Bloodstone--an excerpt

The tiny village was wrapped in slumber. Its thick walls were secured keeping out the beasts and those who sought to harm them. Inside the walls, small shacks made of thatch were closest, forming a ring around the bigger and nicer houses that held the dignitaries and those in power or who had money. In the very center of the village was the Mayor’s home, a multi story dwelling that held the Mayor and his fat wife as well as their beautiful daughter.

The attack came at night while the village slept, the watchers on the wall too much at ease since it had been so quiet of late. One lone scout slunk through the shadows toward the center of the village, finding the home of the mayor of the small village. He came in through an unbarred window, slicing at the mayor’s sleeping form. He woke for just an instant, just as the intruder sliced his throat, leaving him gurgling in his own blood.

His wife fared little better, though she slept through the attack, not even flinching when a sword was thrust through her heart. He left them there, blood dripping from their wounds, soaking through the linen bed clothes and puddling on the rush covered floor of the house.

His eyes wandered through the richly appointed rooms, searching for the most treasured of items in the house. He found her, a young girl of eighteen summers sound asleep in her bed. A smile formed upon his mottled face, his skin gray, his hair oily and wispy around his ears.

She was beautiful, golden and pink and cream, her skin flawless, slightly rosy with sleep. Her breasts rose and fell in sleep under the linen shift that she wore. It clung to her curves as she’d kicked off the blankets, molding to her rounded hips and giving hint to the color of her nipples in the light of the fire that burned brightly in her room.

Clasping a hand over her mouth, the scout lifted her in his arms, binding her in the blankets so that she could not move. He carried the girl quickly and easily through the house, slipping out the front door and keeping to the shadows.

He was in and out so quickly that his presence was like a nightmare. A shadowed dream, slipping through the night to haunt minds and terrify children. His burden barely registered upon his mind, set as it was to do his master’s bidding. Even as she kicked and squirmed in his arms, he never lost sight of that goal, to bring the girl to his master for she was the only thing that stood between him and achieving his dream.

The road flew behind him as he ran lightly down the paths outside the gates of the village. The moon touched the night with an aura of silver, creating patterns of evil creatures from the shadows of the bare trees. He passed them by with nary a glance, running, always running.

The stitch in his side was like a mighty cramp and his breath whistled coming from lungs over taxed but he dared not stop. Night was quickly coming to an end and he could not be found on these paths with the sun’s dawning.

“Quit,” he hissed at the bundled girl. “Quiet or I shall find a way to make you quiet.”

The girl, though slight, was strong. She fought against her captor, kicking and flaying, tossing her head until the blanket loosed around her mouth. Then she screamed, a sound full of rage and terror.

“I killed your parents, girl, not much would stop me from gutting you as well,” he hissed.

The threat, instead of halting her wriggling, set her determination. She managed to uncover her hands, her breath showing white in the cold night air as she pushed and hit at the ugly man who held her captive.

*to read more, go to one of my story pages. Thanks for reading me.

My newest story--Home for the Holidays--An Excerpt.

“Hi Mom! It’s Kenna.”

“Baby!” I could hear the happiness in my mom’s voice and felt that tiny little voice berate me for not calling home more. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s great mom, I just wanted to call and let you know that I got some time off around Christmas and I thought I’d come home. That is if that’s okay?”

“Okay? Okay? That’s wonderful. Your dad will be so happy. He’s been wanting a big family Christmas with all the kids and grandkids. Now that you’re coming, it’ll be perfect. Oh I can’t wait to tell him.”

“Wait, mom, what do you mean all the kids and grandkids? Do you mean Bekka and Steven will be there?”

“Oh honey, it was such a long time ago, can’t you forgive them?”

Yeah, sure mom,” I thought, my brain whirling around the fact that my two timing ex fiancé and my sneaky bitch of a sister were going to be at mom and dad’s for Christmas.

“Honey?”

“Yeah mom,” I said, offhandedly. “Sure.”

“Bring your new beaux home with you, baby. We’re all anxious to meet him.”

“Yeah mom,” I said, having problems getting the last time I’d seen Bekka and Steven out of my mind. It was at my wedding, when she’d come and broke it up to tell Steven that she was pregnant with his child. Two faced blonde bitch.

I finished the conversation with my mom in somewhat of a daze, sitting back in my chair in my small, one bedroom apartment in Lapeer, Michigan. I worked for the State Police Post there. I was a 911 operator and a good one, or at least my last evaluation had said as much. Steven had been one of the officers that I was in charge of keeping track of. I’d managed to pull his ass out of some minor trouble and he’d come in and thanked me. We’d gone out once and then we’d been damn near inseparable.

That was until I made the mistake of taking him home to meet the rest of my family. He’d taken one look at Bekka with her thick blonde hair and baby blue eyes and had barely been able to speak. I should have known then that he wasn’t right for me. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe…

The maybe flew from my head as I heard a knock on the door to my apartment. “Who is it?” I yelled through the door even though I was pretty sure I knew who it was.

“Delivery!”

I knew that voice. I heard it almost everyday at work in the cubicle behind mine. “Get in here,” I said, opening the door and dragging Nicky in. “What are you delivering?” I asked, the sound of lust in my voice could have either been for the food in his hands or for the hands holding the food. Both were lust worthy.

Nicholas Evans, six feet two inches of pure male, he preyed on my mind and my libido on a regular basis. But try to get him to realize that. I sighed, wishing that I could be more like my pretty sister Bekka, with her confidence and her fashion sense. Instead, I got the Irish in the family. Red hair that held a lot of curl no matter how many times I tried to straighten it. Green eyes that always sparkled with a hint of deviltry, even after what Steven had done to me. A smattering of freckles were on my nose. They were my cute factor and a place every single man I’d ever dated had felt the need to kiss.

I was curvy instead of lithe and lean, holding onto about ten extra pounds that no amount of sit ups or runs at the track would get rid of. Where Bekka was model height and weight, I was the shortest in the family. Even Mara was taller than I was and she was the youngest in the family, still in school.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asked, holding the food above his head where he knew I couldn’t reach it. “Tell me and I’d be tempted to share.”