copyright 2006 Faith Bicknell-Brown
Publisher Freya's Bower
exerpt from FURY HOLLOW
She watched him light a cigarette; the match’s flame cast an eerie glow over his handsome features. “Do you live close by?” asked Hannah
He scooted closer to her, the moss-covered log to their backs. “Close enough. I’m visiting a friend. Her husband disappeared about six months ago.”
She nodded. “You mean Jed Fasher.”
“He vanished in this hollow coming home from work one night.” The moonlight illuminated Vengey’s eyes, prompting an odd flash of scarlet. “Doesn’t it frighten you to walk through here after dark?”
“No,” she whispered. Her heart thumped from a strange anticipation. “I’ve lived in this area my entire life.”
He was so close she could smell him, a curious combination of dry leaves and wood smoke. Quickly, he moved against her, invading her personal space, but Hannah didn’t mind; it excited her. Vengey caressed her cheek, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair framing her face.
The stranger kissed her deeply, causing her to go weak and her insides to flame with eager warmth. Briefly, Hannah wondered how he had managed to remove her clothes, and realized she didn’t remember Vengey shedding his own. He kneaded her breasts; kissing and touching her in ways she only dreamed of during lonely nights watching clouds cross the sky from her bedroom window. Sometimes she imagined a beautiful lover in those fleeting clouds. It appeared that her lover was no longer a dream.
He entered her and there was a brief, ripping pain, then the world exploded around her. Hannah screamed and bucked, her pleasure bordering on insanity and it seemed to her that the ground trembled and the trees overhead burned. She felt as though she was on fire as well. The sweat dripped unheeded from her body and she bled profusely, but Vengey continued to ride her, his sounds of delectation animal-like as they moved together in a hard, hurried rhythm amongst a thick pool of blood.
Then dawn arrived, the bloody sky mirroring the ground.
Vengey rolled off her and sat back against a tree, his body streaked and spattered with gore. He regarded Hannah with unmitigated satisfaction.
“You were delicious,” he remarked. “I believe I shall keep you.”
A low, keening howl echoed down from the top of the hill by Mammy’s house. Hannah looked up to see Josephine hurrying down the path behind her grandmother.
As she pounded across the meadow, Mammy’s black hair streamed behind her like a banner. The St. Bernard stayed close on her heels.
She fell at Hannah’s side, sobbing.
“Oh, child! What have you done?”
Trying to pull her blouse over her sticky, crimson form, Hannah realized something was horribly wrong.
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