Bree hated the unknown Darius with a passion normally reserved for mushrooms. Both were fungus, both left a rancid taste in her mouth.
So yes, technically her being in the house was breaking and entering, but Abby knew what she was doing. She’d been psychic since her early teens and she knew her destiny lie in this house with the man she’d repeatedly had visions of. She’d seen herself living in the house with the unknown man so many times she’d actually stopped dating, knowing that he was meant to be her husband, that it was both pointless and a waste of time to see other guys in the meantime.
Now that she was almost done with school, she was back in town to take the money she’d inherited from her grandmother and buy back the house.
Plus finally meet him .
In the silent house, Abby felt comfortable, if a little cold, as she waited.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Within twenty minutes the front door creaked open.
He was here. Just like she’d known he would be.
The man of her dreams, quite literally.
DARIUS Damiano stared up at the hulk of a house he’d bought five years ago and tried not to feel bitter.
“What an old lady house,” Trent, his producer, said. “I seriously cannot picture you living here. What the hell possessed you to buy this?”
Yeah, he was still bitter. “I can’t picture it either. It was an impulse buy.” The van with their cameras and lighting equipment was idling in front of the house. “The crew can unload. I don’t think the house is locked.”
There was nothing in it at all to steal, and Darius had learned early on that the locals in this cow town had a healthy dose of respect for the Murphy woman he had bought it from. A witch, they all said. She cast spells and read tarot. Her older sister moved objects. Her younger sister was psychic.
Darius didn’t believe in any of that crap. Though he had to wonder if Bree were in fact capable of casting spells, because his own lawyer Ian had bought a house with her a week after they started dating, and married her a month after that. It defied logic. No woman was that good in bed, which the only reason Darius could see to fall that head over ass.
“Ohio’s Most Haunted Town, huh?” Rob, his lighting tech, said, looking ruefully up and down the quiet bucolic street. “More like Ohio’s Most Boring Town.”
Having been to plenty of towns that were actually more deserted and desperate than Cuttersville, Damian didn’t think it was an entirely fair description. Here there was still a vibrancy, still the sense that its residents gave a damn about their houses, their community. There were restaurants and shops and a playground in the town square that still had kids climbing on it instead of serving as a open air hostel for vagrants.
It sure in the hell didn’t mean he wanted to live there though, certainly not because he’d had dreams about this house for years.
Annoyed with himself all over again, the way he was every time he thought about this damn house, Darius was about to turn away when he thought the curtain in the front window of the parlor shifted. What the hell? He blinked and it was just a still, empty house like it always had been. Nothing there.
God, he needed a beer and a decent night’s sleep. They’d been filming for his show, Ghost Tracker , for thirty days straight and he was ready to be done. This stop was their last, and he was hoping that when the episode aired it would generate interest in his house. Because he planned to sell this Victorian bitch by spring and be done with it.
“Rob, I think you can come of with a better slur than that, don’t you?” Darius started mentally counting rooms in his head. He had actually only been to the house once before so his memory of the floor plan should have been sketchy. Except he saw it so much in his damn dreams that he knew exactly where everything was, right down to the milk chute. “There’s eight rooms, excluding the bathrooms, so go ahead and set
So yes, technically her being in the house was breaking and entering, but Abby knew what she was doing. She’d been psychic since her early teens and she knew her destiny lie in this house with the man she’d repeatedly had visions of. She’d seen herself living in the house with the unknown man so many times she’d actually stopped dating, knowing that he was meant to be her husband, that it was both pointless and a waste of time to see other guys in the meantime.
Now that she was almost done with school, she was back in town to take the money she’d inherited from her grandmother and buy back the house.
Plus finally meet him .
In the silent house, Abby felt comfortable, if a little cold, as she waited.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Within twenty minutes the front door creaked open.
He was here. Just like she’d known he would be.
The man of her dreams, quite literally.
DARIUS Damiano stared up at the hulk of a house he’d bought five years ago and tried not to feel bitter.
“What an old lady house,” Trent, his producer, said. “I seriously cannot picture you living here. What the hell possessed you to buy this?”
Yeah, he was still bitter. “I can’t picture it either. It was an impulse buy.” The van with their cameras and lighting equipment was idling in front of the house. “The crew can unload. I don’t think the house is locked.”
There was nothing in it at all to steal, and Darius had learned early on that the locals in this cow town had a healthy dose of respect for the Murphy woman he had bought it from. A witch, they all said. She cast spells and read tarot. Her older sister moved objects. Her younger sister was psychic.
Darius didn’t believe in any of that crap. Though he had to wonder if Bree were in fact capable of casting spells, because his own lawyer Ian had bought a house with her a week after they started dating, and married her a month after that. It defied logic. No woman was that good in bed, which the only reason Darius could see to fall that head over ass.
“Ohio’s Most Haunted Town, huh?” Rob, his lighting tech, said, looking ruefully up and down the quiet bucolic street. “More like Ohio’s Most Boring Town.”
Having been to plenty of towns that were actually more deserted and desperate than Cuttersville, Damian didn’t think it was an entirely fair description. Here there was still a vibrancy, still the sense that its residents gave a damn about their houses, their community. There were restaurants and shops and a playground in the town square that still had kids climbing on it instead of serving as a open air hostel for vagrants.
It sure in the hell didn’t mean he wanted to live there though, certainly not because he’d had dreams about this house for years.
Annoyed with himself all over again, the way he was every time he thought about this damn house, Darius was about to turn away when he thought the curtain in the front window of the parlor shifted. What the hell? He blinked and it was just a still, empty house like it always had been. Nothing there.
God, he needed a beer and a decent night’s sleep. They’d been filming for his show, Ghost Tracker , for thirty days straight and he was ready to be done. This stop was their last, and he was hoping that when the episode aired it would generate interest in his house. Because he planned to sell this Victorian bitch by spring and be done with it.
“Rob, I think you can come of with a better slur than that, don’t you?” Darius started mentally counting rooms in his head. He had actually only been to the house once before so his memory of the floor plan should have been sketchy. Except he saw it so much in his damn dreams that he knew exactly where everything was, right down to the milk chute. “There’s eight rooms, excluding the bathrooms, so go ahead and set
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