Amusing Mary Sue

By K.M. Spires

Tate McGillis escapes to a secluded mountain cabin with his girlfriend, Lauren, for a weekend away. His romantic plans are destroyed, however, when he encounters an evil the likes of which he never imagined.

It’s not Lauren’s husband; he had no idea she left. It's not the dark, sinister forest that is constantly changing around them. It's not the undead crawling out of the lake with a taste for human flesh. It's not even the mutated spirit of a serial killer tormenting Tate for its own demonic pleasure.

A woman who will only identify herself as Mary Sue Standin is stalking Tate , and her powers are unrivaled. She can break his bones with a thought. She can rip everyone and everything he loves from the very fabric of reality. She can teleport him at will, leaving Tate to question the very nature of his existence.

Because Mary Sue is the writer of his story, and Tate's is not a happy story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.M. Spires
• Release date: Dec 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370531677

K.M. Spires

Hi, everyone! Thanks for taking the time to read this bio. I’ll try to keep it short. I’m an independent author from Texas. I rock the whole “wife and mother” thing, too, but you don’t care about that. You’re here for the stories. I began self-publishing in 2011. When it comes to writing, I prefer the paranormal genre, but I’ll read just about anything. There are so many authors whose work I enjoy that I can’t point out any specific influence. I am currently wrapping up the third book in my Watcher in the Darkness series. You can read what I have so far on my personal website.

Book preview

Amusing Mary Sue

By

K.M. Spires

©2013 K.M. Spires

I dedicate this book to my fantastically awesome children, Michael and Sami. After I told them what the story was about, they informed me that I am the coolest mom in the universe.

All of the universes.

Chapter 1

Tate McGillis never intended to hurt anyone. Sometimes it just happened.

Long hours in the car coupled with the distance traveled weighed upon Tate like a wet blanket. He stared through the diner’s window, the jolt he’d received from the caustic coffee having little effect on the weariness in his bones. He watched twin droplets merge then roll down the tinted plate glass, and the clear trail left in their wake resembled a misshapen heart. Storm clouds scraped the barren treetops, draining him yet further as thunder snarled in the distance. Though the sky appeared ready to crack open at any second, a mere light rain misted the parked vehicles. Among the pickups and late model cars, Tate’s golden Kia Optima stood out like a butterfly in a locust swarm, but he was too exhausted to be self-conscious.

A voluptuous woman with curly brown hair and a quick smile set a greasy basket containing a cheeseburger and fries before him. Her crooked nametag exclaimed ‘MARTINA.’ How’re you doing, hon? she said, her smoker’s voice velvety with compassion. You look like you’re about ready to fall over.

Tate sat up straighter then rubbed his stubbled cheeks with both hands. You might be right about that, he said with a self-deprecating laugh. We’ve been on the road since four-thirty this morning. Thank you, by the way.

His common courtesy brightened her demeanor yet further. Oh, it’s no problem, sweetie, she said as she placed a club sandwich and coleslaw on the table across from him. Where did your lady friend go?

Oh, she’s… Tate faltered as he scraped his brain for a plausible explanation for Lauren’s absence. In the bathroom?

Martina had no reason to doubt his veracity. Okay. Would you like a refill on your coffee?

Tate held up his cup, his chin propped in his free hand as he gazed at her through hooded eyelids. Yes, please?

Martina poured the remainder of the coffee pot into his mug, charmed by him. How much longer do you have to drive before you get to where you’re going?

Oh, we’re almost there now. We’re going camping up at Lake Sutter.

A booming expletive from the next table snatched away Martina’s smile. She turned her head to glower at the four men dressed in camouflage and bright orange vests. They continued to bellow laughter in spite of the disapproval they’d garnered from their fellow patrons. A cloud of beer-saturated body odor surrounded them like noxious fog.

Martina’s jaw set as her eyes narrowed, and she gave Tate’s shoulder a consolatory pat. Tate opened his mouth to warn her as Martina turned on her heels, but a gorgeous woman with long, wavy blonde hair chose that moment to slide into the booth across from him.

Thank god, the food’s here, Lauren said, a bit out of breath. She glowed despite the bleak weather as she pulled the damp gloves from her hands. That trail mix you packed wasn’t doing the trick for me anymore, babe. By the way, you would not believe how cold it’s gotten out there.

Lauren’s very presence relaxed Tate. I did walk in with you from the car, remember? To his left, Tate could barely make out Martina’s low reprimand, but he could see the hunters’ dark looks of resentment.

Lauren was oblivious to the drama unfolding little more than an arm’s length away from them. Yeah, but you didn’t just stand out in it for the last fifteen minutes. Lauren’s sandwich froze halfway to her mouth then her cheeks reddened as her gaze dropped. Sorry, she mumbled.

No problem, Tate said with forced nonchalance. He watched her take a bite as his left hand closed around the velvet box in the pocket of his jacket. How’s Charlie doing? I take it he made it to Tokyo?

Ice clattered in Lauren’s soda glass as she took a sip. She swallowed hard then cleared her throat, still unable to make eye contact. He did. He just wanted to see if we’d made it to the cabin yet.

Tate left the diamond ring where it was when he picked up his burger. So, you told him who you’ve really gone camping with?

Shame dampened Lauren’s expression. That’s not a conversation I think we should have over the phone.

