what if the beast is a woman instead of
a man?
Ethan Scott
I was about to find out when a
mysterious job led to the secluded home of a horror novelist. I’d lost
everything: my scholarship, my education, and my way. In denial of my family
inheritance, I took the unusual employment as a chance out of a hole, but I
found myself buried in the unknown trauma of another situation much deeper.
Ella Vincentia
I had changed my name and my
address to keep myself hidden, but my scars were more than physical. Living as
a recluse in the woods, I was used to being alone, so I wasn’t happy when a
certain someone was always in my space. Our first encounter was less than
pleasant and tension continued at every attempt to tame me.
Secrets
I knew she was keeping secrets
and I wanted to help, but she was
cutting me down and cutting me off every time she opened her mouth. Our frustration
with one another grew until a misunderstanding changed everything. How can I be
the next guy after something so tragic? It
was a challenge I wasn’t sure I was willing to take.
EXCERPT:
EXCERPT:
I
looked directly at her. The blue cloak matched her angered eyes and for a
moment I thought I saw something else in them. In her bent over position, she
looked down at me and I shivered with excitement thinking she was reaching for
me, until she leaned forward further and tried to tip the boat.
“Get
out.”
“Are
you…” I stopped. I was going to say crazy,
insane, cuckoo.
“Say
it,” she snapped.
“I
wasn’t going to say it,” I lied.
“Yes,
you were,” and she reached for the underside of the boat, but could only touch
the side, pushing on it.
I
still had a hold on the edge of the dock and I let the boat float away a little
as if her push had an effect, before I pulled it back.
I
knew I was taunting her more.
“I.
Said. Get. Out,” and she reached forward again at the same time I pushed the
boat away from the dock. Ella lost her momentum and lunged toward me with a
look of shear panic. I caught her around the waist as I let go of the dock, but
the force of her coming at me pushed us both to the right and we hit the icy
cold lake. It was a short drop, and despite the shock of the water, I wrapped
one hand around Ella’s head to protect her from hitting the shallow bottom. I
slammed my shoulder into the pebbly lake bottom, landing on a rock as I twisted
to buffer her fall. I struggled to hold Ella and free my legs that now balanced
above me in the kayak.
Once
me legs were free, I easily kicked the soft bottom of the lake and righted
myself, still clutching Ella around the waist and head. The cold water had been
a shock, but the cool air above the surface was additional pins and needles. I
sucked in a breath, clenching Ella to me. I heard her gasp for air as she
shoved me hard in the chest like she had the day before behind the couch.
“What
the hell are you doing?” she yelled.
“Trying
to protect you.”
“Well,
I don’t need protecting.”
“You
almost drowned us,” I returned her growing anger.
“Us?
You almost drowned me. Holding me under the water,” she shouted back at me. She
had pushed back from me but now stepped awkwardly closer again in the knee-deep
water.
“And
you ruined my cloak.” Ella looked down at the soggy material and pulled some of
it up. The hood fell back when we’d returned to the surface, and her hair fell
in heavy waves around her shoulders. The water glistened off it, making it a
darker mixture of fall-leaf tones. I held in the moan trying to escape and
clenched my hands into fists at my side. I wanted to shake her madly then kiss
her passionately.
“You
almost drowned me by thinking you could push me out of that boat.”
“Well,
you weren’t getting out.”
“What
are you? Two? Cut the spoiled bitch act.” Ella gasped in shock as I shook my
head and ran both hands through my hair. I didn’t want to get mad at her.
“Funny.
Yesterday you said I was beautiful. Today I’m a bitch,” she retorted.
I
took two steps toward the dock in my water sodden clothes before I turned to
face her again.
“You
are beautiful,” I started loudly, angrily, “if you’d just keep your damn mouth
shut,” I added in a whisper and finally pushed myself upward onto the dock. She
continued to stare at me as I crouched on the wooden platform and offered her
my hand.
“Come
here,” I said in an unknowingly seductive voice.
“I
don’t need your help,” she snapped back, resigned as she walked toward the
dock, dragging the soaking wet, heavy material behind her. I stood.
“I
get it. You don’t want my help. You don’t want my protection. You don’t want my
food,” I spit. “What you need is a good spanking,”…
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