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“What guy? What did he look like?” Lena asked Anita. They had called in for dinner. Anita was cooking.
“He looked creepy. Dressed in a long dark coat with skin as pale as the dead. He had such dark eyes that I saw when I was close enough.”
“And he was hiding? From you or from my crow?”
That was an odd question. “Actually, he was watching Samson. He could have been scared of him.”
Lena frowned. “Oh shit!”
“Why? What’s the matter?”
“It’s just that my kind don’t get on so well usually. We don’t like crossing paths or messing with each other. It takes a lot out of you to deal with a fellow witch.”
Anita gulped. “A fellow witch?”
“Yes, I’d guess so—hanging around the old cemetery the day before Halloween… Did you read the sign?”
“Yes… Never linger! And did you linger? Inviting the interest of some freaky undead creature?”
“I lingered,” Anita confessed. “Only until I saw him, though. Then I ran.”
Lena huffed. “And he was at the grave of the Hawthorne boy? That’s particularly bad news. This would be the dark rising I sensed. It would be Alex Hawthorne come for another bride.”
“Yes. For his willow tree. Every generation or two he comes back for a new young spirit to feed to his three hundred year old whispering willow. Which apparently grew from the body of his wife, who the townsfolk of Apple Glen burned as a witch.”
Anita turned from stirring sauce to face the strange witch girl. “The willow tree story is true?”
“Well, it was before my time, but yes, I think it’s largely true,” Lena said quite seriously. “And it would be tomorrow night that he comes for you, if he’s chosen you, that is. Maybe you just disturbed him and he’ll pick someone else. It’s always a local girl.”
“I’m not a local but I was actually born here.” Anita had been born right there in Apple Glen, at the local doctor’s clinic, though she was taken to the city to live before she was three months old. “Plus I had this really weird feeling today. But I didn’t grow up here or anything. I haven’t been here in years.”
Lena took her hands. “What weird feeling? Nostalgia, right? Yes, I can see it in your eyes—like you own the place, right?”
“Yes. Like that,” Anita uttered, her heart fluttering.
“Oh boy, this is big. This is huge!” the witch went on. “I can’t quite see… There’s something…” She paused in thought for a moment, struggling to grasp some idea or other, it seemed. She met Anita’s eyes again. “You might be more local than you think, Anita. You may have lived here before—in a past life.”
Lester came into the kitchen sniffing the air. “Are we eating soon? I’m hungry.”
“Come on. We’ll talk more later,” Lena said. “Don’t worry. This could be a good thing.”
A good thing? Anita couldn’t see how having a reincarnated dead guy choosing her for his bride could be a good thing…….
What is true wisdom? A young and pretty mortal girl scares the hell out of a reincarnated dead guy….. Powerful meaning-of-life themes underpin this short, fun Halloween read.
Brad drove on into the scrub and the setting sun. He spotted the Athol Grove turn-off this time, and stuck to the road beyond there. It was getting on dusk when the small grading of gravel became two wheel tracks, then the trees closed in, and there was a huge bump before the 4WD bounced from the scrub to hit a broader, gravel road. They had landed directly across and needed to decide left or right. There was no sign.
“I think left,” Isabel said. She had buttoned her dress fully and was sitting properly in her seat with her seatbelt fastened.
Brad had not gotten it right all afternoon, so he decided her choice of directions was worth a try. The broad, smooth road entered a stand of pines where the shadows were deep and dark. There was a small stream to cross, and when the road emerged from the timber, there was a driveway to what looked like an abandoned service station. The building had a glass front section that could have been a café, and it had a dull, candy-striped awning. There was a house extending from the back. To the side was a large workshop with a faded, brown sign on top: Dalton’s Scrapyard.
“Hey, look—they’ve even got a cabin to rent,” Brad said as he pulled up in front of the awning. There was a large caravan and annex under a sprawling shade tree. It was brightly painted and had a small garden and neatly trimmed lawn.
He looked at Isabel. She still had the puppy eyes. He pulled her close and kissed her. “Should I ask if it’s available for the night?”
“If you want to,” she uttered softly. “You can have me anywhere you want… Or just take me home to keep.”
Brad kissed her again—hard.
