HOUSE CALL by DARDEN NORTH, MD PROLOGUE Its metal casing rusted by years of moisture, the glass doorknob creaked as it turned slowly to the right. Steaming water pouring from the nearby faucet masked this sound as well as that of the approaching footsteps, soft as they crossed the damp tile floor. Taylor firmly squeezed the plastic bottle, releasing salon conditioner in streaks over her freshly shampooed hair. Leaning forward to rinse, she felt a firm hand grab the highlighted strands.With her head angled severely backwards, screaming was impossible, particularly as the conditioner rolled down onto her face and mouth. Now almost entirely submerged in the slippery bathtub, Taylor Richards could not struggle but only gag and cough. Moments later her chest exploded, tearing and burning, as the thrusts between her ribs were swift and repeated. Blood pouring from the punctures mixed with the soapy water, forming a red scum on the sides of the porcelain tub. Glancing hopelessly at the bat...
Novels of Southern Fiction