I hope you feel the same way as you begin the Sin Series with book one, RED SIN, including where it all began on the “WHITE RIBBON.”

~Aleatha

1. Julia

Julia

My knuckles blanched on the steering wheel as I pumped the brakes of my rental car. Even though I’d been told—more than once—that automatic brakes didn’t require pumping, I couldn’t help myself. The action calmed my nerves, giving me the illusion that I had an ounce of control as the tires slid and scooted upon the ice-covered road and large snowflakes the size of oranges fell from the sky.

With the sheer quantity of snowflakes hitting the windshield, I knew any sense of control I thought I possessed was nothing more than a figment of my imagination. If circumstances were different, I could relax and see the beauty around me. If instead of driving alone to an unknown future, I was sipping hot chocolate next to a roaring fire with friends and family, I might be able to appreciate that I had somehow managed to enter a giant snow globe and that whole world had just been given a strong shake.

My attention went back and forth between what I believed was the road before me and my GPS. The directional system had taken me on what it considered the best route. According to the screen, I was still on the pavement; thank God the GPS could differentiate because from my viewpoint, everything between the endless borders of tall pine trees was nothing more than a white ribbon.

Though I continued forward, my estimated time of arrival continued to grow later and later. That was in no doubt due to my decreased speed. Between the snow-and-ice-covered surface, the lack of defined road, and increased blizzard conditions including gusty wind, it seemed as if instead of driving, the car was crawling forward. The speedometer varied between fifteen and a whopping twenty-five miles per hour.

When I’d left Chicago this morning, the forecast had been clear. The weathercaster said that snow wasn’t supposed to arrive until late tomorrow. With only a seven-hour drive, my plan was to arrive at the hotel in Ashland, Wisconsin, before nightfall, spend a few days, and get a feel for the city. With fewer than ten thousand people, it would be drastically different from what I was used to in Chicago.

Different—that in a nutshell was exactly why I applied for this job.

“Good plan, Julia,” I said aloud to myself.

Maybe after hours of driving north from Chicago, I was hungry to hear a human voice, one not singing or on a podcast. Or perhaps, I was too exasperated with my situation to keep quiet any longer.

“Did you ever wonder why this job was available? It’s because whomever this client is could be a psycho and on top of that, it’s located in the middle of nowhere.”

Sadly, nowhere was exactly what I’d sought.