An old man appeared, ambling from the side of the service station. There was a huge man behind him who hung back kind of bobbing his head and shoulders, trying to see who had come to visit, it seemed. The guy was massive with narrow shoulders and a barrel shaped abdomen and knees that touched with his boots wide apart and pigeon-toed inward. He was craning his neck, excitedly trying to see in the vehicle.
Brad lowered his window. “I have a tractor part here for Victor Turak of Dalton. Am I in the right place?”
“That’s me,” the old man replied, leaning down to look across at Isabel. He grinned. His breath was like petrol fumes. “You got my new ram? Been waiting long enough,” he went on gruffly.
“Sorry. It took some time to get on order. It was an older model that had to come from overseas apparently.” Brad showed the guy to the back of the 4WD. The part was in a metre-long wooden box that weighed enough that help had been needed to lift it in.
There was a delivery docket that the old man scribbled his signature on. “Boy!” he called out, and the bigger man approached, still bobbing his head and shoulders and eyeing the inside of the vehicle as he got close enough to see through the tinted windows. “Get that, Boy!” the older man commanded, and Boy lifted the box and tipped it up onto his shoulder with ease.
Brad’s height didn’t even reach the guys chin. He was the biggest human he had ever seen in real life. He had buck teeth and a broad, flat forehead. His eyes were small and set too close to his nose and far too deep into his skull. At that, he was also cross-eyed, Brad noticed. He lurched off around the corner of the building carrying the tractor part as if it were nothing.
“Mama’s got hot meatloaf and fresh coffee brewing,” the old man announced, slapping an arm around Brad’s shoulder as if he was suddenly a long-lost relative come to visit.
“No, thanks. We’ve already eaten!” Isabel announced just as forthrightly. She had gotten from the vehicle and stood on the side-step looking over the roof.
“We were wondering if the cabin was available for the night?” Brad asked. “We’re good for food and all, but it’s been a long day driving to find this place.”
The old man rubbed his chin. “That right, Girl? You want to stay the night?”
“Yes,” Isabel replied, kind of meekly that time.
“Just the one night, eh?” The old man included Brad in the question that time. He was grinning between the two of them and nodding his head.
“Yes. For just one night,” Isabel answered him. “That’s all—”
He chuckled. “Well, I suppose our fine cabin here is available for the night.” He had taken Brad by the shoulder again. His grip was of iron, and he was kneading a neck muscle with his thumb. “I think you young folks might find our cabin mighty comfy after a long day out on the road.”
“Very good. Do we sign in somewhere? I have cash,” Brad offered.
They were strolling toward the cabin. Isabel had taken Brad’s hand and was clinging to it. She kept him between her and the weird old man.
“Let’s worry about payment when you check out in the morning, eh?”
“Fine. Thank you.” Brad waved as the old man turned and ambled off. The big guy was back, but the old man turned him away and pushed him through a gate and closed it.
Isabel was already in the cabin somewhere. Brad heard her steps coming from deep within and returning to the open door where she appeared smiling broadly and looking at him with her puppy eyes.
“One second,” Brad said to her, and he quickly moved the 4WD over to the cabin, grabbed his bag and locked up.
The entry to the cabin was the annex section attached to the caravan. There was an open bathroom door with a toilet visible. Isabel was standing in a living area with her arms behind her back and her chest forward, still grinning as she was obviously waiting. Brad pointed to the toilet, and she nodded. He found that room to be surprisingly spotless. It was sparkling clean, and there was a fresh floral aroma in the air. There was a pile of fluffy towels on a stand beside the shower cubicle. There was a vanity with soaps and a mirrored cabinet stocked with a range of toiletries. It was well set up for any female occupants and had items for men as well.
“This is very clean,” he said to Isabel when he approached her sitting on a long blanketed couch. There was a polished wooden dining set and a fully equipped kitchen.
“Yes, it is very clean,” Isabel replied, standing and peering up at him. There were even fresh flowers in a vase on the bench.
Brad took Isabel’s hand and led her to the bedroom. He turned her to face him with her back to the bed. He lifted her chin and kissed her lips. “It’s been years since I’ve been with someone so young and pretty,” he said to her. “Haven’t had much of this at all lately.”
“You can have me now,” she uttered softly. “You can have everything you’ve been thinking about today—however you want me,” she added sensually, looking directly into his eyes.
