Spooky Love

By Paul Gonzales

There's many types of love in the world and in Spooky Love we navigate through five different types and the horrors that occur when love isn't enough.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Gonzales
• Release date: Aug 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301447213

Paul Gonzales

Paul Gonzales is an entertainment journalist and filmmaker who enjoys blending fiction with personal experience to bring the audience into the fold of the worlds he creates.

Book preview

Spooky Love

by

Paul Gonzales

Smashwords Edition

Published by Paul Gonzales

Copyright © 2013 Paul Gonzales

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the

copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for

commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage

your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also

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****

for Autumn

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Table of Contents

The Peak Beyond the Pines

The Damned Thing

The Trouble with Terror

The Milk Carton Kids

The Cottage

The Peak Beyond the Pines

His feet didn’t quite move underneath him. They were sluggish and shuffled slightly behind his swaying body. He found himself leaning a little too much against the picket fence at his left. His right hand loosely gripped a bottle of expensive champagne. His fingers quickly gripped it as he realized this. He moved the bottle towards his lips, paused and gathered himself a bit as it reached his chest, then it's destination. He flung his head back as he took a hard, deep swig.

His brown wool sports coat was a little ripped at his left sleeve, which was now smeared with old chalky paint. His white button down undershirt lay wrinkled underneath his coat and slunk over his matching brown pants on one side and the end of his belt was jutting out from underneath. His tie was loosened and his shirt’s top button was undone. His thinning hair was splayed across his forehead like a brown spark from an exposed wire.

He rubbed his face and wiped his hair back with one swipe. He smeared his sweat tinged hand on his coat and looked down at it. The tarnished golden band that circled his ring finger stared an evil stare. Fucking bitch, he growled in a drunken accent.

He tucked the bottle under his arm and squeezed around the ring and tugged and twisted and cursed and yanked even harder. He grabbed the bottle and poured a little on his finger, as to not waste more than was necessary, and shoved the bottle back under his arm. He pulled as hard as he could but the ring slid off too easily causing his right arm to fly away from him and the green tinted bottle crashed on the sidewalk by his feet. He haphazardly flung his legs outward so the bottle missed his toes, but it was a few seconds late and he just crunched the glass which missed anyway.

He stood there with his legs spread out standing on the glass, his right arm out in the air to his side like a cyclist ready to turn on a busy street. His face snapped towards his hand holding the golden menace. Dammit, you bitch! He drunkenly flung the ring over his head and in to the woods on the other side of the fence, his knuckles catching the pointed tips of the picket fence.

He glanced down at the skin curled back on the joints of his hand and, after a few seconds pause, he felt the plain cartwheel up his arm and in to his brain. Shit! Oh, you bitch! He curled his hand in to a ball and fell against the fence.

He heard some laughter from down the sidewalk. He turned to see a group of children appear underneath the dull yellow cone of the streetlight. He steadied himself and tucked his bleeding hand underneath his coat.

He stepped from off the glass and spread his uninjured hand out to caution them. Watch out now, kiddies. There’s been quite the accident here, so beware the shards. The children slowed as they approached, slightly confused by the words coming out of his mouth and slightly frightened by his appearance. Some showy punk, I’m sure. He bent down towards the child in the middle of the three. Oh, look! You’re a little princess! He turned to the other costumed child to her left. And you’re that Superman fellow from the radio show! Oh, my, how wonderful.

The children ran to the opposite sidewalk across the street when he tried to play cowboys with the other. The man shrugged and straightened himself. Kids. Well then, bugger off. He sniveled and looked down at the glass strewn sidewalk and then curled his hand out from his coat. He scratched his head and looked around the darkened sidewalks, lit randomly from the barely working street lights above. He listened as the children’s laughter faded. He glanced back down at the pieces of glass and kicked them off of the sidewalk with the side of his shoe and continued down the concrete walkway.

He tried to steady himself as he stammered all over the sidewalk. He would stop himself every few steps and see how far he had come and how far he had to go. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and huffed out a white cloud of autumn breath.

That’s when he heard his name.

Martin, a female voice said.

He nearly stumbled as he slammed to a stop. He squinted his bloodshot eyes and