” He says while hidden in the maze of boxes. “I just thought you’d have something to say about her. You two seem to have a bit of chemistry going on, aren’t you kind of excited to meet her in person?” Lyla grins as she waits for his delayed response.
“Yeah. . . a little.” Marcus pokes his head around a crate to look at Lyla. He then turns trying to conceal his smile. “Oh! I saw that!” She laughs as she gets up from the bar stool to go after him. As she peeks around a tall box, Marcus turns around to look at her. He is adorable with his boyish charm and it is obvious his eyes are smiling as he thinks of Ms. Boucher.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 6) Up To This Point
Working alongside Marcus is now a full-time job for Lyla and she could not be happier. After all, she spends her days with her closest friend. Another benefit is that when Marcus must travel for a show, she is welcome to go along.
Up to this point, all of Marcus’ shows have been in the United States but now he is preparing for the biggest one yet, Madrid Spain. As Lyla takes a sip of her coffee, she notices something extremely interesting on his page.
“Oh wow!” She says aloud and with much excitement. “What?” Marcus questions as he comes down the staircase of the loft. He enters the gallery where he joins Lyla as she sits perched on a tall stool at the sales counter. He watches her face for a reaction to his question and she slowly breaks into a wide smile.
“You’ve had 2125 hits to your site since last night!” She says as she looks at the tracking data. “This means your name is really getting out there for the Madrid show.” She looks at him and smiles. “Marcus Originals is about to set sail in a big way. You ready for all that fame and fortune?” She quizzes eagerly.
“Yeah, well. . . guess I have to be huh?” Marcus says as he slips his hand through his disheveled hair and then smiles nervously. “I’m not going to complain about it, that’s for sure.” He walks over to the stack of packing crates and checks two of the labels. “I hope nothing happens to any of my work during all the setups and shipping.” He then disappears behind one of the big crates.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 5) Missing Recollections
It has been six months since the large destructive tornado tore through Lyla’s home taking Penny’s life with it. Even though all repairs are complete, it just seems different somehow, and she is not able to pinpoint the uneasiness she cannot dismiss.
Maybe it is because she does not recall many of the events that led up to that night or the night of the storm itself. Both Lyla and Marcus suffered injuries during that frightful experience and both have difficulty remembering much from that timeframe.
For being such a vicious storm, it is amazing that there was only one fatality. To this day, Lyla feels obsessed by the vanished memories she cannot seem to evoke. During this span of missing recollections and time, she lost several of her well paying clients. However, one positive outcome of that terrible evening is that Lyla and Marcus decided to team up and work on expanding his client base.
Since she makes her living creating and maintaining websites, Lyla built a beautiful site for Marcus and issued marketing materials to promote his work. They hoped to increase his business and that is exactly what happened. Soon he was receiving more calls and requests than he could manage to keep up with.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 4) This Arrangement
“Good morning,” says Marcus as he leans over the railing from above. His hair is a mess and his face is puffy, it is obvious he just woke up. Lyla looks up at her best friend and smiles. “Good morning to you.” She raises her cup to him. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I was already coming around but once Smokey curled up on my head I decided I probably needed to get moving.” Marcus states sarcastically as he walks out of view. “Oh,” Lyla laughs, “that’s a new one. Smokey is usually a little more subtle than to plant herself on your head.” From above she hears Marcus laugh as he steps over to the coffeepot, he too pours a cup and stirs in creamer.
Lyla and Smokey spend a lot of time at Marcus’ loft. In fact, they practically live there. This arrangement has been in place ever since their friend Penny passed away.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 3) Proceeds Silently
Quietly emerging from the bedroom, Lyla carefully places each step she takes on the wooden floor. Her long creamy white sweater hangs in a loose fashion over dark blue pants and big fluffy slippers. Freshly brushed, her shiny brown hair dangles to one side as she tiptoes out of the room.
Smokey, in her typical loud lumbering way, darts out of the room ahead of her. Each paw step creates a heavy thumping sound on the floor as she runs toward the tiny kitchen. Marcus moans and pulls his thick burgundy blanket up over his head covering his tousled sandy brown hair. He mumbles something unrecognizable and then turns over. Lyla smiles in his direction as Smokey runs to the small kitchen nook and meow’s loudly for her first meal of the day.
