memory
—because it was too awful. “I was asleep on the couch,” she whispered. Already her eyelids felt heavy.
He nodded as he stroked her cheek. “You were asleep,” he softly assured her. “It was just a bad dream. Nothing more.”
Once she was asleep, he carefully untangled himself from her and hurried to the kitchen. He found the knife on the floor, where she’d dropped it. He returned it to the butcher’s block and quickly put up the other things. When he felt the kitchen looked right, he checked on her one more time before returning to Atlanta.
He quickly poured himself a tall glass of bourbon, downed it. As his own heart rate slowed, he cursed himself for her distress. He’d been dreaming about that horrible afternoon, didn’t realize exactly how strongly until he heard Kal’s screams.
She was too strongly attuned to him. It was his own fault. He’d have to be more careful in the future.
He finished that glass and started another.
* * * *
Kal awoke on the couch a little before ten, feeling woozy and…
She sat up with a start.
Her stomach grumbled. But hadn’t she…
She shivered. She’d fallen asleep on the couch. That was a soothing thought. A comfortable thought.
She walked into the kitchen and decided on a salad instead of leftovers. As she pulled the salad fixings out of the fridge, she hesitated. The butcher’s knife was in the block with the rest, but she could have sworn…
Kal shook her head to clear it.
I fell asleep on the couch.
She touched her amulet before reaching for the knife and drawing it from the butcher’s block. As she examined the knife in her hand, she reached up with her other hand to touch her neck and felt her uninjured flesh.
I felt…
I fell asleep on the couch.
She dropped the butcher’s knife into the sink and grabbed the bread knife, humming a quiet, soothing little tune as she quickly sliced the tomato and made the salad in record time. She didn’t want to think anymore. She wanted to eat and go to bed and dream pleasant things.
Happy things.
And she definitely didn’t want to think about the memory of the sword’s steel splitting her flesh as the horrible creature took her head off.
About Lesli Richardson
http://www.lyricalpress.com/lesli_richardson
Lesli Richardson is a snarky, stubborn, Taurus writer. She’s a native Floridian and life-long resident of the state (making her an endangered species). As of this writing, she has never seen “real” snow. “Writer” isn’t what she does—it’s what she is. She put pen to paper as a child and has been scribbling ever since. (Just try to stop her, go ahead, we dare you.)
Because of her love for her home state, it often plays a silent character in her writings. Preferring to listen to the little voices in her head, you will rarely find her outlining her fiction in any detailed sort of way. Definitely a “pantster” kind of plotter. She will follow the characters and the stories they wish to tell rather than forcing them into whatever plotline she might wish they’d agree to. This can sometimes produce results that surprise the hell out of her.
She lives in southwest Florida with her husband, son, and a houseful of neurotic, misfit animals of various species. Rumor has it she’s been known to write *ahem* racier bestsellers under the pen name Tymber Dalton. (Please don’t tell her mother.)
Lesli’s Website:
http://leslirichardson.com/
Reader eMail:
[email protected]
About the Good Will Ghost Hunting Series
Book I: Demon Seed
Available in ebook from Lyrical Press
Book II: Hell’s Bells
Available in ebook from Lyrical Press
Book III: Hell Hath No Fury
Coming soon to ebook from Lyrical Press
Book IV: Road to Hell
Coming soon to ebook from Lyrical Press
Book V: Hell on Earth
Coming soon to ebook from Lyrical Press
Book VI: Between Hell and Heaven
Coming soon to ebook from Lyrical Press
More from Lyrical Press
Where reality and fantasy collide
Ready for more?
Visit any of the following links:
Lyrical Press
http://lyricalpress.com
New Releases
http://www.lyricalpress.com/newest_releases
Coming Soon
http://www.lyricalpress.com/coming_soon
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