Well, that should do it,” the handyman said to Julie as he pulled and tested the anchor bolt. “This is hooked into a support beam and reinforced with a 4 by 4 of treated lumber. Basically, this should support anything you wanna hang from it.”

“Good, I want it that strong. Who knows who is going to sit in this chair if we throw a party and we wouldn’t want the hook pulling out or bending,” she said motioning to the rattan basket chair laying on the floor. “Well this hook is tempered steal...

It was a lonely place, devoid of life except that which preyed upon the dead or dying. Spiders hid in corners and waited for passing hopes to be caught in their webs to be devoured at leisure. The door to the crypt was rusted shut so that even those wishing to come here had to prove their worth in unlocking the ancient mechanisms. A newer lock secured the door yet further with a tempered steal deadbolt that denied even the most dedicated of trespassers. In all, the place was barren . . . that was why he cam...

The beginning of night, so timid and so ripe, embraced them. The shadows deepened as they watched. The woods around faded into a jungle of dark things writhing in the wind and became claws reaching to the sky, screaming silently. The cold night air bothered neither of them even though they were nude, their clothing lying in a pile by two large jugs of water. Their skin at first fading and then brilliantly white in the rising moonlight, alabaster breasts and bellies . . . their curves like some wondrous land...