Page 5 of The Curse of Redwood
“Inspiration can be a fickle thing,” Ben explained. “One day I can be pumped for a story, just to wake up the next day and feel it’s the worst thing to ever come out of my head. Or if I tell someone about an idea and their reaction isn’t what I hoped, it can kill all motivation for a book. I like to get through the beginning chapters before I say anything.”
“I’ll never understand writers,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll never understand men either apparently.”
“Still haven’t moved on from the vampire guy, I take it?”
“His name is Z, not vampire guy. And there’s nothing to move on from. We weren’t together. He’s just a guy I banged last October, nothing more.” I sat forward and put my arms on the table. “But it’s weird I haven’t seen him around town, right? Like that’s not normal. No one’s even heard of him and it’s been months.”
“I still believe he’s a ghost,” Theo said. “You met him at Redwood and have only seen him once more on Halloween, the one day of the year we spirits are allowed to leave our dwellings and venture out into the world. Him being one of the ghosts that haunts Redwood’s halls is the only thing that makes sense.”
“Well, not theonlything that makes sense,” I countered, not wanting to believe Z was actually a ghost. “Maybe he travels for work and was only in Ivy Grove for that one week or something.”
“That theory is logical.” Ben slid a finger along his stubbled jaw. “Traveling for work would explain why no one in town knows him.”
“Shit,” I said, feeling a sinking in my gut. “He gave me a bullshit name because he’s probably married and closeted. I knew he was too good to be true. No wonder he bailed on me so fast. I think I prefer the ghost theory.”
“Ghost lovers are all the rage these days,” Theo said, smiling sweetly. “They never tire. They can… what was that phrase… keep going on and on. All night long.”
Ben nearly spit his water.
“Oh, do tell me more,” I said, resting my chin on my hand. “I’ve always been curious about how having sex with a ghost works.”
“Let’s not discuss that, shall we?” With his cheeks turning pink, Ben cleared his throat and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.
“Fine.” I then asked him about signing a book for Taylor. “It’s his birthday soon. Rich thought it’d be a good gift.”
“I should have copies of Ellwood in my office,” Ben responded. “I don’t carry copies of the other.”
Like most other artists, Ben was extremely hard on himself. His book,Murder in Scottsville, did fairly well when it released, but he’d let the negative reviews get to him. Critics had slammed him for having a ‘contrived and unoriginal’ plot, even though it’d had a decent reader rating. So now he considered the book a failure.
Freaking perfectionist.
After dinner, I followed Ben to his office and watched as he searched through boxes. His dark blond hair had grown longer than the short style he normally kept it, and he hadn’t shaved in days. He must’ve been deep into whatever book he was working on.
It was like the outside world didn’t exist when Ben was swept up in his fictional one.
“Ah! Here it is.” He opened a box and pulled out a hardback ofThe Ghost of Ellwood. He flipped to the title page and wrote a short, personalized message wishing Taylor a happy birthday then signed his name.
“Thanks for doing this, Ben. You know I don’t like asking for favors and stuff just because we’re friends.”
“I know.” He handed me the book. “Besides, I’m happy to do it.”
I leaned against the edge of the desk and stared at the book cover. The cover artist had illustrated a Victorian manor, and a ghostly apparition of a young man appeared in the upstairs window. Though spooky, it had an elegance to it. Definitely an attention grabber.
“Hey, Ben?” I lowered the book and focused on him. “Remember what I said a few weeks ago? About Redwood?”
Ben stepped over to the window, slipping his hands into his pockets. “That you feel like something is calling you back there.”
“Yeah.” I quietly cleared my throat. “It’s getting worse. On my way to your house, I kind of zoned out on the drive and found myself on the road leading to the manor. It really freaked me out. That pull is getting stronger, Ben.”
“You can’t go back,” he said, flipping around to me. Panic filled his brown eyes. “Not after what happened last time we went.”
Ben and I had gone to Redwood in February. That’s when I’d seen the dozens of ghosts… and he’d seenher. Lady Death. Many said she was an omen; a sign that you were on death’s list. Ben had nearly died in May when his house caught fire, just a few months after seeing her. Theo had saved him in the nick of time.
“I don’twantto go back.” My voice shook, much like my hands. “But I’m not sure I have a choice. It’s like trying to fight sleep when you’re running on empty. Eventually, your eyes are gonna close whether you want them to or not.”
Ben swept a hand through his hair. The mention of Redwood always put him on edge. “Didn’t you tell me the place is cursed? Maybe that’s what’s drawing you there.” He stepped toward me, his expression anxious. “Whatever is calling out to you, Carter, is nothing good.”
“I know,” I whispered, feeling the truth of his words in my gut.
