A Honeybun in Hell

CHAPTER THREE-1

CHAPTER THREE

“HOLY CRAP, WE’RE IN the Munster’s house!” Clovis exclaimed. He couldn’t look happier about it. His blue-gray eyes flashed with excitement as he smiled widely.

Edric laughed. “Wait ‘til you see the rooms.”

“Which one is yours?” Clovis asked.

Edric pointed down the long hallway, to the last door at the end. “I look out over the cemetery.”

“Su-weet!” Heathcliffe exclaimed, tapping knuckles with his older brother. The youngest Honeybun brother, Heathcliffe was a bit of an excitement freak and looked the part, with his perennially stubbled chin, spiky, auburn-colored hair and flashing dark blue eyes. “Okay, let’s synchronize our watches,” Clovis glanced at his watch. “It’s 1700 hours now. We’ll meet in the lobby at 1800 hours and figure out where we’re having dinner.”

They all saluted and Godric slammed his heels together, “Sir, yes Sir!”

Clovis inclined his head, “Later, soldiers.” He turned and strode down the hall like the Marine drill instructor he was, his muscular form oozing confidence and power.

They dispersed and Edric headed to his room, slipping his key into the mechanism on the door and entering when it unlocked. The room looked just as it had when he’d left it, with his suitcase lying across one of the two queen sized beds and his computer open on the table by the window.

Plaithe had told him when he checked in that his room had the only window overlooking the cemetery. The hotel manager had been vague on the reason for it, but it was clear from his comments that the hotel had exploited the fact shamelessly over the years by claiming they’d had to cover the windows on the non-haunted floors because patrons kept being mesmerized by spirits in the cemetery and lured to their deaths, leaping from the windows.

Edric sat down at his computer, fully intending to write a few pages on the Hell novel, but found his gaze continually being drawn to the cemetery below his window. As dusk lowered its shroud over the tidy space three stories below, the tilted and chipped tombstones took on a sad and hopeless look. A haze drifted over the warmer ground as the sun slid away and the air cooled. Thick, impenetrable shadows crept inward from the edges, starting at the base of the mature trees which surrounded the space, and crawling slowly over the graves and benches like blood, until all that was illuminated was the gate into the cemetery, bathed in the soft, unnatural light of the hotel exit.

Something moved within the shadows and Edric’s gaze sharpened on the spot. He laughed as an immensely fat white and gold striped cat waddled into the light and headed for the hotel door.

With the cat’s departure, the cemetery went to sleep and Edric forced his gaze back to the laptop in front of him. He stared at the flashing cursor for several moments before his thoughts strayed to sweet, curvaceous Bella Rawnie.

A witch. No. A Wiccan. He was fascinated by the concept and fully intended to question her in-depth about the religion. Maybe he’d make the heroine in his next book a Wiccan. The required research would be a great excuse to spend time with the lovely Bella.

A darn fine excuse.

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