Bouncer Post #28

Title: Second Hand Lace

Genre:  Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Word Count: 57 500

Query:

If Elizabeth Lacet had to describe her life in one word, that word would be great. She has the man, the house, and finally has the job.  As Halloween quickly approaches, she starts to notice strange occurrences that make her question how good her life really is. At first, it’s nothing more then the occasional icy draft but things escalate quickly. When she has a terrifying vision of another life, she finally confides in her boyfriend, Jasper.  At first, Jasper brushes off the vision as an over-indulged Halloween coincidence. But soon, even Jasper finds it hard to ignore her sudden onslaught of musical abilities and a knack for French. After an Ouija board experience fit for a movie set, Jasper and Elizabeth dive into the world of the occult as the changes within Elizabeth begin to rapidly accelerate.

Nearly one hundred years in the past Catherine,  a young socialite, begins to feel like her life is falling apart for a completely different reason. Her fiancé, Thomas, has been exhibiting questionable behavior of his own. Unfortunately for Catherine, it isn’t an apparition troubling her, but a very real school teacher. Refusing to believe the town gossips, Catherine vows to do anything necessary to keep her relationship, and reputation, in tact. At first, she innocently plots and nothing more than a ruined gown comes of it.  After a visit to a witch doctor yields promising results, Catherine begins to take her sinister acts to the next level in hopes of keeping Thomas all to herself.

As Elizabeth battles a vengeful spirit, Catherine slips into a darkness she never imagined possible. The two women’s lives become inexplicably intertwined as they fight for their loves, and their lives.

First 250:

October 31^st, 1920                                                                                                                            

Catherine Abrams

When someone is on the verge of death you can see it in their eyes. When my grandfather passed away, I sat next to him and stroked his withered hand until he drifted off. His expression seemed happy, almost as though he was returning to a pleasant dream.

Thomas does not look peaceful. Even now, though the bleeding has started to slow, he looks terrified. Looking down, I can see my name on his lips and smell the faint musk of his cologne..

I truly thought cutting his throat would have been a quick death, but alas, he is taking his time. I lean forward and let my lips brush his slick forehead, before taking the pillow from under his head. I place it over his face and push down. At first I am gentle, and then with the thought of her in his embrace, I push harder. He feebly bats at my arms with his bloodstained hands as sweat beads on my forehead. His efforts start to come fewer and far between before he is finally still. The room is thick with silence. I lift the pillow off his face and peer down. His mouth has twisted into a ghoulish grin and his clear blue eyes are staring blankly ahead.

“Oh my sweet Thomas, how did this happen to us?” I say as a powerful ache catches my words. I take the straight razor, that just moments before killed my fiancé, and raise it to my own delicate wrists. I start slowly, pressing the cool steel into my wrists, watching curiously as it bites into my ivory skin.