It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...Chapter 11 by Christine Johnson

Wild thoughts careened through Ellie's head as she tumbled forward. Hadn't Scarlett fallen down the stairs in Gone With the Wind? Shouldn't her life pass before her eyes? Why, oh why had she accepted the invitation? Yes, it was a great chance to wear her new Louboutins and meet a single man, but any other party had to be safer.

The house. That's why she'd come here. She had to see inside the house. Dumb idea. Didn't curiosity kill the cat?

At least her screams drowned out the other shrieks.

Ouch! Her behind bounced off a step, and she was surprised it didn't hurt. The steps must have a lot of padding under the carpet. Her fingers grazed the bannister, but her momentum carried her past before she could grab hold.

"Help-ee-elp-ee-elp!" Her shriek bounced with each step and came to an abrupt stop along with the rest of her when she struck a very solid, very warm and very much living object.

"Didn't I tell you to stay where you were?" JT pulled her to her feet. "You could have gotten hurt."

"I'm not hurt," she protested. Bruised ego, perhaps, but she'd slid more than fell. Her borrowed shoes hadn't even come off!

"Thank goodness you're all right." His arms pulled her so close that she could feel the frantic rhythm of his heart. He pressed his warm cheek to hers, the mask clearly discarded. "I would never have forgiven myself if anything happened to you, Ellie."

Now her heartrate accelerated. The way he clutched her and the ragged emotion that cracked his voice wiped away her irrational fear of noises in the dark and replaced it with the very real fear of what might have happened--and what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have moved."

"No, no, the fault is mine." If anything he held her closer. "Please understand, that's how Tracye lost her husband. He fell on a construction worksite, and he wasn't wearing his safety harness."

No wonder JT's sister didn't like the massive house with its sweeping staircase. It must remind her of her loss. "Then Mandy is...?"

"Their daughter. I tried to be a father to her, but she refused to listen to me."

Now her heart broke for him. "Most teenaged girls rebel, whether with their mom, their dad, or their uncle." That must have been the shoe-throwing phase. "But she turned out well. You said she's in the Peace Corps."

"In the Philippines. She is back in the States now, though, and was supposed to arrive home tonight, but her flight got grounded by the bad weather. Tracye's been upset ever since she got Mandy's call. When I heard Sis crying, I was afraid she'd gotten more bad news." He paused. "But that's no excuse. I should never have left you alone in the dark in a strange house. Can you ever forgive me?"

Ellie recalled the tenderness of his touch when he wiped her feet dry and placed the ruby slipper on her foot. With all that was going on in his family, he had gone to extraordinary lengths to help a woman he did not know. "Of course I do."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I promise not to leave your side the rest of the evening." His chocolatey rich vow wound around her heart as securely as his arm cradled her waist.

"Now that's a promise I'll hold you to."

"With pleasure."

A rumble of excitement started deep within and exploded when his expressive lips brushed against hers in the suddenly quiet darkness. Ellie wobbled on the unfamiliar shoes before he swept her off her feet and into his arms like Rhett Butler had done with Scarlett.

At that moment the lights flickered on, revealing they were just one step from the bottom of the staircase where...oh dear. A smattering of goblins, aka guests, gathered around Tracye, Mina and a couple of cats. One goblin hooted, then the rest joined in. That was the eerie shrieking she'd heard earlier, only now it sounded a lot more playful. How could she have been so silly?

Though heat suffused her cheeks, JT grinned widely and carried her down the remaining step.

Then he looked her in the eyes. "Your wish is my command, my scarlet-shoed princess. Just close your eyes, click your heels together three times, and whisper your heart's desire."

On a night like tonight, Ellie could believe anything possible. She closed her eyes and tapped her heels.

Click, click, click.

"There's no one like--"

JT's lips quieted her with a kiss that sent every fear scurrying into next year. The goblin hoots turned to cheers, but she could only think how wrong she'd been to doubt him. The kiss ended sweet as candy corn, with the promise of more. She opened her eyes to a smile that outshone the brightest lightning bolt.

"There's no one like you," they said in unison.

The End

It was a Dark and Stormy Night--Chapter Nine by Winne Griggs

“The Wizard Of Oz was my favorite childhood movie,” he explained with an adorably self-conscious grin.

No place like home, The Wizard Of Oz.  Of course. 

Her only excuse for being so slow on the uptake was that she was finding it difficult to think clearly with his hand still caressing her ankle.

