It’s an interesting experience, rushing headlong through the woods after dark. The trees and bushes scratch me like they’re trying to and it’s a wonder I haven’t slammed into anything solid enough to break bones.
Ugh, it’s hard to breathe, probably because of the Goliath-sized arm clamped around my waist. I didn’t ask to be carried, but the monster doesn’t care. I wonder if the ride would be more comfortable slung over its shoulder.
And honestly, all this for a rose? It was nobody’s, growing by the pathside!
Hey, light… some sort of building up ahead—stone, maybe. Medieval, with a giant gateway and courtyard.
Wait, medieval in Colorado? Nearly as weird as a tabloid! But the building has to be medieval—torchlight, stone walls, a tapestry with more square feet than my family’s house. Well, at least I’m out of the trees.
I wish I could take a better look at those tapestries…. No, what I’d really like is to be home hot tea and some Robert Frost. Goodness, at this point I’d take reading Poe alone on a stormy night with no electricity!
Well, maybe not Poe, but I think you know what I mean.
The monster stops at the top of the stairs. I can see some swords on the wall, stained glass windows, carpets on the stone floors.
A tall man in a long coat walks over to me. "So this is my rose thief, yes?"
I glance up at him. Dark hair, impossibly good-looking, and fangs. Vampire fangs.
I drop my head. How in God's name did I get trapped inside a crummy romance novel?
Opening: _*Rachel*_.....Continuation: Khazar-khum