Nobody's Home: A Tarker's Hollow Tale Read online

  Nobody’s Home

  A Tarker’s Hollow Tale

  Tasha Black

  13th Story Press

  Contents

  Tasha Black Starter Library

  Nobody’s Home

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Tasha Black Starter Library

  About the Author

  Curse of the Alpha: The Complete Bundle

  Copyright © 2016 by 13th Story Press All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: October, 2016

  13th Story Press PO Box 506 Swarthmore, PA 19081

  [email protected]

  Cover design 2016 by Sylvia Frost

  http://sfrostcovers.com

  Tasha Black Starter Library

  Packed with steamy shifters, mischievous magic, billionaire superheroes, and plenty of HEAT, the Tasha Black Starter Library is the perfect way to dive into Tasha's unique brand of Romance with Bite!

  Get your FREE books now!

  Nobody’s Home

  The house is haunted and there are monsters in the woods…

  Adia Booth has a dubious gift she has always tried to ignore, losing herself instead in books, and in service to others through her work as a real estate agent. When she finds herself alone after dark at Ogden Manor, the broken down mansion her colleagues claim is haunted, she is terrified to find a man in the house. Though his devastating beauty enthralls her, Adia is convinced it is her destiny to die in his arms. So why isn’t she afraid?

  After a century of drowning his guilt in wanton debauchery, William Ogden has returned to the old family estate to go down with the rotting house. The intoxicating scent of the young woman who visits the estate at night awakens his blood thirst, but her blue-eyed gaze stirs something deeper. Wracked with guilt, yet half-crazed with lust, William struggles to restrain his hunger for the girl with the uncanny gift. But when the moon rises, will his desire to protect Adia from what waits in the woods outmatch his determination to stay hungry?

  1

  Adia Booth gazed up at the framed photograph above the mantel.

  Its occupant coolly returned her stare through a thin layer of dust. The man’s dark, too-long hair nearly brushed his stiff collar, his stalwart expression at odds with his lively eyes.

  The age of the photograph would have told any admirer the subject was long dead. Adia knew from her research that she was looking at one of the last owners of the property she’d come to see - the run-down mansion known as Ogden House.

  The solemn man in the portrait was in every way unlike the very real couple who had accompanied Adia here today.

  Todd Filbertson “and Jenna” as they were known to Adia’s smartphone, were very much alive and kicking. The two clients were an engaged couple who had called Tarker’s Hollow Realty Group just a month ago. However, Adia felt she had known them much, much longer.

  In the course of the last few weeks, she had shown them every house in the school district, but none had met with Todd’s seal of approval.

  Adia suspected this was because he was too busy fixing “and Jenna” with his seal of approval. He had kissed, pinched, tickled, and snuggled the poor girl through every single home they’d seen. Adia had no idea how he managed to end each visit with the cocky determination that each home had “potential, but I wouldn’t pay this much for it.” As far as Adia could tell, he’d hardly taken the time to look around.

  For her part, “and Jenna” was not complaining. No amount of attention from Todd Filbertson could muss her golden curls, nor dislodge the steady pace at which she chewed fragrant mint gum during each visit. “and Jenna” was quite satisfied with whatever-Todd-thinks. The obscenely large diamond on her left ring finger probably helped matters considerably in that area. But the softer side of Adia suspected that “and Jenna” was the delightful kind of woman who could smoothly forgive the ones she loved their foibles, and didn’t much care where she lived, so long as her home was full of love.

  Adia was not that delightful type of woman, herself.

  That’s why you’re showing the Todd Filbertson and Jenna’s of the world houses instead of gazing at your own diamond ring.

  There was a grain of truth in the thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to really be disappointed. Adia liked her life. Books and houses had always been her true loves, and she spent plenty of time with both. It didn’t mean she didn’t feel lonely sometimes. And couples like this only aced as a reminder of what she didn’t have. Even if she was far to opinionated to ever be anyone’s “and Adia”.

  A soft slurping sound drew her attention. She saw that Todd was actually kissing his fiancée on the mouth and she wondered fleetingly if his interference with her gum would finally set Jenna off.

  But it didn’t. As a matter of fact, Jenna seemed to be more moved by his advances than usual.

  Todd slid his hands around to rub and squeeze Jenna’s perfectly round bottom.

  Oh, god, they were probably going to do it.

  No, no, they’re not going to do it, Adia told herself firmly.

  But when Jenna whimpered softly, Adia couldn’t help turning back to look.

  The veins on Todd’s muscular arms stood out a little and he was kissing Jenna so hard, it looked almost vicious.

  Before her eyes, Todd backed Jenna up against the wall and ground his hips into hers.

  Adia was shocked.

  Her cheeks burned as she realized that her own body was reacting to the sight in spite of herself. She could practically feel hands on her own ass, a hard cock grinding against her own belly.

  She turned on her heel and slipped back into the front parlor where they couldn’t see her and where she wouldn’t be tempted to stare.

  Adia, don’t be pathetic. You’re twenty-six years old, not some desperate spinster.

  “Oh, Toddy,” came a louder moan from the front parlor.

  Toddy?

  The absurdity of the situation crashed down on her like one of the house’s big crystal chandeliers hitting he floor. Adia pressed her lips together and tried not to erupt in a fit of laughter.

