Donna Toot Merritt

The Bird That Sang at Midnight Donna Toot Merritt

Carra shivered in the predawn light as the dampness seeped into her very bones. The incoming tide pounded the beach and threw sprays of foaming water high into the air. It had been several months since her life had begun to get crazy. There were the dreams and the strange feelings that came over her at unexpected times. Then there were the unfamiliar sounds and smells which would surround her in sleep and remain with her when she awoke. She could find no reason for this. Suddenly it was as though she had just been transported back in time. But where? As she pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the main entrance to the park, she thought about the questions that had been nagging her for weeks. What is this strange spell that seems to have come over me? Why does this place, here on this beach, seem to be at the heart of it? She knew the man who occupied her daydream, the man with the olive skin and beautiful golden eyes, was the very same man she had just left sitting on the beach-and she also knew there was one constant, threading its way through the mysterious happenings in her life: The Bird That Sang at Midnight...