Martina turned to walk away, to which one of the hunters made a lewd and derisive comment. Tate’s wisp of annoyance evolved into a bright flicker.

Maybe this was a bad idea, Tate, Lauren said with a resigned sigh. Do you think we should go back?

No, Tate said without hesitation.

Lauren’s eyes pleaded with him for absolution. Are you sure?

I’m positive. He reached across the table to take her hand then gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. After a moment, a hint of her lovely smile returned.

One of the hunters, a giant of a man with a wild mahogany beard, held his coffee cup aloft. Hey, Marty, he said, too loud and with unjustifiable exasperation. Can I get a refill over here?

Tate winced, to which Lauren tiled her head. What’s the matter? she said.

Tate jerked his thumb to indicate the vulgar group. Martina reappeared at Tate’s side, replacing Lauren’s half-empty glass with a full one as she said, I have to ask, what on earth would make you two want to go camping up at Lake Sutter?

I wonder if she’s going to waddle over here with that coffee sometime today, Bushy Hunter said, making no effort to keep his voice down.

Martina gave no indication that she had heard him. It just seems a little off season, is all.

Tate’s hands clenched into fists under the table Yeah, it’s a little late in the year, but this was the only time we could arrange to take off work, he said as tension spread throughout his neck and shoulders. This wasn’t the entire truth, but Tate didn’t feel the need to explain the situation regarding Lauren’s husband to the waitress.

Martina nodded in understanding. I know how that goes.

Hey, Marty, the oldest hunter said, his tone so snappish that Tate impaled him with a look. Can we get some of that coffee before it goes cold?

Yeah, Bob, I heard you the first time and I’ll be right there. To Lauren, Martina said, So, what do the two of you do for a living?

Set against the cream of her complexion, Lauren’s wide eyes were as blue as the Caribbean Sea. Oh…Um, I work in retail and Tate is a computer programmer.

This impressed Martina. Apparently, Tate’s rugged and somewhat disheveled appearance didn’t coincide with her preconceived notions. That’s very cool. Look, about the lake—

I swear, I’m going to complain to Monte about her, Bushy Hunter said with boisterous indignation. This bitch is deliberately ignoring us.

Shaking his head, Tate slid to the edge of his seat, but Martina sidestepped to block him in the booth. Make sure you stay in your tent or cabin, especially at night, she said with absolute solemnity. After the sun goes down, that mountain lake throws off a really dense fog. Between that and the forest being so thick, quite a few people have gotten lost up there.

Tate’s smile was little more than the tightening of his lips. Thanks for the warning, Martina. We’ll be careful. Lauren reached under the table to take hold of Tate’s wrist. Her cool fingers were soothing, as was the understanding in her eyes.

Just Marty is fine, Martina said as she turned without haste. At that moment, Tate received an unobstructed view of the woman that sat alone at the corner table. Her dark hair hung loose on her shoulders under a knitted cap, and her pale skin was devoid of makeup. Despite the inclement weather, she wore jeans and a thin black tee shirt layered over a purple tank top. The woman was of average height and build; in fact, nothing about her outward appearance stood out. Even so, some primordial instinct in Tate’s brain buzzed with alarm to find her staring at him. For several long seconds, Tate couldn’t break eye contact, in much the same way a fawn is unable to look away from the lights of an oncoming train.

Bushy Hunter’s gruff voice yanked Tate back to the moment. I guess someone isn’t hoping for a tip.

Does that mean I’m not going to get my quarter today, Jackson? Martina’s attitude sparkled like diamonds. However will I make ends meet?

Kind of uppity for a woman with three kids by three different daddies, ain’t you? Short Fat Hunter said.

Lauren’s grip on Tate tightened as she shook her head. Tate, don’t, she said under her breath.

I can’t just sit here, Tate said.

Look, I know it’s hard, but you won’t be doing her any favors. First of all, we’ll never set foot in this place again, but they’ll most likely be back tomorrow. Second, there are four of them and only one of you. And last but not least, they might be the pricks here, but you could end up going to jail. You could even get her fired. So please, please, for my sake? Just let it go?

Tate couldn’t dispute Lauren’s line of reasoning, just as he couldn’t refuse anything she asked of him. He nodded once as the taut band of muscle across his brow promised the mother of all migraines.

The odd woman continued to study Tate; he could feel her gaze like gnawing maggots on his skin. He noticed that she didn’t have a meal or beverage on the table before her. Was she there just to unnerve him?

The hunters tossed crumpled bills onto their messy table. Tate’s relief was a bitter thing, because each of the men took parting shots at Martina as they stood to leave.

There are other places in town to get a burger, you know.

Martina didn’t bat an eye. Well, don’t keep coming here on my account.

I don’t think your boss would like to hear how you sass your customers.

You’re probably right. Feel free to call him.

You’ve got to be the worst waitress in the goddamn state.

I suppose I’m going to have to find a way to live with that, Charlie.

This isn’t fucking rocket science, Marty, so stop being so full of yourself. People order the food, you bring the food.

Martina lifted her hands in surrender. Wait, slow down, Bob. You’re explaining this way too fast.

Lauren bowed her head to suppress a giggle, and even Tate couldn’t help but smile.

It’s no wonder you can’t keep a husband, Bushy Hunter announced as he held the glass door open for his friends.

Agreed. There are way too many men like you in this town.

Tate felt the