The Whisperer. Elsa Winckler
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The Whisperer
ELSA WINCKLER
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HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
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London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2017
Copyright © Elsa Winckler 2017
Cover design by Books Covered 2017
Elsa Winckler asserts the moral right to
be identified as the author of this work
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is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © March 2017 ISBN: 9780008226558
Version: 2017-02-09
To our son, Johan, who showed me there is life outside the box
Table of Contents
“A what!” A loud voice thundered. “Are you f …”
Something fell, drowning out the rest of the word but it wasn’t difficult to figure out what the man was saying.
“… ing insane?”
Wow. A lot of aggression here. Cilla squared her shoulders and walked around the corner of the building. Two men were standing in front of the stables, glaring at each other. She knew Ken, the one who was facing her. His son was in the grade twelve class she taught. Ken was the reason she was here. Apparently the owner had a difficult stallion. But from where she was standing, the horse didn’t seem to be the one with the problem.
The other man’s back was towards her; his hands were on his hips and he was leaning forward menacingly.
“I want to use the damn horse, we need help to calm him down, to make him less aggressive, not cast a blasted spell on him. The last thing I need is a bloody woman whispering to my horses!”
Ken put a placating hand on the other man’s shoulder. “She is going to communicate with the horse so that we can find out what the problem is. No one is casting a spell! And it is not so strange – there are thousands of people all over the world who use animal communicators. Try and think outside the box for a change!”
A loud noise from within the stables again drowned out most of what the other man was saying.
“… uck the box!” were the only words she heard, but it was clear he had cussed again. Apparently his vocabulary consisted mainly of swear words that began with an f.
Ken laughed and patted the man on the shoulder. He noticed Cilla and motioned her to come closer.
“Here she is now. Stop throwing such a tantrum before this beautiful lady decides to turn around and flee. Miss Stevens, let me introduce you to