Their new home on Frederick Street in Clay Center, Kansas, was supposed to give writer Jonathan David and his husband, clinical psychologist Dr. Eddie Dorman, an opportunity to enjoy married life. Jonathan has just released his first major bestseller, and he hopes to finally escape his traumatic past and find the quiet existence he has always craved. Eddie has taken a job at the Kansas State University psychology department, and they intend to begin anew.
They have barely settled in when the nightmare begins. Noises, disembodied voices, and mysterious apparitions make Jonathan’s life hell. Part of the house has decided to bare its teeth, show its jagged edges, and bring back the worst of Jonathan’s past. At first, Eddie cannot perceive the spectral events and fears for his husband’s sanity. When he’s also affected by the haunting, he’s unsure of what to do but refuses to be beaten.
Together, they seek a way to fight the forces trying to tear them apart. The world is a frightening place, but confronting their fears plunges Jonathan and Eddie into absolute horror.
ALAN PEMBERLY woke up slowly, his head throbbing, and when he opened his eyes, he shut them again quickly as the fragile morning light in the room assaulted his senses. That was the first round of trying to figure out where he was. His mouth tasted like yesterday’s news, and his body ached. He coughed once, twice, three times, hard and raspy; his abdominal muscles cramped in protest. He placed one arm over his stomach in an attempt to soothe it as he rolled over onto his side. He reopened his eyes to the unfamiliar room; the stench of sweat, booze, and old sex lingered in the dusty, humid air.
Next to him, someone groaned and buried themself deeper into the blankets. Alan froze, racking his brain as to who it was and how Alan had come to be there. Then it all came back to him in a rush: he had been at a bar in San Francisco, drinking away his pain after his split with Tommy and the realization that the one who was supposed to love him more than anything, more than anyone, had cheated, and so Alan had gone out to find a cold bottle to drown his miseries. Their relationship had ended in a heated argument of accusations, both sides blaming the other for their shortfalls, and then the worst had happened, the death knell, the final nail in the coffin of their relationship: Tommy had struck him in the face. Even knowing what Alan had been through, Tommy had lost his temper and hit him, hard. Alan hadn’t uttered another word. He’d simply grabbed some clothes, a bag, some money and his checkbook off his dresser, and left. Now, as he scanned the unfamiliar room, looking for his clothes, he remembered how he had gotten there. He’d wandered the streets of the city, having left the apartment he and Tommy shared, and had found himself standing outside the bar that Tommy had started to frequent regularly while Alan was at work. In the misty darkness, he’d stared at the flashing yellow sign that read “The Copa” for what felt like hours as men wandered into the place, staring at him as they passed by.
Alan took stock of his current situation. The three years he’d spent in California hadn’t been good to him. His runaway love had run away from him, and now he was near broke and in bed with a man whose name escaped him. Oh, but the older man was a sweet-talker and had filled his ears with every word he wished Tommy had said. He had been so sympathetic, kind, and gentle, and the normally strong defenses Alan had to rebuff men’s advances crumbled at his feet. He’d ended up following the stranger back to this place. It looked like an office, and the bed was a hideaway pulled down from the wall. The brown paneling was stained dark, and there were several framed certificates on the wall along with pictures that Alan couldn’t quite bring into focus. He sat up as quietly as he could. His head was spinning, forcing him to shut his eyes once more and take a couple of deep breaths. As his head and stomach settled, no longer threatening to dispose of the alcohol he had consumed the night before, he pulled the thin blanket off his middle and stood up. The cool air in the room chilled his naked body.
I was born and raised in the city of Detroit where I graduated from high school. Afterward, I joined the military and now am a published author here at Dreamspinner Press. Married to the love of my life (John) who lets me write horror novels. I write about ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Well, the other things that go bump in the night. So, if you’re not too scared of the dark, check out my books, I’m sure you’ll like ’em.