I felt good about my decision as I drove up DeLeon Road toward my home. Alex and Olivia were goofing around outside on the lawn, spraying each other with the hose. Olivia grabbed Alex, lifted him in the air, and then stuck the hose into his pants until he screamed for mercy. Seeing them made me laugh, and I parked in the driveway while Alex ran up to me.
“Mo-o-o-om, Olivia is bullying me.”
I hugged my soaking son and held him in my arms, then kissed him until he complained and wanted to be put down.
“He had it coming, you know,” Olivia said, still laughing.
“I know,” I said while Alex ran back in.
I put my arm around my oldest daughter’s shoulder as we walked back inside, realizing this was the best I had felt in years.
THE END
Afterword
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing To Die For (Eva Rae Thomas #8).
The idea for this book actually came to me when I started therapy myself.
I was going through some really rough things from my past that I needed help to deal with and found an amazing therapist, who is nothing like the one in this book, naturally. But it was while going through my sessions with her that I thought, what if a therapist let someone go too far?
What if she herself wasn’t really all there? How wrong could it go?
And then I let it go really, really wrong.
That was fun.
Now, I am still in therapy, and she has been helping me a lot, so this book is in no way a reflection of reality, but it was fun to write.
Take care,
Willow
Hit The Road Jack (Jack Ryder Series Book 1)
Excerpt
For a special sneak peak of Willow Rose's Bestselling Mystery Novel Hit the road Jack turn to the next page.
Prologue
DON’T COME BACK NO MORE
Prologue
May 2012
She has no idea who she is or where she is and cares to know neither. For some time, for what seems like forever, she has been in this daze. This haze, in complete darkness with nothing but the sounds. Sounds coming from outside her body, from outside her head. Sometimes, the sounds fade and there is only the darkness.
As time passes, she becomes aware that there are two realities. The one in her mind, filled with darkness and pain and then the one outside of her, where something or someone else is living, acting, smelling and…singing.
Yes, that’s it. Someone is singing. Does she know the song?
…What you say?
The darkness is soon replaced by light. Still, her eyes are too heavy to open. Her consciousness returns slowly. Enough to start asking questions. Where is she? How did she end up here? A series of pictures of her at home come to her mind. She is waiting. What is she waiting for?
…I guess if you said so.
Him. She is waiting for him. She is checking her hair in the mirror every five minutes or so. Then correcting the make-up, looking at the clock again. Where is he? She looks out through the window and at the street and the many staring neighboring windows. A feeling of guilt hits her. Somehow, it seems wrong for this kind of thing to take place in broad daylight.
…That’s right!
A car drives up. The anticipation. The butterflies in her stomach. The sound of the doorbell. She is straightening her dress and taking a last glance in the mirror. The next second, she is in his embrace. He is holding her so tight she closes her eyes and breathes him in until his lips cover hers and she swims away.
…Whoa, Woman, oh woman, don't treat me so mean.
His breath is pumping against her skin. She feels his hands on her breasts, under her skirt, coming closer, while he presses her up against the wall. She feels him in his hand. He is hard now, moaning in her ear.
“Where’s your husband?” he whispers.
“Work,” she moans back, feeling self-conscious. Why did he have to bring up her husband? The guilt is killing her. “The kids are in school.”
“Good,” he moans. “No one can ever know. Remember that. No one.”
…You're the meanest old woman that I've ever seen.
He pushes himself inside of her and pumps. She lets herself get into the moment, but as soon as it is over, she finds herself regretting it…while he zips up the pants of his suit and kisses her gently on the lips, whispering, same time next week? She regrets having started it all. They are both married with children, and this is only an affair. Could never be anything else, even if she dreamt about it. The sex is great, but she wants more than just seeing him on her lunch break. But she can never tell him. She can never explain to him how much she hates this awkward moment that follows the sex.
“They’re expecting me at the office…I have a meeting,” he says, and puts his tie back on. “I’d better…”
…Hit the road, Jack!
She finally opens her eyes with a loud gasp. The bright light hurts her. Water is being splashed in her face. She can’t breathe. The bathtub is slippery when she tries to get up. Her eyes lock with another set of eyes. The eyes of a man. He is staring at her with a twisted smile. She gasps again, suddenly remembering those dark chili eyes.
“I guess if you said so…I'd have to pack my things and go,” he sings.
“You,” she gasps. Breathing is hard for her. She feels like she is still choking. She is hyperventilating. Panicking.
The man smiles. On his neck crawls a snake. How does that old saying go again? Red, black, yellow kills a fellow? This one is all of that, all those colors. It stares at her while moving its tongue back and forth. The man is holding a washcloth in his hand. She looks down at her naked body. The smell of chlorine is strong and makes her eyes water.
“You tried to kill me,” she says, while panting with anxiety.
I have to get home. Help me. I have to get home to my children! Oh, God. I can hear their voices! Am I going mad? I think I can hear them!
“I guess I didn’t do a very good job, then,” he answers. His chillingly calm voice is piercing through every bone in her body.
“I’ll try again. That’s right!”
Prologue
May 2012
She had never been more beautiful than in this exact moment. No woman ever had. So fragile, her skin so pale it almost looked bluish. The man who called himself the Snakecharmer stared at her body. It was still in the bathtub. He was still panting from the exertion, his hands shaking and hurting from strangling the girl. He felt so aroused in this moment, staring at the dead body. It was the most fascinating thing in the world. How the body simply ceased to function. And almost as fascinating was what followed next. The human decaying process. It wasn’t something new. Fascination with death had occurred all throughout human history, characterized by obsessions with death and all things related to death. The Egyptians mummified their dead. He had always wished he could do the same. Keep his dead forever and ever. He remembered as a child how he would sometimes lie down in front of the mirror and try to lie completely still and look at himself, imagining he was looking at a dead body. He would capture cats and kill them and keep them in his room, just to watch what would happen to them. He wanted so badly to stop the decaying process, he wanted them to remain the same always and never leave.