Brad’s penis firmed instantly. It lifted and hardened almost painfully at the look of her—at the slight parting of her lips and the total submission in her stare.
He claimed her. He lowered her to the bed and dropped on top of her, forcing her legs open with his thighs and grinding his bulge into her crotch during another deep, searching kiss. Her legs had fallen aside, and her arms had flopped above her head. She was twirling hair in her fingers as he knelt and ripped his shirt off. Her eyes widened as they caressed his chest, and she let out a tiny giggle.
Brad undid the buttons of her dress and opened it. He left it parted either side of her on the bed and looked at her breasts. They had goose-bumps, and her nipples were tight. He cupped both mounds and thumbed the firm little raspberries. She was watching his hands. She hummed softly as he bent to one nipple and sucked it into his mouth. He had to move down the bed to get at them, and he worked his jeans and shorts off and pulled her little, chequered panties from her legs while sucking from one nipple to the other.
He moved back to her lips and tasted them. Her legs had fallen open again, and he felt between them to find her very wet. Lowering down fully on top of her, he curled his hips, entering and surging up inside of her. She bit his lip, and her fingernails dug into his back. He withdrew then surged again, lifting her slender body and thrusting deep into it.
Brad kept the pretty young face in his hands so he could kiss those cherry-bomb lips at will. He supported his upper body on his elbows and cradled her head while humping with his lower body, building a steady rhythm. He had been aroused all day, so it was difficult to be controlled and patient. He wanted to just take her selfishly, and he could have. She was clinging to his back with those painted nails, but her legs were limp either side of his, and what he wanted—what he needed—was there for the taking.
Brad lost all control. A frenzy of powerful thrusts ended in a tremendous climax that had him crushing the slender young thing to his body and trying to fill her with the burst of ecstasy that exploded from within him.
When his climax abated, he held her face again, smoothing her hair aside and kissing her clumsily. “Oops—lost it a bit there.”
She took a breath under his weight. “That’s okay. It was nice.”
Brad was still firm inside of her. He withdrew and inserted again. Her eyes closed and slowly opened.
She grinned. “Come shower with me? We’re all sweaty now.”……
The road rolled beneath the smooth, powerful vehicle. It had been an hour since Kangaroo Flat with a number of small roads branching off left and right. The signpost for Athol Grove was at a crossroad pointing right. It said fifty-five kilometres, which would be about an hour with a short stop to deliver the tractor part factored in.
Isabel had dozed off with her legs swayed toward Brad. Her head had rocked against the door, and her lips were relaxed with a light, contented smile. Brad could see up the skirt of her dress to her chequered panties.
The girl’s half my age. What am I thinking?
He watched the road but kept glancing to have another look at her exposed like that. He looked up from her slender young thighs to meet her well-knowing, slightly animated gaze. He couldn’t help another quick flash down to her open dress as well.
He shook his head. Oh, boy…
“What?” she asked sweetly.
“Nothing. Just—” He looked her over again, glancing sideways. “You’re not like, fifteen or something are you, Isabel? You’re not a runaway?”
“Do I look only fifteen?”
“Damned if I know with you girls. Fifteen, twenty—who can tell?”
She was fixing her hair, plucking at it in the vanity mirror on the sun-visor. With her arms raised, Brad could see her small, white breast and firm little nipple in through her dress. There were actually two buttons undone, he noticed, swallowing hard again.
“Well, how old are you?” she asked.
Brad let his eyes lower to her thighs again. It had been months since he was last with a woman. It had been twenty years since he was last with a slender girl.
“Well, I’m pushing twenty something. So, is a fifteen year age difference too much?”
Brad looked at her. She was smiling.
“Well, is it?”
“Too much for what?” It was in no way too much for him. She was legal.
“Too much for what you’re obviously thinking,” she shot at him with eyebrows raised.
“You know what I’m thinking?”
“You’re thinking the same thing you men are always thinking,” she said, without meeting his sideways glance that time. “Except, I don’t mind you thinking that.”
She glanced. “No.”
