A FOREST OF EYES

“I saw what you did, I know who you are, I know what you did, I know who you are, I saw you, I know you, I know what you did…”

Archive for the tag “novel”

FREE Give Away

ISBN 978-0-620-58403-6

ISBN 978-0-620-58403-6

My son, Kyle gave me the idea for this book. He was a loving, caring person who would have liked the idea of giving his Mom’s book away to some random strangers.

So in celebration of his Birthday, which is today. I will randomly select ten people from those who have liked the page ‘A Forest of Eyes’ on Facebook or have liked the ‘A Forest of Eyes’ blog, here on WordPress. These people will get a free copy of  A FOREST OF EYES© e-book.

The selection will take place on Wednesday 16 October 2013 and the names will appear on this page.

(Click on the RED links below to go to these pages if you haven’t already liked them).

Don't forget to like the page.

Don’t forget to like the page.

https://forestofeyes.wordpress.com/2013/09/16/a-forest-of-eyes/

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A FOREST OF EYES© is an e-Book

MORE BOOKS BY DENI HANKIN CAN BE FOUND AT:
https://denisehankinbooks.wordpress.com/

“RIP. Emily Greene”.

ISBN  978-0-620-58403-6

ISBN 978-0-620-58403-6

The wall of expression, an exercise in free art for my students, lay tumbled and broken at my feet. The paintings, which were supposed to be of a personal nature, un-signed and unseen by anyone else, now lay splayed all over the room making me feel like an intruder.

When I had managed to clean up the mêlée of art materials, I got down on my hands and knees and set about returning paintings to boxes and reconstructing the wall, replacing any boxes that had been splattered with colour. I felt like a criminal covering up my crime.

As I was almost finished, one of the paintings caught my eye. A bright splash of green, brown and blue, it was a painting of a forest clearing. I put down the box and crawled over to take a closer look. The detail was amazing and I found it hard to believe that one of my children had painted it. Each tree was the same, the bark painted in stark detail and every single leaf contained a perfect blue eye. A forest of eyes stared out at me.

At the side of the painting, next to a fallen tree and a strangely shaped rock was a single, small tombstone bearing the words “RIP. Emily Greene”. My mind immediately ran through the names of the children I had taught art to, but I could not recall anyone named Greene and yet the name was oddly familiar and disturbing.

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