Ellie pulled her foot back and stood.  The shoes were a perfect fit and quite yummy-looking on her feet.  “These high-heeled ruby ‘slippers’ are gorgeous, but it was Dorothy who wore them, not the witch.”  Hadn’t he noticed her black and white striped tights and the sweeping sleeves on her black dress.  Okay, it was only a token nod to wearing a witch costume, but there should be enough of a reference for him to get it.

JT stood up as well, but he still wore that boyish grin she found so attractive.  “Ah, but the Wicked Witch of the East had the shoes first.  Remember, Dorothy only received them after the house fell on the unfortunate spell-caster.”

“So I’m the Wicked Witch, am I?  Should I be on the look out for flying houses?”  This was certainly the right weather for it.

“Not on my watch."  He made an exaggerated bow.  "I shall personally guarantee your safety so long as you remain under my protection.”

The look he gave her as he said this made her toes try to curl just like the witch’s had just before they disappeared under the house. 

Then he extended his arm.  “Shall we go and greet the rest of my guests?”

The courtliness of the gesture enchanted her, but there was no need to let him know that.  She tossed her head and gave him her sauciest smile as she placed her candy-tipped nails on his sleeve.  “Lead the way.”

For the first time since she’d encountered JT, she felt confident and unafraid. 

That feeling lasted until they were half way down the elegant staircase.  Then the lights suddenly went out again and someone shrieked.  The hairs on Ellie’s neck stood on end at the other-worldly sound.  She instinctively moved closer to JT and tightened her hold on his arm.

Which was the only reason why, when an object came hurtling down the stairs, it missed her, but only by the merest of inches.

It was a Dark and Stormy Night--Halloween Serial Chapter Eight by Jolene Navarro

The hag glared at her, then shifted her narrowed stare to JT. “I have guests to take care of, baby brother. This is your mess to clean up. Come here, darling Mina.” She reached for the cat with hands that looked pampered and manicured. “We have people to entertain.”  The hag’s face softened as she cuddled the winged cat. “You are going to be a hit in your costume.”

Without another word, the hag turned her back and marched down the hall.

JT’s heavy sigh brought Ellie’s attention back to her rescuer. He shook his head, turning to her with a lopsided smile. His mesmerizing eyes looked a bit sad. “Sorry about that. Tracye is having a hard time letting Mandy go.”

She clapped a hand against her chest, sad for him. “I’m so sorry. Was she your—“

JT chuckled. “She’s not dead or anything. Just out of Tracye’s control. Darn girl had the nerve to grow up and get her own brain.” He flipped his cape over his shoulder, took her hand, and headed down the same hall where the hag had disappeared.

Turning the corner, she stopped, awed. A winding staircase straight out of Gone with the Wind appeared before them.  She glanced at him as he paused and looked back at her.

She pulled some words from her head. “Wow, it’s beautiful.” Okay, so not the most articulate thing to say.

He nodded and looked up toward the high ceilings. “When I saw it, I knew this was the house for me. And the sellers wanted to unload it, so I got it for a steal. Tracye’s still mad about it. It’s big, and not really all that practical, but it’s home.” He laughed, tugging on her hand. “Come on, we need to get to the shoes before they go on display.”

Watching his cape billow behind him, Ellie followed. His long fingers surrounded hers, warming her chilled hand. She lightly touched the smooth railing as they climbed the magnificent flight of steps. This was why she had wanted to be here at this party. She’d spent her whole childhood dreaming of what the big house on the hill looked like inside. Now he was leading her to a closet full of shoes in her dream home.

“Wait. The shoes are going on display? Why? If they’re collector items, maybe I shouldn’t –“

“No, no. Mandy has dedicated her life to the Peace Corps now and wants the shoes to be auctioned off. She’s asked that the money go to kids in Appalachia for shoes, clothes, books.” He winked at her. “You know, the necessities of life.”

A man that thought shoes and books were necessities of life. Her heart melted.

He stopped in front of a door and opened it. Stepping to the side, he invited her into the largest collection of shoes she had ever seen outside of Neiman Marcus.

As she stood in awe, JT brushed past her and walked along the shoes all lined up like beautiful chorus girls waiting to perform.

“What about these?” He turned, holding a pair of shining red stilettos. The light caught them, and they sparkled like rubies.

Her heart leapt in her chest. “Yes.” She thought she said it out loud but couldn’t be certain. 

