By Dean Koontz
Released lower than pseudonym Deanna Dwyer.
Katherine got here to Owisden within the wintry weather, to be the secretary-companion to Lydia Boland, one of many wealthiest girls within the kingdom. The activity used to be a thrilling problem for Katherine, and a wanted swap from the occasions she'd faster overlook. And her new business enterprise was once a captivating and gracious woman. If in simple terms the entire humans of Owisden and the little mountain village that huddled opposed to the property for cover have been so great, Katherine's happiness will be guaranteed. in spite of the fact that, underneath the allure stirred different feelings, different forces. there has been evil in that mountain valley, a brooding evil that worshipped at a depressing altar... an altar that were equipped for unspeakable sacrifice! And Katherine was once marked from the instant she arrived - marked to die!
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Additional info for Dance with the Devil
It would be interesting to explore the side streets and the curious little backwoods shops when she got a chance. But not now. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting across the small town and finding the road that lead up the other side of the valley towards Owlsden. Even as she thought that, the street broke from the pine boughs and began to angle up the other valley wall, only a few miles from the place where she had come down. Owlsden house waited at the top, looming over her, looking almost sentient, its dragon eyes glowing more fiercely the closer she drew to its gates.
No, she could not turn away. Even an animal deserved privacy in its death. When she was ten feet from the doorway, she knew beyond doubt that it was a cat and not some trick of light or her imagination. Each step closer was painful. When she was directly beneath it, she could see what had been done to it, and she turned away, staggering into the snow. She bent over and was very sick. A while later, she came back, white-faced and trembling. Her revulsion at the brutality had now turned to anger, and anger as hot as a July day, here in the cold of January.
To Katherine, all spirits were good, the spirits of angels. But she did believe, now and very reluctantly, in people so warped that they could conduct such ugly ceremonies, and she wished to have the taint these people had left behind blown loose of her. She could not go away without burying the cat, even more than she could not have done so before. If burying the creature did anything to upset the intent of the Satanic rituals, she was going to be sure to put it beneath the ground! In five minutes, she was on her way back from the car with a lug wrench which was used for changing flat tires.