Fear of Being....released August 1st....

Prologue

‘Spen-cer, Spen-cer, come and play with me, Spen-cer. We’ll have so much fun.’

“No.” Spencer Grace struggled to get away from the hands reaching out to her. It was a dream but it wasn’t. The smell of sulfur and ash choked her nose and made her want to throw up. Dreams didn’t reek of death, nor could they touch her. She knew he was closer to her than he’d ever been.

‘You know you want to be with me. You need me, Spen-cer. I know you like no other.’

“Leave me alone.” Although she couldn’t see him, she shot her hands out to fend him off. Spencer knew in her heart and soul that her very survival was at stake here. Yet the more she struggled the more she started to lose herself. It was like quicksand. Be calm. Don’t let this bastard win. Every day in the last two weeks, since he’d forced himself into her life, he was becoming stronger. I won’t lose myself to him. I can’t.

‘Spen-cer, Spen-cer.’ His voice made a slow hissing sound. She felt a sudden presence beside her in the bed. Her skin crawled like a thousand spiders were nipping at her flesh. She knew she had to face him—to face that which terrified her. I won’t let him see my fear. Spencer swallowed hard to stop the bile rising to her throat as she turned to look at the creature reclined alongside her on the bed, almost like a lover awaiting an invitation. The red man. Before, Spencer had only seen him in her mind. The reality was far worse. He was a man, but not. All his skin had been removed, leaving a red, raw, lean, muscular physique of perfectly formed flesh. It was grotesque to see veins pumping and sinews flexing as his body moved towards hers. His lips held a lecherous smile and his eyes burned with a fever possessed by only the intensely insane.

And dear God—the stench of him. “I will not give in to you.” Spencer rolled away from his grasping hands. She knew if he touched her she’d be gone. How? She wasn’t sure. Spencer just sensed he needed her to be weak and lost and not able to stand up to him. That was his goal. That was what he fed on—her fear meant victory for him.

The red man laughed harshly as if amused at her show of independence. “You will one day and I shall enjoy seeing you a broken woman with no option but to come to me.”

“You do not and will never control me.” Spencer jumped off the bed and forced herself to look into his black eyes. They were as she imagined the pit of hell—fathomless and unforgiving.

“Oh but I will, because you owe me, Spen-cer, and you will pay.”

“I owe you nothing, hell-spawn!” she yelled at him. “Now get the fuck out of my life.”