Dying To Meat You

By Cyan LeBlanc

What if you were hired as a ghostwriter to pen your own death sequence?

 

Struggling writer Arianta Collins receives the offer of a lifetime: ghostwriting for the renowned horror novelist Katherine Bishop. Excited by the prospect of honing her craft and learning from her idol, Arianta eagerly accepts the invitation and moves to Katherine's secluded rural farmhouse in the southeast.

As Arianta delves deeper into her ghostwriting job, she begins to experience unsettling and vivid dreams that blur the line between reality and fiction. She feels herself becoming more and more immersed in the world of Katherine's twisted tales, and she can't shake the feeling that she's becoming the protagonist of her own horror story.

 

Caught in a nightmarish mix of sexual tension, deception, and horror, Arianta races to unravel the truth before it's too late.

 

"Dying To Meat You" is a graphic, stomach-churning horror novella that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the chilling conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Posies & Peacocks
• Release date: Aug 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223690511

Book preview

Dying To Meat You

A Sapphic Erotic Horror

Cyan LeBlanc

Posies & Peacocks

Copyright © 2023 Cyan LeBlanc

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Cover design by: Cyan LeBlanc (via Canva.com)

Printed in the United States of America

Content Warning

This book contains graphic and disturbing depictions of murder, cannibalism, sex, and farm-animal killings. It is intended for regular readers of horror novels and those who are comfortable with such content. However, please be advised that some readers may find these themes upsetting or triggering.

Reader discretion is advised.

Prologue

How much clothing to pack for a three-month job assignment was a dilemma for Arianta Collins. She scrutinized her choices, hastily tossing clothes onto the bed, trying to decide what to pack and what to leave behind. Not wanting to come off as too butch, but femme wasn’t her style either; she hated most everything she owned because nothing fit her right after the break-up with her last girlfriend. All her clothes hugged her new curvy figure, which had eaten too much ice cream over the past few months. She considered the unpredictable weather of southeast Texas and decided to pack for all possibilities. Arianta knew she had to be prepared for any temperature. She couldn't overpack, however, wanting to take up as little space as possible while living in a stranger's home for three months. Assuming laundry facilities were available on this Texas ranch in the middle of nowhere, she would be able to do her laundry as needed.

Shannon, Arianta's current roommate and best friend, stood in the doorway of the room while Arianta packed a sweater into her luggage. Are you sure this is safe? Why not just work from home and have her email you the concepts? Or even better, use videoconferencing.

She wants it to be organic. Creativity comes when it comes, and I need to be there when it strikes. Besides, Katherine Bishop isn't some unknown author. She has written a couple of dozen books. I've done my research, and I wouldn't go for just anyone, Arianta explained.

"A couple of dozen horror books. If she wrote romance, I wouldn't be so apprehensive. But you're going to rural Texas with someone who thinks of ways to kill people for a living," Shannon replied.

Arianta chuckled. If it were Stephen King, would you worry?

Yes, Shannon said.

Shannon fretted about everything. She despised the monotonous routine of a nine-to-five job, and she was not one to seek out adventures. She and Arianta had been inseparable best friends since graduating high school. They attended the same college and shared an apartment, with Shannon shouldering most of the rent burden. Arianta struggled to find a full-time job with her English major, settling for sporadic temp jobs that lasted only a few days. She had diligently pursued a full-time writing position, but nothing materialized until the opportunity arose to ghostwrite for a published author. Despite the job taking her away from her comfortable city life, the handsome paycheck and the boost to her resume were too enticing to pass up.

It will be fine. And besides, how much trouble can I get into on a remote ranch in the middle of nowhere? Arianta reassured Shannon, her tone confident.

Chapter 1

Arianta arrived at Katherine Bishop's ranch which was in a desolate community of fewer than three thousand people, shrouded in mist, and about two hours outside of Houston. The driver, also the caretaker of the ranch, heaved Arianta's suitcases from the trunk as Arianta wandered around the side of the looming main house. Out in the pasture, about a few hundred yards out, a woman of athletic build with long hair, pulled into a tight ponytail stood on the small, weathered wooden bridge that spanned a murky stream flowing through the property. Arianta approached the woman she recognized as Katherine, cautiously treading the dirt path, her pulse quickening with each step. In the distance, beyond Katherine, loomed a fenced area with a few steers and another where pigs squealed, their frenzied movements casting shadows on the green grass. If it weren't for the restless livestock, the ranch would have exuded an air of tranquility.

As Arianta's foot landed on the first plank of the bridge, Katherine thrust up her hand to halt her. Wait. Step off.

