Hello Friends! Al here with the much awaited preview of the book I’ve been working on. I know I’ve been promising this for awhile now since reviews have been coming in for The Devil Went Down on Georgia, but the transition from fall to winter is always difficult for a cryptid that lives in a dank, cold, abandoned trailer in the middle of nowhere.
Believe it or not, even unholy creatures like myself suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. We need our little sunlight lamps and boosts of 5htp and/or Saint John’s Wort just like your average human. Though, even with these small boosts in artificial joy, it’s hard to make things happen. Winter is traditionally a time of rest and reflection, and I hope none of you ever feel guilty for using this time to do just that. The world we live in has been promoting the idea that if you’re not being productive at all times, you are a failure and I am here to say: you are absolutely not. Did you get out of bed this morning and put on some pants? Well then you have succeeded in something. Did you make yourself breakfast, even if it was just a bowl of high-sugar cereal? Good job. Are you taking care of yourself and doing things you love, like playing the newest monster collecting game? I’m proud of you.
It is okay to do nothing. It is okay to not be a lean, mean, productive machine, because you’re not a machine. You are an immortal soul trapped in this hellscape for an undetermined yet finite amount of years. You should enjoy that in whatever way you feel like (as long as that does not hinge on hurting others). So, without further ado, here’s the preview. I’ve taken part of a chapter from the near beginning of the book as this seems to be the most put-together so far. I have a lot of editing to do in post to polish this into something I want everyone to see. I’m going to purposefully leave this vague to tantalize your literary taste buds and leave you questioning exactly what happened and why, but for a small summary, the main character is Elise. She’s a gym rat and a personal trainer who failed to enroll into the police academy and has had a thirst for heroism ever since. She becomes a private investigator (not unlike a feminine version of Thomas Magnum with a station wagon instead of a convertible) to try and satiate her need to save someone, and ends up with a false lead that brings a handsome, glitter thong-clad stranger into her home (which is basically an apartment above her dad’s garage). Chapter 7 takes place the day after their encounter:
Elise was 25 when her life took a strange turn. She woke up groggy that October morning, in the same bed she had occupied for years… Only, it didn’t feel like the same bed. It didn’t smell like the same bed. Maybe now it wasn’t really the same bed.
The fact that she was groggy was strange. Ever since she started her routine she’d never really woken up feeling like a hot mess. This wasn’t like when she was sick. She just felt weary. Her eyes turned to the empty shaker bottle on her nightstand before she reluctantly sat up.
Her internal clock had always been on point, which meant 5:30am was ingrained into her very being. Yet, somehow, her phone said 6. She had slept in.
“What the fuck…” She groaned, her own voice unrecognizable. Elise’s feet kicked out from under the covers, and when she stood, her eyes grazed over the desk on her way to the bathroom.
She stopped and did a double-take.
Memories of last night came flooding back at full force. The kiss, the touches, the…
As if running from a predator, she beat feet into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She knew on some level that there was no running from her thoughts but there was an attempt if nothing else. She just had to get back into her routine, that’s all. There was safety in the familiar. She’d go on her jog and that would clear her mind. There was work to do today and she didn’t need to be thinking about all of that.
Only, something glittered in her periphery.
A sparkling thong was what caught her eye, hanging off the bathroom faucet like it was purposefully put there. It was as if Klyde said ‘better leave a souvenir behind’ or something like that. It really made Elise wonder.
Klyde had been a stripper who was paid to be here. Thanks to some misconceptions and negligence on her part, he ended up staying much longer than he should’ve. He felt like he owed her something, so he uh… Serviced her; not unlike a car engine.
That was it, right? That was all there was to it?
She managed to tear her eyes away from the thong, only to catch her own glance in the mirror.
What was that on her neck?
There were little flakes of dried blood around 2 circular marks. They looked irritated. Had she gotten symmetrical acne on her neck and picked at it without thinking? It wasn’t impossible. The most likely culprit, even. It didn’t really feel like acne, though.
Like everything else from the previous day, she didn’t have much time to ponder it. She was behind on her routine and she needed to jump on it if she hoped to salvage the day.
