Last night was the first time I effectively freaked myself out while working on my upcoming paranormal thriller novel. Here’s a bit of why… (Also note: I try to post bits and pieces of what I’m working on in my facebook page as well as the M. B. Weston’s Treetop Inn Group, so please feel free to follow and join.)
Please note: this has not yet been edited, and it probably contains a few mistakes and style flaws.
Abby ran grabbed her purse, ran out the door, and hopped in her car. She buckled her seat belt and turned the key in the ignition.
The car wouldn’t start.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Abby banged her hand on the dashboard. She could not afford to be late for work again.
The wind picked up and swirled around the house and her car. A chill traveled down Abby’s neck, over her shoulders and across her arms. She heard something else—something that sounded like wind but wasn’t wind.
Breath that was not her own.
Breath directly behind her.
Abby’s glanced at the rear-view mirror without moving her head. She could barely make out the dark silhouette of someone sitting in the backseat of her car.
Abby started to tremble. She wouldn’t have time to unbuckle her seat belt and get out of the car before he attacked, and her phone was trapped beneath all the items in her purse.
The wind increased speed, churning up leaves and debris around her vehicle. The branches in the tree overhead began to creak. One of its branches broke off and fell, scraping the left side of the car.
Hot breath hit the back of her neck. Through the howl of the wind, Abby heard a low, loud, unearthly voice that sounded almost like a growl.
“You belong to me.”
With that, the wind stopped. Leaves and branches fell on top of Abby’s car and over the lawn. Abby glanced at the rear-view mirror. The backseat was clear.
She leaned against the steering wheel gasping for air. What had just happened—especially with the wind? And how could her imagination have conjured up something like that?
Abby pulled herself together, put her key in the ignition, and turned it. The car started, and she heaved a sigh. She turned around to take one last look at the backseat to make sure she was safe.
Her veins filled with ice.
Written in the condensation of her rear window were the words, Your day of reckoning will come. They were written from inside the car.
In actuality, that isn’t the part that freaked me out. It happened when she drove out of the driveway and saw him standing on her lawn…
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Fantasy, steampunk, and paranormal novelist M. B. Weston is the author of The Elysian Chronicles, a fantasy series about guardian angel warfare and treason. Weston is also the hose of The Final Cut In Movies radio show that airs on TMV Cafe Monday nights at 8:00 EST. For more information on M. B. Weston, visit www.mbweston.com. To receive notification of M. B. Weston’s book releases click here to subscribe to Dark Oak Press & Media’s e-newsletter.