As requested, I'll add another chapter of the 2nd GOTH GIRL book. This book isn't contracted so may never be published but sometimes it's nice to just write for fun. Besides I'm in a waiting mode, not sure what to start next and hoping for news on a submission close to my heart. So I figure why not share some of Thorn's continuing story with readers who have enjoyed my SEER books.

If there's still interest, I'll post chapter 3 tomorrow. PS - While I self-edit, this hasn't been professionally edited. I really appreciate all the editors I've worked with. No matter how much I reread something, I usually find a mistake later. Be warned (g).

GOTH GIRL MYSTERY #2: REAPER

CHAPTER TWO

            Jay slides down the rope he’s hooked to my balcony and offers to catch me if I fall. But I’m already climbing down, reminding him he’s not the only one with skills. He nods with what I think is respect.

“This way,” he whispers, gesturing for me to follow.

We cross through the backyard, staying close to bushes as we hurry away from the three-story ramshackle farm house my family recently moved into. Brittle leaves crackle on the road, shaken from skeletal autumn-dying trees, and a chilly breath of wind moans along the quiet country road. I love the eerie night in its cozy cloak of darkness. It’s no secret black is my favorite color, which some people think that’s a sign I’m into devil worship or other ridiculous assumptions, but black is the most interesting color; unable to reflect light, independent and mysterious; coloring the night when the world seems most alive.

And I’m feeling more alive than ever, aware of rough pavement beneath my feet, chilly air tingling my face and woodsy smell from burning fireplaces. We travel silently down a road dimly lit by orbs of street lights and a shine of moon through an overcast October sky. I stay close to Jay, my two steps matching each of his longer single strides.

When we reach a dark-brown sedan, more like something grandparents would drive than a car for a rich high school senior, Jay clicks a button on his key ring.

“Entrez s’il vous plait.” With a gentlemanly gesture, he opens the door for me.

As I duck inside the vehicle, his arm brushes my shoulder. Electricity sparks through my body. I glance sharply to read his expression, wondering if he’s jolted too, yet see not even a flicker of emotion. He climbs into the seat, clicking a seat belt and we’re off.

We drive west, away from the rural area of Nevada Bluff, toward brighter lights of the city. Questions slam my thoughts, about where we’re going and what will happen when we get th