by Sandie Will
Genre: YA/NA Psychological Thriller/Suspense
Release Date: March 31st 2017
Time is running out for Jeannie, a young girl taken against her will by staff at Deadwater Manor - a psychiatric hospital with an unscrupulous past. Inspired by true events, this is a captivating story where Jeannie shares her heart-wrenching experience while undergoing treatments that will make you cringe.
On a cold, January evening, fourteen-year-old Jeannie Kynde is told that her beloved mother drowned in the murky waters along Florida's Gulf Coast. Her distraught father turns on Jeannie, no longer the caring father she once knew.
Four years later, Jeannie is finally old enough to escape her father's clutches, but he has different plans. He imprisons her at Deadwater Manor, a psychiatric hospital with an unscrupulous past.
Will she be locked away forever? Or can she fight against the nightmare that has now become her world?
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XRJMJBB
Universal ebook link (international): books2read.com/u/me0vgZ
Note from the Author:
Hi everyone! I am a thriller/suspense Indie author. I write primarily in the YA/NA genre. My debut, The Caging at Deadwater Manor, was just released on March 31 and was written for mature young adults (16+) and older. This book has been professionally edited and the cover was done by a professional artist. I strive to provide high-quality books that stay with you - so I hope you'll find it an enjoyable read. The story evolved from experiences my dad had during short periods of his career at psychiatric hospitals. He shared patient routines, treatments, hospital layouts and stories, but the book primarily evolved from a discovery he made in the atticâsomething that unnerved me enough to bring this book to life. Though the story is fiction, I've intertwined much of the information shared by my dad and research I performed while writing this book.
I smile as I think of her, until my concentration is interrupted by footsteps coming down the hallway. I quickly look over to see if itâs my aunt.
Instead, a male attendant greets me. His name badge identifies him as Drake.
âYouâre Jean Kynde?â he inquires.
âFollow me, then.â
I follow him down the hallway to the wooden door I saw earlier and enter. This room is much larger than the reception area with pink walls and white accents. To the left is a glass office; a semi-circle nursesâ station. A couple rows of tables with metal chairs are scattered about, and a steel water fountain is stationed at the other side of the room.
Drake pulls out a chair for me and assures me heâll be right back. As I wait for my aunt, I try to imagine how it would feel to be locked up with a guard on every corner.
I wonder if my aunt feels like a prisoner. Why in the world did she agree to come here?
My attention is soon drawn to a commotion outside the same door I entered. I listen, but all I can hear is some mumbling, perhaps arguing.
Eventually, another man comes through the door. He appears to be older, with gray hair and eyebrows and sagging skin on his neck. As he approaches, I can see the script writing on his lab coat.
Doctor Garrett Wiggins; this is Dadâs friend. Okay, so Iâm in the right spot.
âUh, yes. Iâm here to see my aunt. Have you talked to my dad?â
âYes, heâs been telling me about some issues.â
âYeah, well, I guess my aunt had a nervous breakdown.â
âYes, Lesley Odell. You have her chart there, right?â
He looks at me for a few seconds and then looks away, unable to find words. He pauses. Iâm not sure what is going on, but I donât like the uneasiness Iâm feeling right now. Iâm getting that gut feeling that something is wrong.
Did she die?
He pulls his chair closer to me like a true friend would. In a caring voice, he says softly, âYour aunt is not here.â
I stare at him blankly for a second and then ask, âWhat? What do you mean? Sheâs gone already orâor worse?â The reality of the situation starts to take hold as racing thoughts of never seeing her again start scaring me.
He touches my arm for a second and says, âJeannie, listen to me carefully.â I try to focus more on his mouth, since my difficulty in hearing is worsened by the tall ceiling in the room. âYour aunt was never here.â
The racing thoughts stop. I look at him dead seriously, trying to figure out what the hell heâs telling me.
Is she dead or not?
I look toward the table for a minute, not sure what heâs going to tell me next.
Sheâs dead? Sheâs alive? Sheâs somewhere else? Sheâs a fucking FBI agent? Whatâs going on?
âWhat do you mean? Where is she?â I finally manage.