Arianta complied, her breath catching in her throat, but Katherine didn't even look at her. Her eyes remained fixed on the water flowing relentlessly down the creek. Arianta turned her gaze to the river and witnessed a duck dipping its head into the water and catching a fish in its sharp beak. Before she could react, Katherine raised the pistol in her hand and fired a single shot, the report echoing through the mist, hitting the duck with chilling precision.

Arianta startled, caught off-guard by the sudden explosion of sound. It happened so swiftly that she let out a strangled cry, clutching her chest in fear. Her heart thundered in her ears as she struggled to breathe, the air thick with tension.

Dinner tonight, Katherine uttered, her voice low and laced with a chilling edge, as she stepped toward her. Menacing in stature, Katherine came at her with the gun. Arianta's throat tightened with fear, but as Katherine pushed past her and off the bridge, Arianta hurried to catch up. Her heart pounded as she watched Katherine lean over and pick up the dead bird by the neck. Arianta spoke, her words coming out in a rushed tumble, Ms. Bishop, hi. I'm Arianta. Your ghost wri—

I’m aware, Katherine interrupted abruptly, her piercing gaze fixed on Arianta like a hawk. I don't let just anyone on my ranch, and obviously my driver picked you up. She turned around sharply, planting her feet into the ground with a vice-like grip on the duck in her hand. Please do not tell me you're some sort of idiot savant. I don't have the patience.

Arianta's eyes widened, taken aback by Katherine's sharp demeanor. She had only known of Katherine Bishop's work, reading a few of her novels after accepting the job. There had been little information online about Katherine's personality or disposition, so Arianta didn't know what to expect, other than the daunting task of writing for her. Katherine's blunt statement caught her off-guard, leaving her at a loss for words. No. I'm sorry. Please, let's start over, she stammered.

You expect me to bring this duck back to life so we can have a proper introduction? Katherine retorted, a derisive scoff escaping her lips. She turned on her heel, dismissive of the idea. Come.

Her commanding tone brooked no argument, and Arianta followed, her unease growing with each step into the depths of the ranch, where shadows danced ominously, and the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Arianta realized the importance of first impressions, and she gulped as she realized she had failed to make a good one. She scrambled to keep up with Katherine's determined stride, feeling the weight of the unspoken reprimand. Without a word, Katherine pushed through the back door and would have let it slam in Arianta's face. Arianta hastened her steps, barely making it inside before the door closed on her heels.

In the kitchen, Katherine tossed the duck onto a chopping block, and Arianta hesitated in the doorway, transfixed by the sight. Katherine produced parchment paper and a pan, then grabbed the cleaver from the counter. With one swift motion, the knife hacked off the duck's head, sending it rolling across the table. The sight and sound of it made Arianta's stomach lurch, and she doubled over, heaving her lunch onto the floor. She had never witnessed an animal's slaughter before, and the sight of blood pooling on the parchment and dripping into the sink made her feel queasy.

Katherine grinned as she looked up at Arianta. Murderous tales aren't for the faint of heart, huh? Buckle up, it's going to be quite the ride.

Arianta wiped her mouth, embarrassed. I'm sorry; I'll clean this up.

No worries, Katherine called out, Breana! Clean up on aisle nine!

Arianta couldn't help but chuckle, thinking it was a witty joke, but out came a troll-like servant to handle the mess. Breana hurried in, hardly sparing a glance at the orange nacho carnage on the floor.

Breana was not exactly a beauty—short and stocky, with pallid, grayish-white skin and sunken eyes. She grabbed a mop and bucket from a nearby closet and got to work. Arianta apologized profusely, but Breana just waved her hand. No worry.

Ignoring Breana's presence, Katherine continued to pluck the feathers off the headless bird on the counter, speaking in a low, ominous tone. Fresh meat, never store-bought. I don't believe in it. Companies inject so many chemicals into our food sources, and we're slowly poisoning ourselves with every bite. Here on the ranch, we only consume a clean, natural diet–all grown or killed on the premises. You consented to a detoxification, after all.

Arianta nodded, remembering the dietary section of the job application being organic and worldly. It had seemed peculiar at the time, but Katherine's explanation now sent a chill down her spine thinking there would be more animal blood coming over the next three months. She had always been mindful of her food choices, but the realization that there would be no junk food or processed options on this ranch made her regret the earlier plate of nachos she just upchucked on the kitchen floor.

Once Katherine finished plucking the feathers, she pulled two glasses from the cabinet with a sharp clang and placed them on the counter. From the fridge, she retrieved a jug of dark, viscous liquid that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. She poured it into the glasses and offered one to Arianta with an unsettling smile that Arianta felt she couldn't refuse.

With a look of revulsion, Arianta scrutinized the maroon liquid before her. Katherine spoke, It takes a little getting used to the taste, but it's a great source of iron and will purge your insides. I’d drink it over the sink.

Arianta made