The Glass Secret (Chain of Secrets)

The Glass Secret


A Paranormal Love Story

Chain of Secrets










“Spine-tingling, sexy, clever, and heartfelt -- like
The Butterfly Effect
collided with
The Time Traveler’s Wife
.” –
Eve Paludan
, author of
The Man Who Fell from the Sky.




I am glad you have found the path of love, and I want you to be happy. Shame that we could not see us... I would keep forever the memory of our meeting, your sparkling eyes and your bewitching charm. However, knowing that I would always be there (in France and the US, since I promised to come see you) and you're welcome in my heart. I embrace you warmly (winter is coming...) Your day is my day...
Stephane Rolleau.




Published by Leilani

The Glass Secret

Copyright © 2012 by Leilani

Cover design created by Lani Bennett

All Rights Reserved.


Ebook Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase a
additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to your favorite ebookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.




I am blessed and proud to dedicate this novel to my three amazing children, Adella, Haley and Quinton...remember the “Butterfly kisses.” Pass them along. All three of you are my inspiration.


To My Parents, Darryl and Shirley Dorsey who have raised a six-pack! Thank you for your unconditional love.


In loving memory of my Grandma Helen, aka Bubba, A woman before her time...




A very special thanks to J.R. Rain, AKA Jon-Jon to me, you have been my greatest mentor and best male friend a girl could have. You are the one who definitely kicked my butt into high gear when I wanted to give up! When it comes to thanking you, there are not enough words to say how grateful I am…and you know I can talk and write long. Lol. You have given me something that is priceless, by believing in me and that I could do this...without you in my life—well, let’s not go there right now, or there will be tear stains on the pages of this if it were paper. I believe you know what you mean to me. Love


To my all my beautiful girlfriends that have been the best of muses a novelist can have, you have all given me colorful material and ideas to weave into my fictional characters. I am grateful for the time you have all taken to read, “So Eden” and for your loving input where it was needed, kicking my ass when necessary and also for the inspirational accolades. I love you all in no certain order, Beverly Markunas Pfab, Jill Kersey, Alena Dorsey, Victoria Dorsey, Laura Dorsey, Pam Keeling, Jan Dimofski, Jackie Blaze, Karen Kevorkian aka KK, Marianna Felice, Sally Sayh, Maria Cecilli Crust, and Sharon McKnighton, Ria Cantrell and he’s not a girl friend, but a close friend Bobby Freeman,
love you too! If I have forgotten anyone, know that you are in my heart. Also, thanks for understanding why I have become a hermit at times. LOL, but still none of you had given up on inviting me out to spend time with you when I felt like pulling my hair out! May all your dreams come true! Love me!


Love to Charlie Bennett III, I have the greatest appreciation and respect for you. You are the best ex-husband a girl could have! Not too many ex-spouses can say this, I’m glad we have remained the closest of great friends. Thanks for pushing me to “Never give up!” Remember that? Wink-wink! It’s sunk in! lol. Thanks!


Jacquelyn Prado, my editor, you are truly a Godsend! When I think about how we became a team, it gives me chills. It’s what I call serendipity! Who’s an author’s best friend? You are!!! An amazing editor! As you know, I have told you so many times, an author may have the gift of storytelling, but when they put it to electronic paper it takes a great editor to make it worth telling and reading! Thanks so much for all your time, and magically red ink, catching the faux pas, oversights and details with your hawk eyes and the fine-tuning of your Midas touch that you have contributed to perfect, “The Glass Secret!” Hmm, I think that’s a run on sentence, and I’m sure you will want to fix it. But don’t...because it doesn’t say enough, thanks sooooo MUCH. Love L


Thanks to all of you who have dedicated your time and efforts. Edited by my darling sister, Victoria Dee Dorsey and, dear friends Jill Kersey and Jen O’connell for readings.


