Monday Snippet: Flight From Death

Here’s your Monday Snippet!
FLIGHT FROM DEATH — Book 1 of the Fly By Night Series (a spinoff of Otherworld)Release date: July 7th, 2015. Available for Preorder! If you want an autographed copy, preorder from Seattle Mystery Bookshop.

You can also preorder Autumn Thorns, book one of the Whisper Hollow Series, now!

The Bucklands had ended up in a ramshackle house on the outskirts of town, and they had, as far as I could tell, died out except for their son, who had erected the website. He worked for a local garage as a mechanic, but I had the feeling his life was a far cry from how well-to-do his family had been before Nathan got hold of them.

I sat back, contemplating what I’d found out. Was Terrance Buckland haunting the house? Had he come back to haunt Nathan and stuck around? Or was Nathan haunting his own house in sort of a Jacob Marley sort of fashion?

Jotting down my thoughts, I returned to the search engine and typed in “Terrance Buckland” and “Port Townsend.” That brought up a whole different realm of results.

The Buckland family had been of Gypsy descent, over from England not long before the turn of the 20^th century. They had journeyed west and ended up in Port Townsend during the early days when it was still a thriving town, hoping to be the port city of Washington. As the town took a nose dive, though, the Bucklands thrived. They managed to make it through the decades during which Port Townsend turned into almost a ghost town.

During the 70s, as the hippies discovered the jewel of a city, city-wide renovations began to take place, pushing the town into a prime tourism destination. The Bucklands rode the top of the wave. But then, Nathan Striker entered the picture and in one fell swoop, during the late 80s, he had managed to destroy everything the family had built, foreclosed on their house, and the friendship between Nathan and Terrance vanished into the dust in a war over money.

So the Buckland family had every reason to hate Nathan Striker. I added Toby Buckland—Terrance’s only living relative—to the list of people we should talk to, though I figured we might want to leave out the part about Patrick being Nathan’s friend.

I glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty. Feeling charitable, I rinsed off our breakfast dishes and stuck them in the dishwasher. As I was bending over, somebody pinched my butt. Hard.

Startled, I stood up so fast I clipped the top of my head on the counter. With a groan, I leaned against the granite, wincing. “Enough, already. Stop it.”

A low laugh echoed through the kitchen and as I glanced in the sink, I saw a bubble of blood rising from the drain. “Holy fuck—stop it. Just stop it!”

The laughter continued and I slammed the dishwasher door shut and backed away. As I turned around, a plate flew off one of the shelves and whirled past me, just missing me. I ducked as a teacup followed suit.

“Get out…” The voice rumbled low as the lights in the kitchen flickered off and on. Easing back, I stepped out of the room, and waited. A moment later, the heavy atmosphere vanished and I eased my way back in. The energy had lightened and when I glanced into the sink, it was clear—no sign of blood.

I turned on the dishwasher and went in to wake Ralph. If we didn’t do something soon, Patrick’s vision of a bed and breakfast would remain just that.