Read Lamb to the Slaughter (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 1) Online
Authors: Karen Ann Hopkins
Lamb to the Slaughter (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 1)
PRAISE FOR LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER
“A well-crafted tale of murder begotten by the collision of two incompatible worlds.” Kirkus reviews.
“Lamb to the Slaughter
was a an easy, enjoyable read that I completely enjoyed. I was over the moon excited to hear that there will be more books in this series. Serenity and Daniel will solve cases involving Amish communities throughout the Midwest!” Caffeinated Book Reviewer
“I would highly, highly recommend this one…From the mystery, the characters, and the writing this is a fantastic book! I cannot wait for book two!” Lose Time Reading
“From the prologue to the last chapters, Lamb to the Slaughter had me instantly hooked. Ms. Hopkins is a master at pacing and setting up her stories in a way that has readers connected to both the characters and the story line.” Love-Life-Read
“This book had it all!! Murder, mystery, forbidden romance and left you needing to read the next book in the series ASAP!! Loved this book!” Curling Up With A Good Book
“Karen Ann Hopkins has delivered with Lamb to the Slaughter. I love the uniqueness Karen Ann Hopkins brings to the mystery genre, and I will DEFIANTLY be reading more from her in the future.” Unabridged Bookshelf
“The characters are complex and dimensional, whether they have a large or smaller part to play in this story, and it really added such a richness that I enjoyed.” Bewitched Bookworms Reviews
“Lamb to the Slaughter is a must read for fans of mystery novels. Karen Ann Hopkins made me a fan with her YA Temptation series, and she’s made me an even bigger fan with this murder mystery.” Actin Up With Books
“An intriguing tale full of mystery and suspense....LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER had me thinking and rethinking the entire time.” I Read Indie!
“I’m so glad that this is going to be a series; because it’s one of the greatest murder mysteries that I’ve read in a long time.” Little Miss Drama Queen
“Simply put Karen Ann Hopkins, takes her readers to a new level of Amish fiction and suspense.”
Deitre Helvey Owens at Once Upon a Twilight
“Lamb to the Slaughter will keep you at the edge of your seat. Don’t miss this nail biting experience!” Her Book Thoughts
“Lamb to the Slaughter is a stunningly suspenseful read that will have you flipping pages long after bedtime. You won’t want to miss it!” Bittersweet Enchantment
Books by Karen Ann Hopkins
Serenity’s Plain Secrets
in reading order
LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER
WHISPERS FROM THE DEAD
Wings of War
in reading order
EMBERS
GAIA
The Temptation Novels
in reading order
TEMPTATION
BELONGING
FOREVER
RACHEL’S DECEPTION (Crossroads)
L
AMB TO THE
S
LAUGHTER
Karen Ann Hopkins
Copyright © 2015 Karen Ann Hopkins
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1506157203
ISBN 13: 9781506157207
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015900901
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
North Charleston, South Carolina
For my children, Luke, Cole, Lily, Owen and Cora.
And my best friend, Jay.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Even though I published this one on my own, there were still a lot of people influential in bringing the project to life. Without help from the following, Lamb to the Slaughter wouldn’t be available to the public.
A big thank you to Christina Hogrebe for asking me to write an Amish mystery.
Much appreciation to Carey Hardin Gleckler for helping with the social media. You’re the best!
I was thrilled to have Grace Bradford, a former horse-back riding student of mine, babysitter to my children and close friend, bring her editing skills to the table. Many thanks for your detailed analysis and all the time you put into Lamb. Hang in there, your time will come.
A standing ovation goes out to Kendra Haynes, another one of my alumni riding students and ‘adopted’ little sister, for building my amazing Website. I can always count on you to be creative and clever!
Thank you, Jenny Zemanek and Seedlings Design Studio for the awesome cover! You got the combination of Amish and creepy just right.
Thanks to my mother, Marilyn Lanzalaco, for reading Lamb twice! You’re my biggest fan and toughest critic all rolled into one and I love you for it.