A very special thanks goes out to Eve Paludan, my editor for seeing the potential in this novel after she read the very raw first draft and gave so much of her time, and words of encouragement to develop the story further. You certainly stirred up my imagination. ox



The Glass Secret



“Life, love and the breath we breathe are as transparent and fragile as a glass window.”–
Leilani Bennett






ter 1

Chapter 2


Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

er 7

pter 8

er 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

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

r 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Sneak Preview: Between the Raindrops, Chain of Secrets
















“When a connection is broken, the universe finds a way to bring you back to your destiny.”



One night in Paris...



He contemplates his existence...Hell on Earth is the price he pays for his sin.


I have swallowed enough sadness in one lifetime that would equate to many lifetimes.

My days were uneventful, and time seemed to last forever...until, that fateful
night when she arrived at the brownstone. The first moment my eyes fell upon
I recognized who she was.

Since that moment, I no longer suffer as I once had. I love her face. I love her. I want so much to tell her.

My days and nights are devoted to her. The love of my life, Brielle Eden is the object of my affection and why I exist. Yet, she is unaware of my presence. She moved to Paris to start her life and to find the love of her life...letting him come to her.

To know the eyes of the one I love and to see them pull from mine—falling to the floor—is now the greatest torment I have ever endured. The pain cloaks over me like the darkness of Hell. It is like missing the one who is dead, yet they live on without you.

I remain hidden in the dark corners, veiled from the light. If she were to see me through my shroud—
I may lose any chance to redeem the love we once shared. It is becoming difficult to stay concealed and out of sight. Already, I have broken many boundaries into her world. Yet, it has been worth the risk to capture mere glimpses of her beauty.

I have discovered her days are consumed with getting things done, making trips to the university and running errands. I linger behind, following in her footsteps as she runs to and fro around the city. She spends her leisure time at the local café, enjoying lattes and reading. She loves books. Mysteries and love stories with happy endings are some of her favorites.

When she stops to peek at the treasures displayed in the windows of antique shops and bookstores, I capture her bright eyes in the reflection of the glass. I can see into the swell of her dilated irises an excitement of anticipation. She is searching for something as if she had lost it. If only it were me.

In the evenings, she writes.

I study her from afar as she sits for hours in front of a thin-flat box that contains a plethora of information and moving objects. They appear out of nowhere. Everywhere she goes she carries her “Apple” around with her. That is what she calls the little black box. It seems to please her and makes her laugh out loud. Her long thin fingers fly over the letters and words rapidly appear. It’s like magic and reminds me of my old electronic typewriter with the exception of the flat screen that lights up her words. Everything she touches is like magic to me.

She is as lonely as I am. Her eyes are dim, turned upward as she seeks out the twinkles of the lights above, and the glow of the moon. Stargazing seems to comfort her.

At times, I hear her soft cries in the night. It would be my greatest desire to accompany her, to soothe her and to wipe away her tears; however, I resist the light, and the one who keeps me anchored to all that I desire. I fear...if I were to reveal myself, she would run from me. I cannot risk losing her as I had many times before. This is the darkest plight of my vitality, so I regard her space from afar.

I am in awe of her beauty from her iridescent green eyes down to her painted red toenails. I have counted her many long luscious lashes that fan-out against her cheeks as she sleeps.

I have yet to trace my fingers along the soft angles of her profile, across her forehead, to the tilt of her turned-up nose, against the curve of her moist full lips—furthermore, down the length of her body. Her features are that of an angel. She is my angel. I have forever longed to kiss her crimson-colored lips as I once had. Yet, I forgo my desires.

I have stolen private moments, watching her when she doesn’t know that I am there. My eyes know the line of her silhouette, and the way her bare curves fade into the shadows. Do I find shame in this? Can’t say I do.

My love goes deeper than her physical attributes. Although she has been blessed with beauty marks scattered over her delicate skin, and I know each and every one, her inner soul is what attracts me to her the most.

The sight of her makes me smile. Her clumsily little quirks, fidgeting, knotting her fingers together, biting her lips and the fact that she can’t sit still are all traits that make her that much more precious, lovely and real. To me...she is a dichotomy of perfect balance. She moves with grace, but sometimes trips over her own two feet. I want to reach out to catch her from falling. Still, I refrain.

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