He knelt in front of a winged back chair, waiting for her.

She tucked her rain-soaked party dress beneath her and sat.  He took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off the bottom of her tights. His warm hand supported one ankle, then the other as he slipped ruby heels onto her feet.

Oh, she was home.

Gazing up at her, he smiled.  “There’s no place like home.”

She gasped. Had he read her mind? 

It was a Dark and Stormy Night--Halloween Serial Chapter Six by Missy Tippens

It was a Dark and Stormy Night--Halloween Serial Chapter Six

Missy Tippens

Ellie bit back a gasp. He lives here. This is his party. He's probably not a crazy killer.

The mantra didn't do much to reassure her as she looked at the uninhabited hearse.

At least she hoped it was uninhabited. "Um, yeah. That's unusual all right."

"It was supposed to be parked out front, a prop for the party. But I'm late and need to get inside to greet my guests." JT picked up Mina, the bat cat. "Ready to go?"

"Gladly." Anything to get out of this dark garage. As she stuffed her weapon, aka her shoe, back inside her handbag, thunder once again rattled the door.

He turned off the hearse with some kind of remote control. Then he shined the flashlight to lead the way inside. They stepped into what appeared to be a long hallway. When he set down Mina, she scurried away, her tiny costume wings flapping.

Photo Credit: Crestock/inhabitant

"It's pitch dark in here, too," Ellie said, wondering why in the world she'd risked life, limb and Louboutins to come to a silly party on such a stormy night.

He sighed. "I hope my housekeeper has lit candles. Otherwise I'm afraid everyone will be scared." He stopped, and she nearly bumped into him. Turning toward her, he pointed the flashlight at their feet, creating a dimly-lit circle with them inside . "You have to admit, this house is a bit creepy."

His nearness took her breath away and made thinking clearly difficult. "It is with you in that cape and horrifying mask."

With a deep chuckle, JT lifted the mask to the top of his head. "I'm sorry if I've frightened you. I tend to get carried away when I throw a party."

She looked up into his eyes, half scared of what she'd see there. But even in the shadows, his beautiful brown eyes sparkled with humor.

Her tension eased, but just a fraction. Because a single man this handsome was a danger in itself. A danger to her heart. "Yeah. You had me going with the whole 'You can call me Norman' thing. How about if I just call you JT?"

"For you, Ellie, anything." With a heart-stopping grin, he slid his mask back in place. Then he stretched out his gloved hand. "Will you join me in welcoming our guests?"

Our guests? She swallowed. Hesitated. Then, against the voice in her head shouting turn around and run home!, she placed her hand in his.

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT--HALLOWEEN SERIAL CHAPTER FOUR

It was a Dark and Stormy night—Halloween Serial Chapter Four by Terri Reed

          “No, no. Light would be good.” Ellie grappled with the door handle and pulled. The side door popped open and she scrambled out, through her striped stockings the cold cement floor turned her toes to popsicles.

JT flipped the lock on the glove box, reached inside and withdrew a slim, sliver object that glinted in the car’s dome light.

She gasped. Was that a knife?  

She backed away from the car with her stiletto at the ready.  Wildly she glanced around the mammoth sized garage for a place to hide, but the car’s interior light did nothing to dispel the black abyss of the garage.  She didn’t know what dangers hid in the shadows. Better to face the threat she could see.

JT unfolded himself from the car and stood.  He was tall, very tall.  Taller than Ellie, which under normal circumstances would have delighted her, but right now, his towering frame intimidated and threatened.  If she screamed would anyone hear her?

Thunder crashed out side, rattling the garage door as if clamoring to get in. Or was something trying to get out?

He shut his door and rounded the rear of the car, his long legs carrying him toward her. Heart hammering against her ribs, she swallowed, backing up another step, moving farther into the gloom. 

             JT reached inside the car behind the passenger seat.

She watched in fascination as he withdrew a long black cape, swirled it out and fastened the sheet of fabric around his broad shoulders.  Only now did she realize he wore a tux that fit his frame well.  All he needed were fangs.   

He pushed the passenger side door closed, throwing them into complete darkness. Then she heard a click and a beam of light illuminated JT with a garish glow, making the angles and planes of his handsome face sharper.
“Oops, I almost forgot.” JT reached inside a deep pocket within the cape, withdrew a white mask and slid it over his face, then held out a hand. “Come to me.”