Getting dressed and everything that followed just felt off. Elise hadn’t realized just how much she had become a creature of habit until those habits were set askew. It was like someone had thrown a stick in the spoke of her bike wheel while she was minding her own business and she had yet to figure out why the bike refused to go forward again. Her morning jog was full of narrowly dodging other people due to distracted thoughts, breakfast felt lacking for some reason, and she’d come back to her desk to discover some of the papers were water damaged from a certain… Used device… Daintily laid on top of them.
And that brought the thoughts back all over again.
Klyde had said some casual things that gave her an unwanted introspective pause. Was she really satisfied with her life? Despite finally getting to a point where there was a potential for her only goal to come to fruition, is that really all she wanted? What after? What if she did become the hero she had always dreamt of? What came after that?
She didn’t really know.
After her run and unfortunate discovery, she decided to shower so she could conduct her first search for information over Emily’s disappearance. Some of the more recent numbers were easily traceable and she had a good starter list of places to visit. It also might serve her to go pick up some new business casual clothes that actually fit.
There was a surprise waiting for her when she stepped out from behind the curtain on the mirror. Someone (she knew who) had written ‘What’s cookin’ good lookin’?’ on her mirror while the bathroom was steamy. It was like Klyde was there all over again and while it made her blush, it also managed to elicit a small smile.
Which was followed by an ‘oh shit’ expression of realization.
She wanted to see him again.
Her mind wandered to the moment he had told her his hours at work, and she wondered if that had meant he wanted to see her too.
But what if that was just a way to bait her? What if he only wanted a new client of his own?
What if all of that had just been for show?
Elise thought back to the boys at her high school as she got dressed; how they had tried to trick her into thinking they had feelings for her… And it made her mad.
Was that his game? Was that the trick? Seduce some lonely (was she lonely?) woman into thinking you wanted something more than a couple of tips? Well, that wasn’t going to be her. She didn’t need anyone, and she especially didn’t need a stripper.
As Elise prepared to leave, she sent Harriet a text message and asked for a picture of her daughter, just in case she needed it. This of course began a flurry of picture messages that bogged down her phone to yet slower speeds. Maybe after this case she should consider retiring old reliable for something better.
It seemed like she needed a lot of things, now that she was thinking about it.
The thought almost traveled back to the things Klyde had said, but she managed to stop herself as she grabbed the car keys, the fat wad of cash, and her notes. Even if this didn’t turn up any leads, she still had another stack of numbers and some text logs to comb through.
The garage door opened and she started to back out, but a face in the rearview made her pause. She slammed on the breaks and watched as her father, who had most likely been pruning the shrubs along the drive, walked up to the driver’s side door.
Elise reluctantly rolled down the window, unsure of how this interaction would go. “Hey Dad, I can’t really chat, I’m running a little behind today.”
“I’ll only be a moment.” Mr. Melrose smiled nervously. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for bothering you yesterday. I didn’t realize you had ah… Company.”
“Yeah, about that-” Elise tried to interrupt, but her father gestured for her to stop.
“No, you don’t have to explain. You’re 25, Elise. Once I got to thinking about it… I was really glad, actually. I know most fathers like to threaten men who want to take their daughters away but… I was glad that someone made it past that barrier you put up. Even if it’s just temporary.”
Elise stared at her father, unable to think of a single thing to say. Had she been a concern for him all this time without ever realizing it? “Dad…”
“Your Mom wouldn’t want you to go at it alone either, Elise. I know we don’t like to talk about her because it’s hard, but… I know she’d say you deserve to pursue happiness too. Life’s not just about working hard.”
Elise clammed up the moment she heard her father speak of her mother. Her icy stare found the dashboard and tried to focus all her pain and all of her regret there.
“It’s not your fault that-”
“I’ve really gotta go, Dad. I’ll fill the car up before I get home, okay?” This time her voice was adamant that this conversation did not need to continue.
Don’s smile wavered for a moment before he patted the door of the car and backed up. “Alright. I love you, be safe.”
“Love you too.” She said quickly and hit the button to add that transparent barrier between them once again. It wasn’t the only barrier there, but the mental barrier was far stronger than the glass could ever hope to be.
Blood and Key Lime Pie Chapter 7: A Snake in Eden
Aloyster Crowlay 