And here’s how it works. There are 2 spooky YA stories being told in 13 parts. Each part is written by a different author (some currently published, some aspiring) and posted on a different blog. At the end of each story, you will have a chance to enter to win a prize pack (there is one for each story and a separate one that’s open internationally). To be eligible to win that story’s prize pack, you must comment on each part of the story. There will also be Trick or Treats along the way for more chances to win! For all the rules, the full rundown of all the goodness as well as a list of all the story stops, click HERE.
Tonya slammed the car door with her hip. The stack of library books in her arms started to slide. She shifted and juggled, but they hit the ground with a sickening thud. She swore loudly then stooped to pick them up.
Damn him. It’s all his fault.
He was the reason she’d checked them out – to see what he’d found so interesting. They were old musty tomes on witchcraft and vampire lore. The pages were yellowed and torn, the covers ripped and the cover text barely readable.
The books deserved respectful, careful handling – better than what they received from her. Thoughts of magical retribution skittered through her mind, but she immediately dismissed them. She didn’t believe in magic; she was too practical for that. If she did, she might worry.
The man was there again today. She snuck through the door, trying to blend in as she moved. He probably wasn’t looking for her but he was waiting for someone. Twice a week for the past six weeks, the intense, serious man about her age had come to the library, always sitting at the table farthest from the door. He wasn’t handsome in the classic sense, but his face showed character, strength. And his eyes drew her in. So dark – almost black – they seemed to burn right through to her soul. She shivered just thinking about them.
“He’s here again,” the older woman said. She looked up from the computer at Tonya. “What does he want?”
She was going to talk to him this morning, maybe invite him to a Halloween party. She worked up the nerve over the last few weeks, but this morning on her way to work, she’d spilled coffee on her blouse over her right breast. She’d wiped at it furiously and only succeeded in spreading the stain. She wasn’t going to talk to him today—she’d only ventured out of the office with a book large enough to hold inconspicuously over her chest.
“I’m going to lunch,” the old woman said. “Someone needs to find out what he wants.”
Tonya knew she was the someone. She took a gulp and walked toward him, not even grabbing a book to shield her stain. She glanced toward his table and she sucked in her breath. He was staring so hard in her direction there were tiny creases between his brows, and his eyes were narrow slits. Power rolled off him in palpable waves.
She’d glanced around to see if he might be looking at someone else, but everyone had left and she was alone with him.
Completely, totally alone.
Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard.
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