Oh, boy.  Isn’t that was what Dracula said to his victims right before he…Something rubbed against her leg. She squealed and jumped.  “Something is in here. It just touched me.”
A rumbling laughed emanated from JT.  “Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you.”

            “What won’t hurt me?” Ellie whispered.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night - Halloween Serial Chapter Two by Teri Wilson

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night – Halloween Serial Chapter Two

Teri Wilson

“Oh.” Ellie glanced at the foreboding mansion at the top of the hill and really wished it didn’t look so much like the house in the movie Psycho. “Actually, yes. I’m going to the party.”

“Super. Climb on in.” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome grinned. At least she assumed he was tall. It was kind of hard to tell since he was behind the wheel of a fancy sports car. But he wasn’t giving off a Norman Bates vibe, and for now, that would have to be good enough. Her Louboutins weren’t going to fix themselves.

“Thank you,” she said, folding herself into the passenger seat.

“You’re welcome.” His grin widened, revealing a most charming set of dimples, and he shifted the car into drive.

Ellie tried not to stare. She really did. But now that she’d gotten a closer look at him, she couldn’t help but notice how very much he looked like Ryan Gosling. That had to be a good sign, right?

She swallowed and aimed her gaze out the windshield. The storm had really picked up. Rain pounded against the glass, and the trees outside bent sideways in the wind. Trick-or-treaters went scurrying for cover. By the time they crested the hill, the rain-slicked sidewalks were deserted.

A chill snaked its way up Ellie’s spine. She’d be glad once she was safe inside the grand house and out of this eerie weather.

But when the car reached the sweeping, circular drive, it didn’t stop. Ellie pressed her palm against the window and cast a longing glance at the mansion.

Don’t panic. He lives here. He’s probably taking you to a separate, private entrance.

She forced her lips into a brave smile. “Thank you again for the ride, Mr…um…I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

He arched a brow and gave her a sideways glance that sent butterflies swarming in her belly. “You can call me Norman.”

Pamela Tracy's Dark and Stormy Night Tale

It was a dark and stormy night as the rabid reader climbs the trellis outside the suspense novelist’s home. Looking right and left, Rabid Reader assures herself that she hasn’t been seen. Good. She’s trained for this day.

Dressed in black, she feels a bit like a cat burglar. Only it isn’t jewels she wants; it’s information.

After she climbs through the conveniently unlocked window and lands quietly on soft carpet, she tiptoes across the bedroom and looks down the hallway. There, two doors down, comes a soft light. That's the room! The office where Pamela Tracy works, writes stories, stories that have driven Rabid Reader to tonight’s deed.

Pamela: Ouch. Hey, what’s with the rope?

Rabid Reader: I’ve tied you up. Now you won’t be able to type another work until you tell me all your secrets.

Pamela: Secrets? Me? I’m on deadline? I’m too tired to have secrets.

Rabid Reader (waving the cover of Pamela’s last Love Inspired Suspense Clandestine Cover-Up) : It’s all your fault. I start these stories, and I have to read them in one setting because I have to know whodunit.

Pamela: And you’re telling me this why?

Rabid Reader: So I can finally wake up in the morning with more than five hours sleep, so I won’t be looking at my clock all day and thinking when can I get back to the book, so I won’t be at work and wondering if I’m – just like the heroines in your book - just one step from the extraordinary, so…

Pamela: I get it. You’re wondering how a suspense writer works? Specifically how I, a wife, teacher, mother, friend, come up with these plots that keep you guessing until the end?

Rabid Reader: Yeah.

Pamela: Untie me and I’ll tell you.

Rabid Reader (picking up a bookmark and aiming it at Pam): No, I don’t trust you.

Pamela: Good, never trust a suspense novelist. We just might put you in a book.

Rabid Reader: That would be grand. I love all this characterization stuff you guys do. Just what do you do?

Pamela: My heroines are always 1/3 me, 1/3 someone I know, and 1/3 spunk. My heroes depend on the book I’m writing.

Rabid Reader: What are you working on now?

Pamela: Well, right now I'm working on the line edits for a Love Inspired contemporary. It will be out in December and is called Once Upon a Christmas. Not very suspensy.

Rabid Reader: No, not very suspensy.

Pamela: You want me to talk about Clandestine Cover-Up?

Rabid Reader: Yes, I love suspense.

