The souls of lost lake, p.35
The Souls of Lost Lake, page 35
Hope fluttered across Noah’s face. “She is?”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Men can be so dumb.” She spun to march away, but Noah reached out and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Where are you going?”
“Dunno.” And she didn’t. She’d only had thoughts to set Noah to rights, but after she’d made her proclamation that he needed to go back home, back east, a huge part of her went into a panic. She’d no right to him. He’d no right to her. They were as different as a wagon was to an automobile. Redneck to a city boy. Heathen to a believer. Well, she believed, she just wasn’t a super-educated churchgoer. She’d told that to Jesus, though, and she swore He smiled at her from the painting. Seemed like someone had to believe to belong, and if you did, it didn’t matter where you went, you just . . . belonged.
“Come with me,” Noah stated boldly.
Ava’s heart flipped. Maybe. She wasn’t sure if a heart could flip.
Noah stepped closer. Dang those eyes!
“Let’s take all your things—what little you have—like that doll, and we’ll take it back to your old place and put it back where we found it. Like a burial. We’ll bury your family as they should have been, at least in spirit. And then we’ll just go.”
“Go where?” He was toyin’ with her hair, and his fingers brushed her neck, and she knew she could be as ugly as a bug’s ear, but the way he was looking at her, she might as well just melt all over into a beautiful puddle of princess mush.
“Home.” Noah didn’t smile. He barely breathed. He just . . . smoldered.
“I’ll have to think about it,” Ava replied. He couldn’t just tell her what she was goin’ to do. She’d spent too much time on her own—
He kissed her. Gentle-like. The kind of kiss where she could taste just a little bit of him, and it was sweet with a bit of spice just waiting to happen.
When he pulled away, Ava cleared her throat. “All right then, I guess I’ve thought about it.”
“Ready to go home?” Noah held out his hand.
It only took Ava a second to take hold of it. Home, a word she could make fresh memories on. Leave Tempter’s Creek behind. Over time, no one here would ever remember her, or the Coonses, or Noah Pritchard the preacher. Over time, it would just be a lake, lost in the woods, hiding the souls of those who’d made Ava Coons who she was. Just Ava Coons. And she was all right with bein’ Ava Coons.
Questions for Discussion
Why do you think the author chose The Souls of Lost Lake as the novel’s title?
Briefly tell about a camping experience or an experience in the woods during which you were afraid. Then share a camping experience that was a great adventure for you.
If you were to uncover the ruins of an old cabin, what vintage item would you find spooky to discover with your name scrawled on it? Why that particular item?
Why was Ava reluctant to trust Noah and others with her fragmented memories?
When Wren joins the search for Jasmine, what do you think, besides a desire to help, might have driven Wren?
Both Ava and Wren have suppressed memories that affect how they interact with others. What movies or television shows can you recall that depicted a character suppressing memories? How did those past events impact the character?
In what ways do you relate to how Wren grieved over the passing of her mother figure, Patty?
How does faith and hope in eternity influence how you grieve or how you have seen others grieve?
Acknowledgments
All campfire ghost stories deserve to be told around smoldering coals. Bringing that element into Noah’s eyes was about the best I could do, but I hope that the tale of Ava Coons revives in all of you some remembrance of childhood days, marshmallows, and ghost stories.
This book lands square in the lap of Cap’n Hook, the master of campfire tales and stories. And for a guy who doesn’t do fiction, I’d say he did pretty well inspiring this novel. He is really the Markham men in this book—he did discover a lost lake, he did report it to the DNR, he did first tell me a somewhat different tale that soon became the murderous rampage of Ava Coons and Lost Lake. Other than that, it’s all tales and pure fiction—or is it?
Just remember, the next time you’re cuddling around a campfire, the crickets singing in the background, the woods casting their long shadows over the earth, that Ava Coons still roams the woods. Some say she’s just trying to help you find your way home, but others still talk about the sounds they hear, long after the fire has dulled and the campers are almost asleep in their tents. A sound not unlike a logger’s ax hurtling through the air, before it descends on yet another of Ava Coons’s unwitting victims . . .
Jaime Jo Wright is a winner of the Christy, Daphne du Maurier, and INSPY Awards and is a Carol Award finalist. She’s also the Publishers Weekly and ECPA bestselling author of three novellas. Jaime lives in Wisconsin with her cat named Foo; her husband, Cap’n Hook; and their littles, Peter Pan and CoCo.
Visit her at jaimewrightbooks.com.
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Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Jaime Jo Wright
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Campfire Tales
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Questions for Discussion
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
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Jaime Jo Wright, The Souls of Lost Lake
