Your Singer

Haunted and hunted, Joye must escape death…or worse. Can the Cullens save her?

Prelude

Here I was - the daughter of a famous singer and actor, the Elizabeth 'Liz' Collins. Also known as Mom, to me.

During my childhood, Mom always craved attention, mostly from me, seeing as I was her only companion most of the time - constant and true. She never got married - her boyfriends usually were turned off by her always-spoltlight-grabbing attitude by the fifth or sixth date. That is, until, someone discovered her voice.

Things had been hectic at that time; my mother had just recently told me of her relationship with my father and the dreadful breakup between them. I became angry towards her, bitter. I pounded her with questions. Why didn't you go after him? Why haven't you told me sooner? Why were you trying to keep this a secret? I didn't speak to her, ignoring her pleas for reconsolidation. It didn't matter, I was too hurt.

Her being gone all the time - for her newfound singing voice's career - helped us for a truce - we would at least talk to one another. But deep inside, I still resented her for who she was, and who she soon became. Whenever I saw her on TV, dressed I gaudy clothes, poisoning the young mind, I ran out of the room, so I could scream into my pillow at peace.

So it was like this for four years - up until now. I was going to a small town to live, Forks, Washington, I believe it was called. I was at airport, getting ready to go to my house - the one my mother had bought for me, or probably very extravagant, knowing her.

And indeed it was, white and with a French flair. And it was brand new; my mother had built it just for me, making it 'large enough' for me, as she said. So, that's how I came about living in a mansion - for only a single person.

I had arrived late that night; I went to straight to my already furnished bedroom and went to sleep.

But just before sleep granted me with her presence, I thought I saw a shadow movie in my peripheral vision, but I was much too tired to investigate. And by the next morning, I had forgot all about it.