“Shhhh, little girl,” Lyla says to her portly cat, “You don’t want to wake Marcus.”
“Meow,” replies Smokey louder than before, for she knows she has the upper hand in this daily routine.
Promptly filling a little crystal bowl with dry food, Lyla quietly sets it down on the floor. As is the usual protocol, Smokey dives in as if she has not eaten in months. The automatic coffeepot clicked on an hour earlier filling the room with the smell of its rich warm contents. Lyla pours herself a cup and quietly stirs in two spoons of creamer.
With mug in hand, she tiptoes over to the narrow spiral staircase and proceeds silently downstairs to the art shops gallery. Setting her cup on the counter, she pulls a bar stool up close, opens her laptop, and begins working. Several minutes later, she hears a creaking sound coming from the loft.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 2) Soft Glow Of Morning
The fluffy gray cat begins to purr as she rubs against Lyla’s arm waking her from the troublesome trance. With a raspy meow, the overstuffed feline continues to nudge at the hand that feeds her, knowing her mistress will soon give in. As soon as Lyla pushes the covers back, Smokey jumps off the bed with a heavy thud and runs to the closed door of the small bedroom.
Golden rays from the rising sun begin to appear on the eastern horizon reaching upward until they fade into a turquoise blue sky. The bare branches of the large aged trees stand quietly still and motionless casting cold gray shadows on the ground. Those dark shades gradually grow shorter as daylight breaks pushing the light forward. Young yellow blooms have emerged on the forsythia shrubs announcing that spring has finally arrived in the small town.
Marcus is sound asleep on the deep green sofa as the soft glow of morning filters in through the skylight of his loft apartment. The beams find their way over the rail to the art gallery below and slowly proceed along the wall as if trying to touch every inch. Many large wooden and cardboard crates are stacked near the front door as if waiting to scamper outside when the delivery truck arrives.
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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 1) Hall Of Smoke
A frightful tension radiates down the obscurity of the smoke filled hallway. Dread is all Lyla can feel as she stands there watching and waiting. With a faint whistling sound, a slight breeze touches her long dark hair ever so softly as it flows past.
She is aware that something has slipped by her but she is not able to move or react to the sensation. In her hand is a lantern made of multicolored glass and it is the only source of light that she has.
As if frozen in place in another time, she does not respond to or recognize her surroundings. The angles of the hall seem distorted and unattached as she tries to see deeper into the haze. What is it that beckons to her and why does she find herself in this ambiguous corridor, over and over again?
With a jerking motion, Lyla awakens as the nightmare suddenly stops, just as it has for the past two months. It is always the same. The hall, the smoke, flickers of colored glass, and the fear that overcomes her. The odd thing is that she does not suffer for herself, her worries and qualms are for someone else, but who?
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The Eyes Of A Fetch ~ Overview
Lyla Harris feels obsessed by the vanished memories she cannot seem to evoke and finds herself disturbed by dreams and visions that do not make sense. While on a trip out of the country, she has a perplexing encounter that sets a spiral of events in motion. As more of her lost recollections begin to reveal themselves, so does a haunting figure that frightens yet intrigues her just the same.
Six months have passed since that confusing and dreadful night as well as the event that nearly took the sight from Crispin Duff. Remarkably, the only physical reminder of the violence is one small scar above his right eye. Not only did he agonize these past months over his injuries but also the loss of the relationship he began to have with Lyla.
With his brow furrowed, he thinks about her and the varied events that took place so many months ago. Most of all, he ponders on how he could have and should have handled matters differently. His eyes are gloomy, shadowed and brooding with no color or expression as he constructs his next strategy.
What is it that Crispin desires? Is revenge on the agenda, or does he have other plans for Lyla as she attempts to piece lost moments of her recent past together. Will she ever be able to recall the missing points in time? If she does, will she find herself terrified by what she discovers? Most of all, what are the mystical and obscure powers that inhabit the The Eyes of A Fetch?
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