QSFer F.E. Feeley has an MM paranormal book out:
While recovering from the recent loss of his parents, Daniel Donnelly receives a phone call from his estranged aunt, who turns over control of the family fortune and estate, Timber Manor. Though his father seemed guarded about the past, Daniel’s need for family and curiosity compel him to visit.
Located in a secluded area of the Northwest, Timber Manor has grown silent over the years. Her halls sit empty and a thin layer of dust adorns the sheet-covered furniture. When Daniel arrives to begin repairs, strange things happen. Nightmares haunt his dreams. Memories not his own disturb his waking hours. Alive with the tragedies of the past, Timber Manor threatens to tear Daniel apart.
Sheriff Hale Davis grew up working on the manor grounds. Seeing Daniel struggle, he vows protect the young man who captured his heart, and help him solve the mystery behind the haunting and confront the past-not only to save Daniel’s life, but to save his family, whose very souls hang in the balance.
THE RAIN pounded down on the cab of the truck, the wiper blades furiously working to no avail as my truck crept down the darkened forest road. I felt like I was driving underwater, deep in some forgotten sea. The music on the radio was barely a whisper, as I had the volume turned almost completely down; I held the steering wheel in a viselike grip, trying to see more than ten feet in front of me. The heater was cranked up on high to keep the windows from fogging up, and sweat trickled down the side of my face. I couldn’t tell whether it was from the heat or from the fear tightening my gut. It was probably a combination of both.
Lightning danced across the sky, instantly followed by a peal of thunder that shook the world around me and caused me to yelp involuntarily and duck my head as I took my foot off the gas. My heart leaped into my throat as the thunder rumbled like a cranky dragon awakening from a deep slumber to find his treasure gone.
I had slowed the truck to a near crawl almost ten miles back when the torrential rains began. The two thousand or so miles from Texas had passed pretty well without incident, and I’d made very good time as I traversed hell’s half acre. Now it felt like I was not moving at all, and I could barely make out the road in front of me. No cars passed me coming from the other direction, and nobody came up behind me. I was alone and isolated, as if the rest of the world had disappeared and all that existed was me and my old Chevy truck. Those thoughts didn’t help the panic that was building.
Shall I pull over and wait the rain out? Or keep going until I find a gas station to pull in to?
I didn’t like the situation at all; this was how horror novels started, or some slasher movie. Some maniac wielding a knife or some other sharp weapon would come hurtling out of the woods or maybe appear at Billy Bob’s gas station. You know, one of those rusted old out-of-the-way service stations no one has seen in forever.
The subject of the 1980s and 1990s horror flicks began to flash in my mind as well as each serial killer: Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers… and who could forget the ghost-face killer in Scream? And of course that didn’t account for the demon in The Stand, the ghosts in The Shining, or the werewolf in Silver Bullet. These movies were all part of my personal collection back home, their memory mocking me with sinister ease.
My throat was dry and begging for a drink; my eyes were strained and grainy from staring out into the night as rain sloshed my windshield, and my headlights peered into the darkness in a sad attempt to guide me to my destination.
How do I get myself into these situations?
A few nights ago, I’d been sitting at a campus bar with some of my friends, lamenting the end of the semester, and now here I was, wishing I were back in my dorm room surrounded by my belongings, homework, and familiarity, which were so far away. But that was before receiving the terrible news that flipped my entire world upside down.
Before that phone call, I was a college student ready to take on the world with a killer smile, a hot body, purposefully shaggy, unkempt hair, and a college degree. After the phone call, a visit to the morgue, and seven days of walking around in a stupor barely eating and hardly sleeping, unsure of what I’d signed or who I’d spoken to, I got into my truck and left it all behind me.
Now I was out in butt-fucked who-knows-where trying to reach my estranged aunt’s house, where I would stay for the summer.