I Spy With My Little Eye...

By T.K. Wrathbone

*to be read first before Knock, Knock...Who’s Dead? and It Creeped at Midnight*

I Spy With My Little Eye...

Blake Williamson wants him and his friends to become the new One Direction, but Melissa, a scowling stepmother who wants nothing to do with her stepson, banishes Blake and his friends to the attic with the warning; If he wants to sing and dance, he must clean out the attic and use it.

Spending hours cleaning and dusting, Blake discovers long-lost treasures and photos of happier times just a few short years ago. And then a strange thing happens...

A hole emerges through the adjoining wall, and unable to contain their curiosity, Blake and his friends peer through, only to find very strange things indeed...

An ominous green glow emanates through the hole and they see arms and blood flying through the air. But Blake’s not sure if he’s seeing things or just not being told the truth...

All he wants is for his mother to come back to him, and the neighbours say they can make it happen, but they want his stepmother in return...

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.K. Wrathbone
• Release date: Nov 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781925683967

T.K. Wrathbone

Welcome to the spine-tingling world of T.K. Wrathbone!T.K. Wrathbone is a children's TV show veteran who loves watching disaster and creature/zombie movies and TV shows, but not at night.T.K. started writing many a year ago back in primary school, but only started her author career in 2015 with the release of her first three stories and anthology. She will write and release stories until there are twelve Bones books and a special edition numbered 13...For more information visit – www.tkwrathbone.com

Book preview

I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE

T.K. Wrathbone

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

About the Author

Other Titles

Copyright

Chapter 1

And one, two, three, kick, Blake Williamson told his friends.

They side-stepped to the right and fell over each other in a tangle of legs, giggling as they sprawled on the lounge room floor.

Aw, come on, guys, Blake whined, hands on hips, looking down at his friends. We’re never gonna be the next One Direction if this is gonna happen every time we try the dance routine. He grabbed the remote and hit pause. We need the practice.

Jarrod giggled and shoved Callum aside to detangle his legs. I thought we were just doing this for a bit of fun. He clambered to his feet and brushed off his hands. "It’s not like we’re auditioning for Got Talent or anything. We’re not really going to be the next One Direction, especially since they didn’t even do dance routines. They were the most unco group on the planet. Just like us tragics." A dead weight grabbed his arm and he looked down to see Jason using him to haul himself up. He helped him, and all four boys brushed themselves off before seeing Blake’s angry scowl.

Dude, calm down, Adam said. It’s just a bit of fun.

It’s not fun if you break anything, Melissa, Blake’s stepmother, said from the doorway. The lounge room isn’t big enough as is; it doesn’t need five teenage boys trying to dance in it. The new One Direction, she scoffed and placed her well-manicured hands on her slim, yet curvy, hips. Two years previously, at twenty-four, Melissa Dubrey had married Blake’s dad, Michael Williamson, after a whirlwind courtship. Michael had been forty-four, Blake was twelve, and she hadn’t appreciated having a teenage stepson to deal with. A former beauty queen, her bouffant blonde hair and well made up face made her look much older; the stilettoes and animal print mini dress made her look like a cougar. And she hated Blake as much as he hated her.

Blake seethed inside. It had been three years since his mother had died in a car accident, and two years since Melissa had become his stepmother. He hated her, and wished she were dead, wished he could have his mother back, wished and cried and prayed every day to have his mother back. But nothing changed. Nothing happened, and he was still stuck with the stepmother from hell. Glaring at her, he noticed her freshly manicured nails were rose pink and matched her lipstick. That was all she cared about. Getting manicures and pedicures, facials and massages, blowing through his dad’s money like there was no tomorrow. He was glad he had a private trust fund that no one could touch but him, because he didn’t want her blowing his mother’s life insurance that had gone into the trust for her only son. He noticed the way his friends were eyeing her shapely legs in the animal platform heels and crotch high mini dress.

What do you want, Melissa? His scowl deepened and a foot kicked Jarrod who was closest to him.

Jarrod blanched and turned away. He had a bit of a crush on Blake’s stepmum. It was hard not to. At fourteen, he was going through puberty and found the female form attractive. He quickly grabbed at the other boys and they turned back to the TV.

"What I want, Blake, Melissa said icily, is for my stepson to be in boarding school, but what I got was him and his friends playing pretend in my lounge room during school holidays."

"My lounge room, Blake corrected. We lived here long before you got here." He had no problem sassing his stepmother; he hated her, after all.

Melissa’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. Yes, well, if it wasn’t for your father’s insistence on living here, we’d be in a bigger home now, probably a house, but we aren’t. She hated the fact Michael was so insistent on living in the townhouse he’d shared with his dead wife, but she loved the money he provided her with, so, she sucked it up and tried not to complain to his face. She also tried to remain polite and sweet to Blake when his dad was around, but when he wasn’t, it was all-out war.

"My father insists on living here because it’s our home. Blake eyed her screwed up expression. You just came into it. What do you want? We’re busy." He turned back to the TV and DVD, setting the disc back to the beginning of the song.

"What I want is for you to not exist. But you do. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Yet, Melissa seethed. So, if you want a place to rehearse your stupid dancing, go to someone else’s house, or clear out the attic and do it up there."

The attic… Blake’s head swivelled around. "Is full of cobwebs and dirt. And probably