Brad had to watch the road—or gravel track as it was—but he managed to find time to look his increasingly interesting travel partner over again. She had moved her legs down from the seat, so he could no longer see her panties, but the short skirt of her sundress was bunched up beneath her and only just concealed them. With the two buttons at the top of her dress undone, the fabric gaped and sagged, allowing him a view of a lot of pure white skin even with her sitting back as she was.
She was wearing a tiny gold leaf pendant on a thin chain. “Do you like it?” she asked, shifting around to face him and fiddling with the pendant.
“It’s pretty,” Brad answered.
With her legs swaying back toward him, her thighs had parted to reveal the crotch of her panties again. He swerved back onto the road after having veered from it momentarily. She giggled and bit her bottom lip then applied some cherry-bomb gloss.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” she asked.
She pointed to a rocky hill in the distance to the left of the road. “Up there. It’s a really nice view, and we could stop for a while.”
There was a fork in the road. “That way?” Brad asked.
She shrugged. “I forget the exact way. The roads all look the same around here if you ask me.”
The fork looked like it was headed in the general direction of the rocky hill. Brad figured with the country being so flat and open, he would be able to find his way back easily enough.
The girl was looking at him as much as he was checking her out. He flexed his bicep once or twice when he felt her eyes. He had powerful thighs that were nicely defined by his jeans. The vehicle was automatic, so he was able to sit relaxed with his legs open and his package bulging with the state of his arousal. While they chatted, she would be watching his face, and he had no trouble keeping a smile on it.
There were three other intersections and choices of roads to be taken before a short, steep climb up a rocky trail to a promontory overlooking the arid expanse of country they had been travelling. Brad pulled up and turned off the engine. The girl was sitting there with a light smile on her face, uninterested in the scenery, it seemed.
She looked at Brad’s open packet of beef jerky in the centre console. “Have you been eating that?”
“This morning. Before we met,” Brad explained, remembering her aversion to meat.
“Do you have a toothbrush in your bag?” she asked, pleadingly. “Would you mind—before um—?”
Brad got out his toothbrush and quickly complied with the entirely reasonable request, spitting out his open door. The girl watched, kneeling on her seat at that point.
“Thanks,” she uttered sweetly.
Brad tossed his toiletries bag into the back seat and claimed her with a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her to his mouth and kissing her. “You’re welcome,” he said and kissed her again.
For all of her apparent confidence, she was very submissive. Her body relaxed, and she moaned softly as he searched her mouth with his tongue. When he relented and sought her eyes, he found them glazed with willingness.
She was sitting in her seat again with her legs swayed together. The storage section of the car was taken up by the tractor part. The back seat had the cooler and Brad’s overnight bag. He pulled them aside. Isabel just watched as he reached down beside her and released the catch to lay her seat back. She touched his chest, feeling him through his shirt with delicate fingers and long, lightly penetrating nails painted purple. Brad kissed her hand and placed it back on his chest as he lowered to her parted lips again, tasting them and drawing in her sweet young essence as his penis firmed.
It was a roomy vehicle. He put an arm around her and lifted up her dress, her body shuddering as she half giggled and half squealed. Her stomach tensed and quivered, and her bottom lifted as he felt her belly and hips. He was kissing her again, though, and her moan went into his mouth. He kissed her chin and her neck, and he slipped two more buttons open on her dress and parted it to reveal her breasts. Her firm young body then undulated as he kissed his way lower and pulled a tight nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it and held it as he reached back down with his free hand and smoothed over her quivering belly to cup her chequered panties.
“Mmm,” she moaned as she gripped his head and pulled his hair. She ground against his hand and thrust her chest upward. She had arched up off the seat, and Brad slipped more fully beneath her. He moved his arm from the back of the seat and reached around to hold her and feel one breast while sucking on the other one. He kept her in place on his lap and used his fingers to keep pace with her wild lower body gyrations against his hand. He felt into her wetness through the thin fabric, and as she neared her climax, he slipped his hand down the front of the tiny garment and inserted fingers into her. He then just held her as her body convulsed, her legs clamping together and crushing his hand, her arm gripping his head and holding him to her breast.
Brad waited for the girl to come back from wherever her mind had taken her. Her eyes rolled and focused on his. She bit her lip and smile, her cheeks flushed, her body again softly convulsing as he removed his hand from down her panties.
