I live in a house with ghosts. I’m not crazy. I’m completely certain I feel them, and this house has a history of violent deaths. No way am I crazy for believing in the ghosts.
But maybe I’m not a hundred percent sane either. After all, I choose to live in a ghost house. I haven’t slept in a bed in years because I feel as if the spirits won’t haunt my dreams when I’m downstairs versus in a bedroom.
I had a chance to get away from Shasta and the haunted Victorian-style house. I only moved to this stinky town to follow my little brother, Shane. Since my baby bruv was born, I’ve taken my big sister responsibilities very seriously. Sure, Shane’s currently a large man with aggressive tendencies. Though I’m handy with a rifle, I can’t do much to keep him physically safe. Instead, Shane needs me to care for his tender heart and his often-overwhelmed brain. My sweet little bro sometimes can’t understand how the world won’t revolve around him or bend to his usually very impressive will.
That’s why I moved to Shasta despite a nearby rendering plant leaving the town smelling like death. I even overlooked the haunted house we bought. I would do nearly anything for my brother. Yet I cut him loose when I learned a teenage girl—who lived in this very house—had disappeared years ago. Did her parents kill Violet and hide her body in the walls or the backyard? Or did a local serial killer—aka the Shasta Slasher—grab the sixteen-year-old off the streets? There’s no way to know her fate. The local police are idiots, and her parents died in a murder-suicide in this house. Is she the presence I feel at night? Or is it her parents? Or one of the other people who died in this hundred-year-old house from overdose and suicide?
When I learned Violet Navarro was last seen right outside this house, I got the fuck out of Shasta. This town was too violent for me. And I grew up around stone-cold killers. My father is an enforcer in the Reapers Motorcycle Club in Ellsberg. I bet he’s killed plenty of people. If he hasn’t, the other men that I knew as “uncles” certainly fucked up a ton of assholes. My own baby bruv and our best friend, River Majors, have killed many men. Even I’ve spilled blood for the club.
But our kind of killing isn’t the sort that befell poor Violet. The Reapers destroy bad guys. The type of violence that happened in Shasta—including in the very house I call home—was too dark for even a horror-movie fiend like me.
That’s why I bailed. I was never coming back. My brother and his new love—Ramona Verhees—could visit me in the much safer redneck paradise of Ellsberg. Nope, I was officially out. No more ghosts or that awful smell. I was ditching my friends—the Fearsome Foursome, aka Shane, River, Taylor, and me—and living a quieter life with my mom and dad.
That was the plan anyway. Yet once my brother’s super sperm claimed Ramona’s rocker girl egg, I had no choice except to return to Shasta. Being an aunt superseded my fear of serial killers and ghosts. My nephew needed me up close and personal in his life. While Shane and Ramona are great parents, nothing quite compares to the power of a doting aunt.
That’s why I returned to a town I hate, and it’s why I’ll remain here. I still feel the ghosts, and I plan to track down that serial killer. Weird? Sure. Delusional? No doubt, but I can’t change who I am.
When I set my mind to something, I can’t let go. That’s why I remain absolutely captivated by a horrible, rude fuck-face of a man who probably owns a dick so massive that it affects the planet’s gravitational pull.
Oh, my, Goliath isn’t a pleasant person. I ought to forget about him. But the rugged fucker owns a handsome mug, and there’s no denying his nearly seven-foot-tall body is smoking. I want to believe my feelings are simple lust. Not my fault, really. I’m just very, very horny after twenty-seven years without getting any sugar. If I can ride his dick for a few wild vrooms, I’m sure I’ll be fine. In fact, I’m uncertain my feelings are even lust. I could literally just be bored or lonely.
Because everyone I know is dripping with syrupy-sweet love—Shane and Ramona, River and his woman,