As always, I would love to hear your comments, suggestions, and whether or not you are looking forward to reading the whole novel. This is my baby, but as any mother will tell you, there is always room for improvement. Plus I love hearing from people who leave a comment of question. So feel free, and those of you that have never commented, I would love yours too. It's okay, no one will laugh and if they do, you won't know about it, so come on, take a chance...you can do it!
This is from chapter one, and yes it still needs revisions, but it's a fun part of the chapter. Stevie had thought she heard someone in the house so she set out to investigate. After seeing that there is no one there, but still a little jumpy she decides to head back to the kitchen. enjoy.
Feeling less frightened and a bit foolish, Stevie headed toward the kitchen, and the light. As she passed her mom’s office, the sound returned. She froze in front of the closed door and put her ear to the smooth pine. The source of the clinking was in there. Stevie reached for the handle and halted. Isn’t this where the girl gets killed in the movie?
She raced back into the kitchen, dropped her knife on the counter, and snatched the phone, fingers clumsily pushing the buttons. Please answer, she pleaded wordlessly, but instead of her mom’s voice she heard only one ring following another.
She hung up without leaving a message and tried to call Jack, but stopped short at the sight of headlights reflected in the front hall mirror. Phone in one hand, knife in the other, she crept down the hall to the front entrance. Tonka must have sensed the fear; she stalked behind Stevie, nose pressing against the back of Stevie’s legs. The long window flanking the door was beveled, obscuring her view of the vehicle and making it impossible to tell if the headlights were from her mother’s SUV.
Gripping the phone in her teeth, Stevie turned the deadbolt, and moved out of view from the side window, the butcher knife clutched tightly to her chest, listening for movement on the porch. The knob turned left then right, followed by a knock.
“Stevie, can we talk?”
She nearly fainted from relief at the sound of Jack’s voice. The phone fell to the floor and it took two attempts to free the lock; her hand was shaking so badly. She swung open the door, arms outstretched to embrace him. “Oh, thank God it’s you, Jack…” Stevie cried, completely forgetting about the deadly blade in her hand.
Jack’s green eyes opened wide as saucers, and he stumbled away from the butcher knife into the screen door, slamming it hard against the frame. “What the heck…Stevie, what’s with the knife? I know you’re mad, but I’m not worth a murder charge.”
“Jack, I’m so sorry. It’s just . . .” Stevie’s arms dropped to her side. The adrenalin was subsiding and with it her strength. She headed for the stairs, needing a place to sit down before she collapsed. This time, Stevie remembered to flip on the hall light as she passed. Easing onto the third stair, but keeping the blade within easy reach, she watched Jack approach and stand silently in front of her.
“There was some man out back in a tree earlier and I was freaking out…then I heard noises inside the house.” She threw both her hands up to her face, and then through her long thick hair.
“The man was in the back yard,” she called to Jack as he marched into the cavernous kitchen, and to the sliding door. Holding the blinds back with one hand, her friend-turned-guardian glanced briefly through the glass. The slats rattled back into place when they were released.
“Stevie,” he asked, retrieving a phone from his pocket. “You want me to call the cops?”
Stevie had followed him as far as the kitchen table, keeping it between her and the door. “I don’t think you need to, Jack—I think he’s gone, he disappeared once he saw me.”
“Are you sure he’s gone? You said you heard noises in the house.” Jack stuck his phone back in his pocket, crossed to the refrigerator, and grabbed a soda. He held it up toward Stevie, who shook her head. “And where’s your Mom, by the way? She go out or something?”
“I don’t think she’s been home, but she didn’t say she would be late and she hasn’t called.”
A horrible image of her mom being attacked and lying injured, assaulted Stevie’s thoughts. Jack must have seen it on her face. He rushed to her side, spilling soda all over the floor.
“Stevie. What is it?”
“Jack, the noises I heard came from behind the door of Mom’s office. You don’t think…?”
“Nah, I’m sure it’s nothin’.” Jack sat the root beer can on the table, wiping the front and backs his hands on his jeans. “I’ll go see. You want me to check under your bed, too?”
Stevie punched him in the arm as he walked by. Still shaken, she was unable to stay alone in the kitchen, and reluctantly shadowed her friend. Jack slowly opened the office door. The rusted hinges creaked softly, and he turned his head toward her, lifting one eyebrow. Stevie mouthed angrily, “That wasn’t the sound.”
Jack slipped his arm into the dark; a light flickered on, illuminating Jack’s face with a sickly incandescent glow. He froze. His eyes opened wide, and he was jerked halfway to the room screaming. Stevie screamed too, and lunged for her friend, grabbing him by the waist to pull him back. What she managed to retrieve was a tall, wiry, teenager with tears of laughter streaming from his eyes.
“Damn you, Jack,” Stevie said, pushing past him into the room. With the bright overhead now on, the source of the clinking sound was clear. Her mother had hung a wind chime next to the opened office window. “I swear that’s new.” She pointed at the chime.
“Anything you say, baby doll.” Jack smirked and reached for the latch. “There you go. I have vanquished your foes, my lady, with nary an injury.”
“That’s not funny, Jack. There were prowlers in my yard and you’re making jokes.” Stevie led the way back to the kitchen and plopped down on one of the breakfast bar stools.
“Just kiddin’, Stevie. You’re just too easy. Okay, serious now…So what did this guy look like? Did he come after you?”
Stevie roughly shrugged his hand off her shoulder, but decided to answer. “No, he was just standing on the branch with Tonka jumping up and barking away. I don’t know, maybe Tonka scared him. I really couldn’t get a good look at him, I don’t even know for sure it was a ‘him’, it was too dark. Well, except for the glowing blue eyes…”
“The what? Stevie, are you punking me?” Jack moved to the other side of the counter, forearms resting on the cool granite surface as he leaned closer to her.
“No, Jack—would I stand behind the door with a butcher knife as a joke? Yeah, well, you might. But me? Hell no. Yes, his eyes glowed…”
“Maybe you were staring at the moon and when you looked away; you still had an image in your eyes. You know, like when someone takes a flash picture and you see spots.”
“Then Tonka must have been seeing the same spots. She was practically climbing up the trunk.”
“But glowing eyes?” Jack paused. “Maybe he had a flashlight up next to his face and was shining it out?”
“I guess that could be, but why a blue bulb in it?”
“Blue? You’re sure?”
“Yeah, it turned Tonka green.”
“Jack, listen to me. His eyes glowed blue…you don’t think that’s frickin’ weird?”
I hope you enjoy and I look forward to your comments!
Love ya, Lisa