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Echoes in the Woods

Georgina Scott

Austin Macauley Publishers

Echoes in the Woods

About the Author


Copyright Information ©


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

About the Author

Georgina Scott was born in the county of Norfolk, England, to Thomas and Sylvia who relocated from London in the early 1970s. She grew up surrounded by the beauties of East Anglia.

Joining the Royal Air Force in her late twenties, where she met her husband Charlie, also a serving member of the Royal Air Force. Both now settled in rural Lincolnshire with their beloved pets, Rose and Muggs.

After leaving the Royal Air Force and continuing to work within the aviation industry, her old passion for writing was reignited.


Charlie, with love.

Copyright Information ©

Georgina Scott (2021)

The right of Georgina Scott to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781788480109 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398433960 (ePub e-book)


First Published (2021)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf


E14 5LQ


First and foremost, I would like to say thank you to my darling husband, Charlie, for believing and encouraging me to fulfil my dreams in becoming an author. My dear friend Nick Lund, thank you also for giving me the encouragement to persevere. To Greg Browne, you know what you did. I would also like to thank Austin Macauley for taking a chance on me. Thank you all.

Chapter 1

“One of these days, I am going to kill you, kill you slowly and before I bury you, I am going to watch you burn!”

Jake thought to himself, as he sat strapped, sore and naked, to a crate in his own mess and blood, in a dark, foul, stinking room, just off the basement: his punishment for the night along with ten lashings of his father’s belt.

This morning, he was caught killing a lamb. He was curious and wanted to know what it felt like, compared to insects and amphibians. The slippery warmth of flesh against his skin felt extraordinary, exhilarating. Hearing the lamb choke and gurgle, gasping for air as he slit its throat, then cut all the way down to its stomach, it took about thirty seconds for the lamb to die. Pulling the skin apart, the first thing he noticed, was how warm the inside of the body felt, pressing deeper inside, feeling his way around the rib cage, organs and muscles. He was in total ecstasy. Heart pumping out of his chest as the adrenalin rushed around the body. It was the first time he felt a sensation within his groin. He felt excited!

The moment wasn’t long lived as he felt a hand grab the back of his neck, shaking him back to reality. “You bloody fucking little bastard!” he said, dragging Jake back to the house, in his deep, gravelled voice and cursing the boy as they crossed the field.

His mother, Faith, was a good-looking woman, with an hourglass figure and naturally curly dark shoulder length hair; she was exceptionally kind, friendly and very funny. People were naturally drawn to her. She knew what to say, and how to say it. Men drooled over her and women were envious and jealous, but they all loved being around her. She didn’t have a nasty bone in her body. In her boys’ eyes, she was exceptional.

She was hanging out the washing when she saw Jake being dragged and punched by his father and came rushing to his aide, only to be pushed and thrown to the ground. You could hear her cries and screams as she begged him to let the boy go. He grabbed her by the throat whilst covering her face with spittle and said, “Stay out of this and shut your mouth woman, or else so help me.”

“Please John, he’s just a boy, you are hurting him, let me see to him,” she said in a trembling shaky voice.

“I don’t think so,” he said, again pushing her to the floor.

He throws Jake, front forward, over some hay bales, removes his belt and starts lashing. On the third strike, Faith drags herself up from the ground and throws herself on top of the boy, with the belt striking her face, she screams in pain in floods of tears. “For god’s sake woman!” he shrieks, getting angrier by the minute. He grabs her arms and pulls her off of him. “I won’t let you hurt him, I won’t John I won’t,” she says, inconsolable. Fighting him with her fists and kicking with her feet. He grabs her by her hair and punches her, knocking her unconscious.

His eyes changed to cold daggers as he looked upon the boy, who can feel the anger, the hatred, the rage, and should be scared, but he is not. The disdain he has for his father cannot be explained. It took eight lashings before he whimpered and that seemed to appease his father as he looked down on the boy with a grin. Jake never showed really how much he hurt. His father grabbed his skinny, tiny arm and dragged him down to the basement, told him to take his clothes off and then strapped the boy to the crate with rope

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