Roses are Red...

By Martin Eastland

Kate McCarran is a Survivor. She has had a lot of personal problems in her life, but even they pale into insignificance in a devastatingly cruel twist of fate. Attacked, mutilated, and left for dead in her apartment in Edinburgh, she becomes the target of a sadistic maniac, intent on destroying her completely.

In an attempt to escape his evil machinations, she travels to Liverpool for a short break, and meets Tommy Milliken, a smooth, charming Scouser who fills her with a brand new lease for life. Upon her return to Edinburgh, the onslaught continues, and even Tommy's sudden flying visit isn't going to stop the war of nerves between hunter and prey…

With her lover back in Liverpool, the stakes are raised, escalating to a climactic, nerve-shredding finale on the summit of Edinburgh Castle…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unveiling Nightmares
• Release date: Apr 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224199068

Book preview

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Chapter 1

Kate McCarran walked down the cobbled street, apprehensive and unsure. She had left Markey’s Bar after the lock-in had ended, and everybody had caught a cab home. Her apartment was a short distance away but felt much longer when the streets were devoid of life. She heard footsteps behind her and quickened her pace. She wished, now, she had dressed more appropriately like her mother had warned her ( "You’re not going out like that! " she had admonished. I raised you better than that, young lady!) . She hadn’t listened.

Kate knew she was right, but she was one of the new "I can wear what the fuck I like!" breed and was now beginning to see just what her mother and grandmother had meant. She didn’t want to be objectified or leered at, attract ‘Mr Right.’ (Well, you’re gonna attract a lot worse than him! her mother had reiterated countless times). She had to admit her mother had a valid point, more so now than before.

If you walk around with your tits half-hanging out, you’re inviting the wrong sort into your life, she’s right! Kate told herself as she walked along the street. Edinburgh’s Grassmarket was a long street filled with cafes and bars, the home of the illustrious ‘Edinburgh Fringe’ event, a calendar date for comedy acts, filling the Scottish city’s cafes, bars, restaurants, and hotels with people from all over Great Britain and abroad. It was too dangerous to get a cab. Unscrupulous taxi drivers had recently raped several of her friends, all of Asian descent, and it wasn’t a good idea.

She remembered the New Year riots in Cologne, Germany, when they migrated there, how migrants assaulted a great many German women – and how their Police had dealt with it, preferring to sweep it under the rug of Political Correctness and avoid unwanted accusations of racism. Even after almost 80 years, the nation still bore the shame borne by the Nazis and the Holocaust. Racism was the last thing it needed battering at their door again.

She turned the corner and was relieved – for the first time - to see a small group of junkies hanging around a lamppost. The sound of the footsteps had diminished and, eventually, ceased as she brushed past the addicts, all around their late twenties, one of whom – a male - heckled her.

‘Christ, Almighty! Lookit the tits on that!’ he cat-called, wolf-whistling at her. Kate ignored him, walking past, hearing the slap of a hand on his skin as the junkie woman cracked him hard across the face. The woman screamed as the man punched her hard in the face for it, starting a near riot behind her. Kate reached her building, relieved to be home. Exhausted, she began her long, tiring ascent to the top floor. She was going straight to her bed. The walk home and her potential stalker had sobered her up, and she turned the key in her front door. As she opened it, she saw a large brown packing envelope. Sighing, she picked it up.

‘What the fuck is this, now?’ she said aloud, closing the door over a little. The door, still ajar behind her, as she ripped the package open, flew against the side of her head, knocking her to the laminate flooring, unconscious. The dark-clad figure entered behind her, quickly closing the door. He picked her up, carrying her into the darkness of her living room.

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THE MORNING LIGHT blasted through the window, making Kate squint. She reached for her head, feeling it and looking at her hand. It was stained with blood. Half-asleep, she walked to the bathroom, switched on the light, and looked in the mirror. Her face was severely bruised, and there was a large gash on her right temple, encrusted with dried blood. So out of it was she that she only then realised that she was stark naked. Disoriented and worried, she tried to recount the previous night’s events. Has she hooked up with someone? Had she been dumb enough to take yet another jerk home with her? She vaguely remembered walking home, feeling she had been followed, but then remembered the smack-heads on the street screaming at each other as she entered the building.

She did feel sore ‘down there’ and examined herself in the mirror. Her vulva was dark, badly bruised, and veiny.

Fuck ME! Did I bring somebody home, or did some cunt attack me when I got here? Kate thought. Jesus!

She put on her bathrobe and walked to the living room, sitting on the couch, her eyes brimming with tears as the sound of