{"product_id":"hiding-in-the-shadows-isbn-9780553576924","title":"Hiding in the Shadows","description":"Terror waits just out of sight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eHiding In The Shadows\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAccident victim Faith Parker has done what her doctors feared she never would: awakened from the coma that held her prisoner for weeks. But she has no memory of the crash that nearly killed her—or the life that led up to it. Nor does she remember journalist Dinah Leighton, the steadfast friend who visited her in the hospital...until she disappeared without a trace. Now as Faith begins to regain her strength, she's shocked by intimate dreams of a man she doesn't recognize and tortured by visions of violence that feel painfully real. Something inexplicable ties her lost memories to Dinah's chilling fate. But even as Faith tries to understand the connection and reach out to save Dinah, death is stalking both women. And one of them will not escape its lethal grasp.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFBI agent Noah Bishop has a rare gift for seeing what others do not, a gift that helps him solve the most puzzling cases. Now, read more of his electrifying adventures in two stand-alone tales of psychic suspense.\"Kay Hooper keeps me guessing until the very end.\"—Linda Howard\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A master storyteller.\"—Tami Hoag  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A chilling read.\"—Catherine Coulter\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A scary page-turner.\"—Iris JohansenKay Hooper, who has more than six million copies of her books in print worldwide, has won numerous awards and high praise for her novels. Kay lives in North Carolina, where she is currently working on her next novel.\u003cb\u003eShe opened her eyes abruptly,\u003c\/b\u003e as though from a nightmare, conscious of the pounding of her heart and the sound of her quick, shallow breathing in the silent room. She couldn't remember the dream, but her shaking body and runaway pulse told her it had been a bad one. She closed her eyes and for several minutes concentrated only on calming down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGradually her heart slowed and her breathing steadied. Okay. Okay. That was better. That was much better.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe didn't like being scared.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling. Gradually a niggling awareness of something being different made her turn her head slowly on the pillow so 5he cotald look around the room.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt wasn't her room.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer other senses began to wake then. She heard the muffled, distant sounds of activity just beyond the closed door. She smelled sickness and medicine, the distinct odors of people and machines and starch. She noted the Spartan quality of the room she was in, the hospital bed she was lying on--and the IV dripping into her arm. All of that told her she was in a hospital.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt took a surprising effort to raise her head and look down at herself; her neck felt stiff, unused, and a rush of nausea made her swallow hard. But she forced herself to look, to make sure all of her was there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBoth arms. Both legs. Nothing in a cast. Her feet moved when she willed them to. Not paralyzed then. Good.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith an effort, she raised the arm not hooked to the IV until she could see her hand. It was unnervingly small, not childlike but. . . fragile. The short nails were ragged and looked bitten, and the skin was milky-pale. She turned it slowly and stared at the palm, the pads of heir fingers. No calluses, but there was a slight roughness to her skin that told her she was accustomed to work.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfraid of what she'd find, she touched her face with light, probing fingers. The bones seemed prominent, and the skin felt soft and smooth. There was no evidence of an injury until her exploration reached her forehead and right temple. There, a square of adhesive bandage and a faint soreness underneath told her she'd suffered some kind of cut.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut not a bad one, she thought, and certainly not a big one. The bandage was small, two or three square inches.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBeyond the bandage, she found her hair limp and oily, which told her it hadn't been washed recently. She pulled at a strand and was surprised that it was long enough for her to be able to see. It was mostly straight, with only a hint of curl. And it was red. A dark and dull red.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow why did that surprise her?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor the first time, she let herself become aware of what had been crawling in her subconscious, a cold and growing fear she dared not name. She realized she was lying perfectly still now, her arms at her sides, hands into fists, staring at the ceiling as if she would find the answers there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe wasn't injured except slightly, so why was she here? Because she was ill? What was wrong with her?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy did her body feel so appallingly weak?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd far, far worse, why couldn't she remember-- \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Oh, my God.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe nurse in the doorway came a few steps into the room, moving slowly, her eyes wide with surprise. Then professionalism obviously took over, and she swallowed and said brightly if a bit unsteadily, \"You--you're awake. We were.., beginning to wonder about you, Fa--Miss Parker.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eParker.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'll get the doctor.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe lay there waiting, not daring to think about the fact that she had not known her own name, still didn't beyond that simple and unfamiliar surname. It seemed an eternity she waited, while those cold and wordless terrors clawed through her mind and churned in her stomach, before a doctor appeared. He was tall, a bit on the thin side, with a sensitive mouth and very brilliant, very dark eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"So you're finally awake.\" His voice was deep and warm, his smile friendly. He grasped her wrist lightly as he stood by the bed, discreetly taking her pulse. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Can you tell me your name?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe wet her lips and said huskily, \"Parker.\" Even her voice sounded rusty and unused, and her throat felt scratchy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe didn't look surprised; possibly the nurse had confessed that she had provided that information. \"What about your first name?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe tried not to cry out in fear. \"No. No, I--I don't remember that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Do you remember what happened to you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"No.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"How about telling me what year this is?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe concentrated, fought down that cold, crawling panic. There was nothing in her mind but blankness, an emptiness that frightened her almost beyond words. No sense of identity or knowledge. Nothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eNothing.\u003c\/i\u003e","brand":"Bantam","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301678600421,"sku":"NP9780553576924","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780553576924.jpg?v=1767729026","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/hiding-in-the-shadows-isbn-9780553576924","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}