"Once again T. K. Sheils demonstrates his considerable story-telling ability, combining Mayan legend with the paranormal to create a grim and deadly tale. Sheils' story succeeds on a number of levels. His prose mesmerizes the reader, slowly revealing an ever-growing horror. Other readers, seeking only a story that delivers an entertaining plot, will be riveted by the twists and turns of this careful narrative. With compelling characterizations, a well-crafted plot that the reader won't be able to put down, and the perfect touch of levity at just the right moments, Nobody Told The Wind comes very highly recommended."—Cindy Penn, WordWeaving Reviews

…When they had out gone for perhaps a mile into the open water, Sabrina abruptly cut back the engine and shifted into neutral. Ahead of them, around them, there was nothing but steel-gray air and water.

“All right,” Sabrina said. “What do you feel?”

“Alone. Damp.”

“Nothing else? No…tension in the air?”

“Not really. But you were always the one to feel vibrations and stuff. I’m a sportswriter, for the love of Pete! I feel a tingling only when my fingers get stuck between the typewriter keys.”

“I’m not joking.” Sabrina never did. With an impatient twitch of her slim hand, she motioned him to come beside her.

Jackson moved into the seat, and she pointed to the dashboard in front of her.

The compass was slowly, as if almost deliberately, going in circles.

“Why is it doing that?” Jackson asked.

“Because this is the place,” Sabrina said.

“What’s so special about this place?”

Sabrina started the Merc. “There’s an island here…” She paused.

Jackson looked around. “You mean back there?” He pointed toward the dark smudge on the horizon.

“No. Right here.”

“If you say so.” Jackson shrugged. “But I sure don’t see it.”

“That’s because it’s here”—Sabrina smiled inscrutably—“only some of the time.”