End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) (39 page)

BOOK: End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1)
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Read on
for a sneak peak at Havoc – Book Two of the Ghost Stories Trilogy!

 

Available
Fall 2016

HAVOC

 

Prologue

 

I hover above, watching
my masterpiece unfold. Flashing lights from dozens of emergency vehicles cover
the town square in a frenetic blue and red pattern. News reporters crowd around
the front of the building, lying in wait for a glimpse of the macabre.
Stretcher after stretcher is wheeled out, full black body bags their cargo. The
massacre occurred as school was letting out for the day. Now it’s close to
midnight and the mess is far from being cleaned up.

Grief, anger, guilt and
blame build in the air and swirl around me. I breathe it all in.

As the night wears on,
the crowd dissipates. I grow tired of watching. My work here is done. Another
town on the horizon is begging for disaster.

In my free form I’m a
mist. If people catch a glimpse of me it’s fleeting; a shadow or dark cloud
passing over the sun. I can still move objects in my natural state, cause goose
bumps to ripple across skin, but once I find a body to manipulate, that’s when
the fun really begins.

 

Humans make perfect
puppets. They’re so malleable, emotional and weak.

 

My last target had been
ideal - a sophomore boy recently dumped by his girlfriend. I sensed his
confusion and rage before I even saw him. The inner turmoil led me right to the
boy. It was so easy for me to slip inside and take control. He didn’t resist
because deep down, I think he wanted to project his pain on others. In a rural
town where every other household has a gun, his home wasn’t any different. Just
like the other towns, this one will be left wondering how such a terrible
tragedy could have happened. Why didn’t peers, teachers or the boy’s parents
pay attention to the warning signs? I laugh because the blame will be placed
elsewhere.

This had been too easy
and my enjoyment is wearing off far too quickly. I crave a challenge.

 

 

***

 

Adele knew she wasn’t
alone in her bedroom before opening her eyes. Whimpers, screams and moans of
people in distress crowded her ears. She pressed her head into the pillow,
hoping for a few more minutes of sleep, but knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Just like before, the noises grew louder, demanding her attention.

She opened her eyes.

Even though her bedroom
was dark she could see them. Each person was wrapped in an ethereal glow. Every
available space in the room was occupied and every face was directed at her.
Some of the faces were streaked with blood, others were completely
unrecognizable. Identifiable features such as cheekbones, noses and eyes were
obliterated by whatever heinous act had ended their lives.

 

This was the third night
in less than two months where Adele had awoken to a scene like this and she
recognized the dark energy pulsating around her. The energy had an odor too,
not sulfur, more like burnt tires. It was cloying, heavy and pressed against
her chest. She sat up, pulling the patchwork quilt with her. Chills shook her
body, but not because she was cold.

 

She was terrified.

Acknowledgments

 

First, here’s a little background
on End of the Road. This is my first book that isn’t set entirely in present
day as it covers every decade from the 1930s up to 2014. This required a lot
more research and fact checking than usual. For example, Frank has a six-pack
of canned beer. I didn’t know if beer was sold in cans back then. Sure enough,
it was and has been available in cans since 1935. When Georgia auditions at a
strip club in Las Vegas in 1968, I had to research the history of the stripper
pole. Turns out the first documented pole dance at a strip joint took place in
Oregon in 1968; artfully performed by Belle Jangles.

 

Early construction in Phoenix had
to be considered too. Back in the 1930’s, Phoenix wasn’t the thriving
metropolis it is today. Air conditioning was in its infancy and for many, the
hot temperatures made living in Phoenix intolerable. With tuberculosis still
plaguing the human population, an arid climate was considered beneficial to
those with respiratory ailments. Even though it was cost prohibitive,
especially during the Depression, hotels and movie theaters had air
conditioning installed. I figured at least City Hall in downtown Phoenix would
have it. While this might not be historically accurate, I stretched it a bit.
This is fiction after all.

 

In the first draft, when
the police show up at Juanita’s door to tell her that her husband is dead, I
originally had one of the officers ask if there was someone they could call,
but Juanita says her phone is disconnected. In rural Mexico where Juanita
lived, phone lines weren’t readily available. Only in bigger cities and even
then the cities weren’t connected. So, I fixed that. Also, the town where
Juanita lived wouldn’t have had enough police support for two officers to show
up. So, I fixed that too.

 

When it came to Bob’s
experience in Vietnam, I needed to make sure I was on the right track. I was fortunate
enough to be able to talk to one of my mom’s colleagues and friends, Peggy
Akers, who served in Vietnam as a nurse for the U.S. Army. Peggy, thank you for
talking with me about your experiences as I know it wasn’t an easy topic to discuss.
Most importantly, thank you for your service.

 

Salsa, you are my source
for all things YCSO. I’m so glad you usually work nights so you’re able to
answer my random texts at all hours. Ha ha! You rock!

 

When it comes to writing,
I miss out on a lot of family time and while it’s hard, I appreciate that my
family understands. They know this is a passion and support me, my husband especially.
He gives me the space I need and the occasional kick in the ass when I’m
procrastinating on Facebook. Thanks, baby!

 

Marlee, Nicole, Shannon,
and Julia, you have been fans of this book for what seems like forever, some of
you since End of the Road began as a short story about Bob. Your words of
encouragement, enthusiasm and feedback helped fuel this journey. Many, many
thanks.

About the Author

 

E.J.
Fechenda has lived in Philadelphia, Phoenix and now calls Portland, Maine home
where she is a wife, stepmom, and pet parent all while working full time.

 

She
has a degree in Journalism from Temple University and her short stories have
been published in
Suspense Magazine
, the 2010 and 2011 Aspiring Writers
Anthologies, and in the
Indies Unlimited 2012 Flash Fiction Anthology.
E.J.
is the author of The New Mafia Trilogy and co-founder of the fiction reading
series, “Lit: Readings & Libations”, which is held semi-quarterly in
Portland.

 

E.J.
can be found on the internet here:

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/EJFechendaAuthor

Twitter
@ebusjaneus (
https://twitter.com/ebusjaneus
)

Tumblr:
http://ejfechenda.tumblr.com/

 

 

 

 

 

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