About my ghost story, Isabelle's Diary - My story takes place in the Welsh town, Llandridod Wells; we know, of course, that Wales is a mysterious place. Here is how my story begins. Sally is in a cafe.

 "Sally lowered her coffee cup and stared at the oddly dressed young woman seated at a table by the window. When had she entered the cafe?

Intrigued by her unusual appearance, sally studied the stranger more closely.. Her braided dark hair was coiled neatly on top of her head. The sleeves of her elegant black sil jacket were turned back at the wrist revealing a lilac silk lining the tightly buttoned cuffs of a snowy white blouse. Her black silk skirt of some lighter silk, fell in graceful folds to the floor. Well polished boots peeped from beneath the softly draped fabric

She removed a book bound in maroon leather from a black  silk kpurse and opened it. Curiosity got the better of Sally and she craned her neck for a better look. The gold edged pages were hand written in black ink. Must be a diary.

Tears trickled down the girl's pale cheeks as she slowly turned the pages. Her hands trembled and her grief-stricken sighs tugged at Sally's heart. Should she try to comfort her her? Offer motherly help? Without warning the stranger's manner changed. She returned the book to her purse, closed the gold clasp and rose to her feet. Smiling slightly, she looked directly at Sally and for endless seconds her steady, dark-eyed gaze held Sally captive.

"Here's your check, miss. Care for more coffee?"

Startled by the waitress's voice, Sally bumped the table and tipped her cup spilling the dregs.

"Sorry, didn't mean tot give you a scare." The waitress cleared away the cup saucer and wiped the table.

"No more coffee, thanks. " Sally reached for her shoulder bag hanging on the back of the chair, squirrreled inside its jumbled contents for her wallet-t and for the umpteenth time promised to organize it. She counted out the unfamiliar English coins to pay the bill. When she looked up the stranger had disappeared.

"Do you know the young woman who just left?" Sally asked.

"Pardon. What young woman?"

"She sat at that corner table by the window." Sally stood and slung her back over her shoulder.

"No one's occupied that table all morning. I reserve it for my regulars."

"Of course, she was there, dressed in black and crying over a diary."

The waitress frowned and peered over glasses. "You are mistaken, miss," and turned to greet an elderly couple at the door. "There's late you are. I've some fresh-baked currant scones to go with  your coffee."

"This is ridiculous. I saw her." Sally pointed to the table. Why was the waitress being so dense?

"Miss, I have no idea what you're talking about. Please let me get on with my work."

"But she ..."

"There's been no one at that table all morning."

Rudely dismissed, Sally gave up, stepped outside and caught sight of the black clad girl hurrying up the street. "Oh no, you don't," Sally muttered and sprinted after her..

Dodging shoppers, mothers pushing babies in strollers, side stepping around small children on tricycles Sally was only a few feet behind the girl as she disappeared around a corner at the end of the street. Seconds later Sally caught up and skidded to a stop. The girl had vanished.

Where? How?

And that  is how Isabelle's Diary begins.  I would type out more but my fingers are giving me hell.  Better for you to buy my book and download it to your e-reader. Order from my publisher Ellora's Cave.com or from Amazon.com, Amazon.ca or Amazon.UK  I promise you a good read with many twists and turns as the plot thickens.

Anita
www.anitabirt.com