Pamela: Well, my hero is a handyman. He’s really Vincent D’Onofrio from Mystic Pizza, only he’s a handyman who’s afraid to commit but not afraid to come to the heroine’s rescue.

Rabid Reader: Oh, I wish I could meet him.

Pamela: Buy the book online.

Rabid Reader: I will. Hey, you have a television in your office. Way cool. What are you watching?
Pamela: Bones.

Rabid Reader: Is that your favorite show?

Pamela: No, I do like it, but I watch it for mood only. You can’t trust it for fact. See, the investigators on the show have way too much freedom with crime scenes. When I write, I have to pay attention to what my readers will believe. Personally, I don’t believe all I see on Bones. I actually am really into The Gilmore Girls right now. On DVD, of course, during their heyday I was much too busy meeting deadlines to get to watch.

Rabid Reader: Judging by your books, I’d not take you as a Gilmore Girls fan.

Pamela: My critique group actually made me stop watching the Gilmore Girls. They said I was starting to put cutesy stuff in my suspense novels.

Rabid Reader: Where’s your critique group now? If they were loyal writer buds, they’d be here rescuing you.

Pamela: They’re too busy to rescue me. We all have a three pages a day goal. Then, we meet once every two weeks for critique. They’re brutal, which a suspense writer really needs.

Rabid Reader (Finding Clandestine Cover-Up on her Kindle and waving it around): You mean, you wrote this book at just three pages a day.

Pamela: Well, I wish I’d written it in three pages a day increments. But really, I have a full-time job (college professor), a husband, a son (in elementary school) and so many other things to do (clean house, attend church, judge contests) that I’d start with my three pages a book goal (Did you know that at three pages a day, you can write three books a year?) and eventually I’d be behind and start trying for five pages a day until I’d be really behind and writing ten pages a day for ten days. It works. By the time I get to the last 100 pages, I’m flying.

Rabid Reader (frowning at book): Wow, a college professor. Do most writers have day jobs?

Pamela: Yeah, I’m pretty sure.

Rabid Reader: Do you get your ideas during your day job?

Pamela: No, the book you’re holding, Fugitive Family, I got that idea while standing in line at the bank. I was looking at the mirror that shows the customer line, and I thought to myself, “Ummm, do I really look like that?” I’m pretty sure I also thought to myself, “Ummm, no more candy for me!” A whole book idea came from that moment.

Rabid Reader: A whole book idea!

Pamela: And you’re holding it in your hand.

Rabid Reader (staring at book): So, the idea came complete, all you had to do is write it?

Pamela: No, I had to write the synopsis, which is never easy for me. I always know my beginning and my end, but the middle is pretty much a mystery. I have four papers with two columns on them. I label the first column with the heroine’s name and the next column with the hero’s. Then, I starting coming up with at least three harrowing events per chapter that will happen to both. In Fugitive Family, there’s warnings posted on doors, flattened tires, tornados, corpses. Oops, I’m telling you too much. I need you to buy the book and then read it. Oh, and I also research. I found a bank manager and investigated what his life was like because I made the hero a bank manager. The heroine is a lawyer. Then, I also researched things like fallout shelters and go-go boots and stalkers and-

Rabid Reader: Stop, all of those things are in here! In one little book. See, that’s why I broke in tonight. You put all this great suspense in a book, and then I buy it, and pretty soon I’m losing sleep because I try to read it in one setting.

Pamela: I think you lose sleep because you’re reading and training to be a cat burglar when you should be sleeping.

Rabid Reader: Do you have a cat?

Pamela: Yes, his name is Tyre.

Rabid Reader (suddenly studying the walls and pictures in Pamela’s office): Do you have any jewels?

Pamela: Hey, I thought you were here to find out how I wrote books?

Rabid Reader: Yeah, but you just told me that most writers have day jobs. I’ll be a cat burglar by night and a writer by day. Thanks for helping me out.

Novelist Pamela Tracy lives in Arizona with a her husband, son, and cat. She was raised in Omaha, Nebraska, and started writing at age twelve (A very bad teen romance featuring David Cassidy from the Partridge Family). Later, she honed her writing skills while earning a BA in Journalism at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas (And wrote a very bad science fiction novel that didn’t feature David Cassidy.) She’s a Carol Award winner and has been a RITA finalist. She's written for both Barbour, Summerside, and Kensington. Today, she writes both suspense and contemporary romance for Steeple Hill’s Love Inspired line.