âI donât really know. Thereâs no record of her here. What I want to concentrate on is you, now. How do you feel about this?â
I frown and mumble, âConfused.â
He nods and says sincerely, âItâs understandable especially with the recent loss of your mom.â At least, I think thatâs what he said.
I watch him, trying to figure out why weâre having this conversation. I donât know how my dad knows this doctor, but his fake sincerity is not calming me. I glance over to the wooden door, and there are now two guards standing in front of them, one of which I recognize as Drake. Another door on the opposite side of the room opens, and two more guards move in.
This definitely doesnât feel right.
âHey, theyâre just here for your protection,â the doctor says. I lean back in my chair, as he moves forward and whispers, âNo worries.â His breath puffs across my hair, leaving me with a gift of strong cigarette stench. I try to lean back more but feel pinned. This guy does not know his boundaries. He starts stroking my arm in what seems like an attempt to comfort me, but it only makes me panic more. I can feel my palms moistening with every word.
âIs it okay if we talk for a while? Iâd like to get to know you a little more, Jeannie. Iâve always heard your dadâs side of things, but the opportunity to hear your side is whatâs important now. Why donât we have you go relax in another room, and then you can come into my office a little later?â
I try hard not to show the panic thatâs now taking over, hiding what I can of my heaving chest. It feels difficult to breathe with the short, shallow breaths that are now uncontrollable.
Iâm going to have a panic attack.
Iâm so screwed.
I look over to the guards, begging them not to force me behind the walls that will separate me from the rest of the world. I frantically search for a way to get myself out of what I know is inevitable, but itâs useless with all the guards.
Iâm going to become the prisoner. Iâm going to become the next rumor throughout the school.
Itâs all part of a calculated plot my dad would be proud of. This is his victoryâa victory that includes my never leaving Deadwater or having a life, even if he wonât be a part of it. As long as he knows where I am, heâll be happy. I close my eyes in disgust, concerned about what Iâm about to endure. I hate the unknown, but this is way beyond what any eighteen-year-old should have to experience.
âJeannie, you still with me?â the doctor asks.
I look up at the cohort who is now starting to tug at my forearm.
âI think we need to get you comfortable.â
I frown between the doctor and the guards. They both come forward to âhelpâ me. Gasping for air, I throw my chair backwards to try the only path of escape I can think of, but theyâre too fast and catch the chair before I hit the ground.
âNo! I am not going anywhere with you! Iâm not a minor and my dad canât institutionalize me without my consent. Let me out of here!â
âWell, Miss Kynde, you just signed all the consents. Thereâs nothing illegal here.â
What starts as a rational protest spirals out of control quickly. Panic sets in. Iâm crying, screaming, and clawing at them. I try to kick their groins, but they predict that move and easily pin my legs to the chair.
I start breathing heavier now. Panic takes over, and Iâm quickly losing control.
âGet the syringe!â orders Doctor Wiggins, pointing to the table next to the water fountain.
Drake holds out one of my arms and lunges backward for the syringe with his other arm, knocking the table over.
Oh, God! Get me out of here!
Drake is grasping for the syringe on the floor, so I take the opportunity to bite his forearm, causing him to bleed and withdraw his clutch. This does nothing but make things worse for me, though. Drake leaps toward me, pinning the back of my head against his stomach muscles. My free arm flails back and forth, as I try to reach something to use to hit him.
Itâs no use.
Frantically, the doctor kicks the syringe toward Drake, and I watch in horror when the needle roughly enters my vein.
Sandie Will is a young adult novelist who lives in Tampa Bay, Florida and works as a manager and geologist by day. She has written two novels and is currently working on her third. Her first novel, The Caging at Deadwater Manor, is a young adult psychological thriller that will be released on March 31, 2017. Her second is a time travel and her third will be another psychological thriller. She has been married to her husband, Charlie, for 30 years and they have two sons. Their home has been blessed by many laughs, hugs and one-too-many beer pong parties with college friends.
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7/18/2017 06:43:36 am
What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?
7/18/2017 07:57:51 am
This sounds like an exciting read! Can't wait to check it out!
7/18/2017 11:45:20 am
Thanks for teling me about this book.
7/18/2017 07:22:02 pm
I love reading books based on true events.
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