The Memory Closet

Something happened to Anne Mitchell when she was 11 years old that erased every childhood memory, left the first decade of her life a hollow, empty void.

Finally, 25 years later, she has come home to re-claim her past.

Oh, she gets it. She understands that something profoundly evil lurks in the swirling purple haze of her amnesia.

For a quarter of a century, she was enslaved by what she called the "Boogie Man"-- images from her lost childhood that appeared in the shadows behind her reflection in mirrors and wine glasses, haunted her dreams and attacked her in screaming night terrors.

Fear of facing that secret held her hostage. Like a schoolyard bully, it twisted her arm behind her back and forced her to accept that her life began at age 11 in the dirt beside the ditch where the family station wagon burned like hell had opened up a crack in the world right there in the back seat.

Then the Boogie Man destroyed her career.

And Anne saw him in her dying mother's eyes. With her last breath, Susan Mitchell begged for her daughter's forgiveness. She didn't mean for it to happen, she gasped, but she'll burn in hell for what she did all the same.

What did her mother do? Anne has to know.

So she has come home to a small Texas prairie town to live with her crazy grandmother in the rambling old house where she grew up, determined to take a stand there against the Boogie Man.

But Anne isn't really prepared for how expensive remembering might be. The cost of her memories might be her sanity.

Each new revelation loosens Anne's grip on reality.

Surely her crazy grandmother didn't do THAT to Anne's beloved parakeet! Yes, the old woman DID! No ... actually, she didn't.

The horror that attacks her in the garage--it can't possibly be real...can it?

And most important: what happened to the little Indian girl with a face like a china doll whose name was Laughs in the Wind?

The Boogie Man knows.

He also knows Anne's here. He knows it's showtime. And he knows what she doesn't--that Anne might very well have to pay for her past with her future, that the cost of remembering could be her life.