“Um… That was um—”
“That was fun,” Brad finished for her. He was painfully erect but was thinking about where he could take her in order to meet his own desires. He could have her right then and there. The glazed look of submission was still in her eyes. He could sit her on his lap or bend her over the bonnet of the 4WD if he chose to, but he wanted something else. He needed to be pressed fully against her beautiful young body—to be on top of her and between those long, slender legs.
“You can stay with me tonight, yeah? When we get to Athol Grove, you can spend the night with me?”
“Okay,” she uttered softly. “If you want.”
“Oh, I want,” he breathed, taking her lips again and drawing in her exciting young essence. “I say we get back on the road, drop this stupid tractor part off, and find a room.”
She giggled. “Okay. I like that idea.”
Brad took another taste of her lips then extracted himself from beneath her. He helped her lift the seat back up and watched her fix her dress. It was still open, and she looked from her breasts to meet his gaze, waiting a moment until he turned away, smiling and shaking his head, then she tugged her dress closed and refastened two of the buttons.
“Going to need to find that room fast,” Brad declared.
She was smiling. “Okay.” She tucked her legs up on the seat and laid her head against the backrest, her pretty eyes wide and sparkling as she rested there looking at him…..
Lester took a breath and held it. What he had been dreaming about every night and day for the past ten years was about to happen. The girl ran fingers along the inside of the waistband of his underpants. Her eyes widened with interest, and she pulled the elastic out and stretched it over his erection, freeing it to lever almost completely vertical and swollen to the point it felt like it was going to explode.
“Oh my,” she cooed gaily, her smile flashing, her eyes like saucers as she glanced up then looked back at Lester’s penis.
She tilted her head to study it from the side. Her curls cascaded. He could feel her breath against the taut skin. She tilted her head the other way. Her curls rolled over to fall from her neck again. She leaned in closer and blew softly, starting at the base and causing a cool, sweet breath that caressed his length all the way to the blood-filled dome.
“Um… That um—that feels…” Lester couldn’t articulate.
The pretty farmer’s daughter just smiled up at him then soaked her washcloth and dabbed at his groin, lifting his testicles and gently cupping them with the wet fabric. She soaked the cloth again and wrung it out. Her eyes lit up as she looked at his penis purposefully.
“Hmm… Are you sure you’re not scared of my daddy?”
Lester shook his head urgently. “Nope. I’m not scared.” He had found his voice all of a sudden.
She laid the cloth over the palm of her hand then closed it around his penis, squeezing just a little against the flex, containing the surge of delight in the grip of her hand.
“Well, if you’re sure you want to, we could try something…”
“Something?” Lester croaked. His voice failing.
She nodded, biting that lip again. “If you sit down on the stool I could sit on your lap.” She had touched the button on her jean shorts. She popped it open. There was a zipper, and she tugged the pull tab.
Lester watched. He sat down on the stool and looked up to meet her eyes then looked back at what she was doing. His underpants were around his ankles. He kicked them away. She had lowered the zipper, and when she tugged her shorts down, there was only a trimmed patch of hair.
She stepped out of her shorts and straddled his thighs, taking hold of his shoulders and lowering herself to his lap. His penis came to rest against her belly at first. She pressed forward and kissed him, rolling her tummy, with her patch of hair prickly against his testicles and the heat from her sex kind of wet and interesting as it squished over the base of his erection.
“What about—” He was thinking of a condom, but she cut off his question with another kiss. She rolled her lower body, lifting slightly, and the moist heat from her sex slid up the underside of his penis until it kind of hugged the swollen glans. She then rolled her hips forward and captured him, that exquisitely interesting heat and wetness swallowing him up and making him want to thrust into it.
He looked down between their bodies and saw he was inside of her. She squirmed, grinding and making that moist wetness swirl around his penis. Her bra still clung to her nipples, but she tugged it down to reveal them. She then hugged his head and squished her breasts against his chest. That feeling alone was amazing, the feel of being inside of her completely foreign yet entirely natural.
Lester hugged her tight and let her grind and squish down onto him until he couldn’t hold back any longer and ejaculated, then he cuddled her until her body eventually tensed, and she held still, shuddering and moaning into his neck.
Her breathing settled after a few minutes. “I’d better go before Daddy comes.”
She pulled on her clothes. Lester dressed quickly too.
