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Impressions of Innocence

Jan Marie Martin

 FormatISBN Price  
This Book is Available Paperback (6x9)9781410768568 $ 20.75  
About the Book

What is a nice girl like Jenna Ogden doing in love with handsome, provocatively mysterious Ron Sundy, whose mother is a buffalo who has not yet been born? 

Confused by Ron’s beliefs and his mystic abilities to heal and to “mind travel,” Jenna must examine her own faith as she wrestles with Ron’s claim that his life’s mission is to save the world from evil.  Yet, she cannot help being drawn to the compelling Ron Sundy.

Ron leads his religion, a mix of Indian lore, myth, and Christianity.  He sees himself as the son of White Buffalo, whose rebirth will signal the end of the earth.  His cousin, Erika, wants to dispose of Ron, and enthrone herself as spiritual leader of their tribe.  Her interference disturbs Jenna, as Erika attempts to recruit Jenna into her dark schemes. 

Jenna never dreamed she’d fall in love.  She was waiting for Connor Young to return from his two-year Mormon mission and marry her.  Impressions of Innocence is the story of love’s pain and triumph as Jenna grows from a sheltered, naive Mormon girl to a mature and wise woman.

Mormons, myths, and mystery combine in this story of love, deception, and intrigue.

About the Author

Ms. Martin began writing for the newspaper in grade school.  She’s won several national writing contests for comedic prose and poetry.  Her comical Mother’s Day poem has appeared in a syndicated column across the United States.

She has researched and written numerous articles for hire, including a multi-million- dollar elder-care solicitation campaign in New York.  She has written and directed many short musical plays for youth, which have been performed in Utah and Arizona.

Ms. Martin has worked with teenagers throughout her life.  She is in her 18th year as a religious educator for high school students.  She graduated from Brigham Young University, is married, and the mother of 6.  Impressions of Innocence is her maiden voyage into a full-length novel.

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The tall woman, her features invisible in the moonless night, blocked Jenna’s path.  The evil emanating from the woman reached toward Jenna like invisible wisps of draping willow blown in a paralyzing wind.  Enveloped in blackness, the figure was darker than the surrounding night.  There was nowhere to go, nothing to do but to look into her faceless eyes.  The woman reached out and effortlessly ripped a small yellow bracelet from Jenna’s wrist.

Why does she want it? 

Terrified, Jenna’s mind raced, but her feet seemed glued to the spot where she stood, her defenseless arms unable to move. 

It’s Ron’s, and it’s made of string.  String!  It has no value!

The faceless woman took a menacing step toward Jenna.  Her obscured hand drew a scarf from somewhere in the blackness.  Jenna could not see the woman’s face, but she could see the tiny yellow flowers on the blue background of the scarf.  Unable to deflect the sinister thing, Jenna felt it fall across her like an invisible web, suffocating, yet scarcely there, strands of it touching her, binding her.

Jenna wanted to scream, but could not.  Her voice was silenced by the evil of the night.  If only she could scream! 

“Ron!”  His name brought no comfort.  “Ron!”

No!  It was not Jenna who was in danger!  It was Ron!  She must run to him, warn him, but her feet were gripped in the imperceptible threads of the scarf.

“Ron!”

“Jenna.”  Gently, Greg called her name.  “Jenna, are you dreaming about Erika again?”

Gratefully, Jenna trembled in her husband’s arms, sweat pouring down her back.  Breathless and panting, she leaned against him, her fear subsiding at his touch.  Greg stroked her hair, her back, her arms.

Though her body quivered inside, her eyes were dry.  There were no more tears for Ron and Erika.  They were gone now, and she tried to wipe unbidden thoughts of them from her mind.  Usually, she was successful in turning her thoughts elsewhere, except in the troubled dreams of the night.  The nightmares, coming less frequently now, were memories, melting away in the warmth of Greg’s love.  Yet, the symbols were there.  They were always there.


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