#MySexySaturday (14)

Week 64 and we are all about the thrillers, the zombie apocalypses, the clowns peeking out of the overflow drainage grate.

Now I don’t have a thriller, even if my first Moonlit Wolves book was describes as “A thriller that turned into mating ritual” but I do have a horror story coming out sometime this month.

I know this isn’t a romance, but it’s only just over 6K, and much more about metal health than anything else, so please don’t push it aside just because it’s not got the emotions a romance holds, it does. That’s all this book is *smiles*

So, nothing sexy, but it’s the closest thing I have to thriller at the moment, so this is all I can give you.

 

She landed like, well, what you’d expect a person to look like when they’d fallen down the stairs. There wasn’t any blood. In all honesty, I stood there waiting for her to get up. Waiting for a moment when she’d roll over, and all would be well.

It didn’t happen.

Laughter had me looking at the top of the stairs but there wasn’t anyone there. I shook my head; I was hearing things. I puffed a nervous laugh before looking back towards the bottom, the girl. Maybe it didn’t actually happen. My head hurt like a bitch. Maybe it had all been a dream.

She was still there, only this time the guy was crouching over her, his fingers in her hair as he twisted it around. He looked up at me, and I nearly screamed; the only reason I didn’t was because I’d stopped breathing.

He laughed; it scraped against my brain, stabbed at my head, and had cold sweat building up along my spine.

Turning my back, I grabbed the rail and pulled myself up the stairs. I didn’t care where I was going, didn’t care that I was meant to find my room, somewhere to lock myself up in, to hide. I just wanted out. Just wanted away from him. Please let me get away from him. 

And onto the pimping and other random fact linked to this hop

Running Scared

You always say you’d stand and fight, but when you witness the death of your loved ones, are you sure your feet won’t take off and lead you on a merry-go-round?

Witnessing the murder of my family had me on the run. I didn’t know where I was going, or why I was left standing, but that didn’t stop my flight instinct from kicking in. I ran, screaming, but he found me, and now I’m trapped in a hotel with a madman. What does he want from me and am I going to survive long enough to find out?

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 I’m grateful for your click, and I sincerely hope you’ll come around next week.