“Wait up in the loft. I’ll bring food, okay?”
Lester nodded. He was tingling all over. He was going to do anything she said right then……
Lester opened his eyes to sunlight and the sound of hens clucking. It took him a moment to figure out where he was and what was happening. The dread and horror of his situation rose up to consume him, and he crept over to the edge of the loft to see what was what. A girl’s voice carried to him through the crisp morning air. She was humming a melody. He saw the hens first then her curly dark hair. She was sprinkling grain from a wooden bucket.
Lester craned his neck to see directly below the ledge of the hay loft window. The girl wandered closer to the wall. She placed her bucket on the ground and pulled her long hair back, raking it with both hands, and with the front of her chequered shirt gaping to reveal a lacy, pink bra.
“Ohh!” she cried, her eyes springing wide to fix on Lester’s heating face. “Hey, is that you again? Didn’t my father catch you last night?”
Lester scurried back against the wall. Panic gripped him. He waited, afraid to breathe. There was no sound from below. The girl hadn’t screamed for her father. Suddenly her dark curls appeared at the top of the ladder to the loft, and then her face. She looked closely at him and smiled. “It is you!”
“No, it’s not,” Lester croaked. “It was some other guy who looks like me.”
She scoffed lightly. “Yeah, sure it was.”
Lester edged back some more until he was in a corner with nowhere to go. The girl crawled toward him, still smiling. Her chequered shirt had a few buttons undone. Her bra was all lace, and he could see her nipples through it. She had a silver pendant: the words FARMER’S DAUGHTER on a thin chain. Her legs were long and slender. There were pockets sticking out the bottom of her frayed jean shorts.
“Aw, what happened to you?” she cooed, edging close and stroking his face. “Does it hurt?”
Lester nodded. Her scent was a light perfume. Her fingers were soft, and her lips were full and plump. She raked her bottom lip with big, white teeth, a faint grin flickering there beneath the look of concern.
“I think we need to clean you up. We need to bathe these wounds and get you something to eat and drink.” She peered from his torn trousers and scraped shins to his face. “Are you hungry?”
Lester nodded again. She was smoothing his hair, like a mother might, but she was in no way motherly. His eyes rolled down to the swell of her chest. The skin there was milky-white. She was up on her knees checking a sore spot on his scalp. Her breasts were right there, almost pressing against his face. Each breath put pressure on the next button of her shirt. Lester noticed it was actually a stud rather than a button, and it was threatening to pop.
“Come on. Daddy’s busy, so it’s safe to climb down and use the wash basin.”
“But I need to go. I need to get back to town. I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh, no! You mustn’t try and get away from Daddy. Not in the daylight. The only way to town is past our house, and he’ll see you if you try.”
“But I have to! I need to get back and call my mother. She’ll be worried about me.”
“I’ll call her for you.” The girl was pulling Lester by the hand.
“Do you have a mobile phone I could use?”
“Oh, no—there’s no mobile reception around here, silly.”
“But you’ll call from your house phone?”
“Yes, as soon as Daddy goes to feed his cows.”
She climbed down the ladder first. Lester was staring at her breasts again. She glanced down at her open shirt then smiled up at him. “See, I knew it was you!” She tugged her shirt, but it wouldn’t stretch closed. “Bad boy!”
Lester climbed down with his body turned away to prevent her seeing his erection. His shins were stinging, but that didn’t matter. She sat him on a wooden stool and used a wet cloth to clean the dried blood from his face and hair. There was a wound at the back of his scalp. She leaned over him to tend to it, which pressed her breasts in his face again, so he clutched his jacket in his lap. She tugged his trousers up and bathed his shins.
“Where did you get that?” Lester asked. She had produced a tube of ointment from somewhere.
“Oh, I always carry some ointment. You never know when you’re going to get a scrape doing farm chores.”
She soothed his wounds with the cool paste, blowing softly and making the hair tingle up the back of his neck while his erection throbbed.
“Come on, off with this.” She was tugging at his shirt.
Lester lifted his arms, and she stripped it from him then bathed his chest and shoulders, cleaning his upper body with water that felt warm and with fingers that felt delightful. She washed his back and his neck and under his arms. Her shirt had popped open completely, but she just smiled when he looked up from her breasts.