A bone crushing hug for my teenage daughter, Lily, and her mad photo cropping and collaging skills! The posters you’ve painstakingly created are wonderful.
And a collective shout out to the following people for helping with the daily chores, providing shelter from the storm and for just plain being there: Luke, Cole, Owen, Cora, Dad, Anthony, Opal and Sue & Joe Detzel.
P
ROLOGUE
NAOMI
H
ugging myself, I tried to stop shaking. I’d burned my last bridge. Forward was the only way to go.
The dim light was nearly gone when I finally forced my muscles into action and headed in the direction of the road again. The darkness caused my heart to race as I sped up. Usually, I loved when night arrived. It gave me the opportunity to hide from the others—but not tonight. The unexpected encounter had pumped adrenaline through my veins, making me ever more fearful.
I urged my legs faster, until my breaths came out in short, quick gasps. I alternated between jogging, walking and stumbling, all the while listening for sounds of another ambush. The countryside was quiet now. The wind that had been beating the corn stalks together only minutes before had died down to a soft breeze.
I reckoned that I wasn’t too far from the road, but I wasn’t sure. The last time I came this way was about four years ago when I was fourteen and turkey hunting with Dat and my brother, Samuel. It had been springtime and the corn had
been only seeds in the ground then. The stalks were well past the top of my head now, turning the cornfield into an impossible maze.
The plants were the same as everybody else in my life. They were toying with me, purposely making my escape from Blood Rock even more difficult. I was glad to leave them behind—along with the people.
I paused in my tracks to listen again. With the toe of my shoe still pressed into the mud, I was ready to lurch forward in an instant if need be. Taking a calming breath, I focused on the dark shapes of the treetops jutting above the corn. The hedgerow wasn’t that far off. The best thing to do was to leave the cover of the cornfield and follow the edge of the wood, I decided.
A sort of excited panic ran through me at the realization that I was almost free. With renewed energy, I swatted the razor sharp leaves aside, ignoring the bloody little scratches they were tearing into my arms and hands. With chin raised, I fixed my sight high on the shadowy tree line and sprinted, closing the distance quickly. With only a few more rows to go and the glorious tangle of bushes and trees in view through the gaps in the corn, I murmured, “Thank you, Jesus.”
The sound hit my ears less than a second before an invisible force slammed into my belly, knocking me backwards. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the ground. Pieces of stalks jabbed into my back painfully. I tried to rise, but the tightness in my stomach wouldn’t let me. Dragging my hand from my side, I felt around until I touched warm wetness.
Blood
.
A reddish-gold harvest moon was rising above the tree line and I stared at its blazing colors, wondering at my ill luck.
Maybe I was being punished for running away and for all my other sins. The possibility filled me with fear and I tried to ask the Lord for forgiveness, but the only sound that came out from between my chapped lips was a ragged breath.
I lay motionless in the whispering chill. There was the smell of damp leaves and moss in the air, and the night breeze scratched the dry corn stalks against each other noisily. And then there was a more sinister, unidentifiable sound from further away—the sound of something large moving.
I turned my head slowly, peering into the darkness when a shadow appeared. It leaned over me, framed by the light of the fiery moon. I blinked, confused. Was it an angel?
I strained to see, but blackness was peppering my vision quickly. My head felt heavy and sleepiness pressed my eyes closed. I was so tired.
The soft, warm breath on my face reminded me that I wasn’t alone and for an instant I was afraid. But then my mind drifted and I thought of Will.
How long would he wait for me?
…and then there was only darkness.
1
SERENITY
November 6th
I
couldn’t stop myself from glancing back at the green combine. The swath of mowed corn in its wake ended abruptly where the body had been found. I shivered, imagining what the crime scene would have looked like if the farmer hadn’t seen the girl before he crossed over these rows.
The warm air of the Indian summer would have been a treat if I wasn’t standing in the blazing sun, sweat beading on the back of my neck, and smelling the rank odor of decaying flesh. Swallowing hard, I took shallow breaths and turned to look at the balding and arthritic Bobby Humphrey, as he bent down over the girl.