They were in a small laundry with a toilet in an adjoining room. There was a window that looked out at the house, so Lester felt safe from being surprised.
“You know, all the boys are so scared of my daddy. None of them are brave enough to come visit me, and I get very lonely,” the girl said. “I don’t even know what it’s like to be kissed by a boy yet.”
Lester swallowed. “You don’t?”
Her eyelids batted. She bit a lip. Lester took her hands and stood to face her. She was a little shorter and had to peer up at him. Her lips rubbed wetly together. He looked from them to her eyes—to the brilliant blue depth within them. Her lips parted, and he pressed his to them. She moaned softly into his mouth. He had no idea how to kiss, but when her tongue sought entry, he accepted it and caressed it with his own.
“I’m not scared of your daddy,” he lied, making her grin.
Her eyes lowered to his chest, and she leaned back to inspect what was happening down below. Her grin turned to a smile as she grabbed his belt and tugged at it. “I think we need to do more bathing.”
Lester felt his face heat up. “More bathing?”
She nodded. “Uh huh… Don’t you think?” ………….
BOOK REVIEW: This is the kind of story that sort of lulls you into a bit of a comfort zone with a normal enough opening few chapters, then suddenly things get freaky. I thoroughly enjoyed the setting of this scene – getting to know Tony Logan so well as a regular guy going through some midlife s*** that isn’t hard to relate to. And the off-handed way the ‘photograph’ was thought of and mentioned several times before we got a look at it. Well, I liked that too. It was a good build up to the normality of the story suddenly being blown apart…. What then follows is a gripping supernatural thriller with a kick-arse twist at the end. The upshot being that Tony Logan might have been far better off to have never seen that photograph.
BOOK REVIEW: These are gritty tales with a touch of irreverence – a dash of humour. Awesome detail in constructing both the setting and characters. This is what gives it the classic feel for me. It’s like one of those old late night scary movies that has you so involved that you’re clawing the armrest of your lounge. I think the pacing adds to that too. There’s some real suspense here – the creepy kind. And a great cast of characters! Everything works from the seriously gruesome to the mildly quirky…. Did I read something in the intro about screenplays as the original idea? Definite late night movie fodder – good follow-on viewing after The Twilight Zone has set the mood.
BOOK REVIEW: The slow reveal of what the heroine, Laura, actually is was fascinating. The story provided an interesting take on age and maturity – the history of the centuries old characters. The play on Laura’s vulnerability amongst the vampires and the relationships between feeding couples was good reading. Things escalate into a steamy romance and big action climax. This book has a smart ending. I liked it.
BOOK REVIEW: I’m just going to lead in with a word or two about Chapter 5: Lord Of Devil’s Night. Let’s make it two words: frigging awesome… Overall this is a varied line-up of creepy and erotic stories with a sometimes conversational tone that adds clever subtlety. Ratz in the Machine tells us to beware the nerdy nice guy, and has a surprising and quite brilliant shift from erotic to horrifying. The Hangin’ Tree, almost poetic, takes you down deep and has you wondering. The Bag Snatchers is freaky, imaginative, and nails the spirit of All Hallows Eve. Voices is the creepy, atmospheric one of the bunch, and A Grim Tribute is grim alright. It’s a seriously twisted tribute to a fairy tale that was little-kid-scary already. But getting back to Lord Of Devil’s Night… You know how it’s so great when you are right inside the characters head? Well perhaps you won’t want to be inside this particular guy’s head but you don’t have any choice. You’re pulled in and forced to experience a blend of eroticism and pain that is thematic metaphor on overload. And… well… good luck with that.
BOOK REVIEW: This story has a lot going for it in a number of ways. Awesome detail and imaginative ideas create a tangible and believable fantasy world – believable enough to pull you out of the real world that is. The heroine and hero both rock. You’re on their side from the start (although they’re on opposite sides) and you’re right there with them when all seems lost at the end. The emotional journey here is expertly crafted. It’s simple and true – a wonderful exposé of the power of love, including the flavours of lust and physical pleasure. The overall idea is tantalising with a touch of humour – life in the Men’s Tent looks pretty good to me… way to be imprisoned:) This is a captivating tale with an ending that tops everything I’ve mentioned so far.