  Were they finally going to go for broke here? In the house she hadn’t shown them before because it was in such disrepair that no one in her office ever showed it?

  Adia surveyed her neglected surroundings.

  Two different sets of buyers had hit a wall trying to restore this old place. Eventually, it had been foreclosed on. The old wallpaper hung from the walls in strips, and fuzzy mold dotted the kitchen. There was scarcely a window without a crack or a pane missing. And of course, everything had a layer of dust and grime and an air of forlorn abandonment.

  It was like something out of one of those scary movies - the ones she had bravely pretended to like in front of the other kids when she was younger, despite secretly keeping her eyes squeezed tight through all of the “good” parts.

  It didn’t help that when she had logged the showing, the crew at her office had actually made a big fuss about it, pretending to take bets on whether or not she would make it out alive. They all claimed the ho
use was haunted and the woods around it were full of howling monsters.

  Which was complete nonsense, of course.

  It was true that the house was on a wooded flag lot. To get to it, Adia had driven off the main road onto a dirt drive for a mile or two, around a small hill, past two farmhouses and a another house with a stone barn and ponies out in the field. Thick woods stood between the dwellings, and fallen trees had clearly been dragged off the roadway after recent storms.

  But when they finally made it back to the circular drive of Ogden House, she had been able to see the back entrance to the new construction project - a gathering of McMansions on the hill just above the house, closed off with a metal gate that seemed to be permanently shut.

  Even this far off the beaten path you couldn’t escape the suburban sprawl. If you owned Ogden House and its three remaining acres and various outbuildings, the world was literally at your doorstep.

  But she had still loved it, from the moment its mansard roof came into view around the hillside.

  Adia had secretly always wanted to show this house. She loved local history, and the Ogden’s old mansion was the setting of so many parties and events in its prime - probably every town figure she’d read about had been here at one time or another.

  And then of course, there was the incident.

  Before she had time to think about it, a flash of something broke her concentration.

  Not a movement, exactly, but an otherness. Like she had been somewhere else for a second.

  She shook her head to clear the cobwebs. That was super weird, and probably a product of having skipped lunch to come up here.

  Adia walked past the fireplace, one of five or six in this house, to the front windows.

  They looked out over an open front porch, which in turn looked over the lawn which ran flat like a pancake for a hundred yards or so, then dropped off dramatically. Below, the freight rail line made an ugly path like a pretty child smiling to reveal cheap braces. But at one time, the owner of this house could have looked out and seen nothing that he didn’t own for gorgeous, green miles.

  Adia checked the time on her phone. It would be getting dark soon.

  She turned again, intending to pace from one end of the parlor to the other - no small distance - when the odd feeling hit her again.

  Suddenly, she was looking at a clean, bright room. Oriental rugs covered a pristine heart of pine floor the color of a baby fox. A fire crackled in the grate. Music drifted in through an open window.

  She blinked in wonder.

  It was gone. The floor was a wasteland of snot-colored carpet, the fireplace full of cobwebs. What was the matter with her?

  She took off her glasses and wiped them with the microfiber cloth she kept in her pocket before putting them back on.

  The feeling wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. Ever since she was a little girl, Adia had what she thought of as insights. Sometimes, she would touch a thing, or meet a person and get a glimpse of them as they once were. But it always had a sort of foggy, dreamlike feel to it, like an out of focus picture with a bad Instagram filter on it, and it was always over in a flash.

  For most of her adult life, she would go for months without getting one of those insights. But lately, over the past year or so, it was happening more and more often - like something was boosting her weird signal.

  Usually, it didn’t bother her - in fact, she kind of enjoyed it. But this was different. It wasn’t like she was seeing a faded image of the house in its former glory, it was like she was actually in the house during that time, up close and personal.

  You need lunch, she told herself sternly. You should carry a granola bar with you.

  But her heart was pounding and her skin tingled with awareness.

  She ignored the sensations and walked briskly through the parlor, past the fireplace, her reflection keeping pace in the tarnished mirror above the mantel.

  She entered the kitchen. The damp, dark space had endured a ghoulish remodel at some point in the late 1960s. It was her least favorite room in the house, but it was decidedly not going to pique Adia’s runaway imagination. The faux tile vinyl floor and stained cherry cabinets would knock all the romance out of her head.

  A thousand mouse droppings on the floor led her eye directly to the place where an unfortunate refrigerator with a leaky water line had been. Between the moldy wall and the mushy floor beneath, it seemed almost as if the refrigerator itself had literally disappeared of embarrassment.

  More likely though, its carcass had simply been dragged into one of the outbuildings. There were three of them, one an old barn, one a stable, one more a metal warehouse like you’d see in Amish country. Each was packed to the gills with the cast-offs of a few hundred lifetimes. Someone along the line had been a “collector” or more accurately a hoarder. And they’d lucked into a property with the capacity to take what they dished out.

  The evil odor of mildew and broken dreams in the kitchen proved too much for her, and Adia found herself pacing the back parlor once more, nodding in bemused acknowledgement to her tarnished reflection as she took in the dark wainscoting, the fireplace, the bright windows, the hauntingly beautiful view, and back and forth again.

  When, after minutes that felt like hours, Todd and Jenna joined her in the parlor, Adia was feeling much more herself.

  They continued their distracted examination of the house and surroundings, Jenna’s body being as thoroughly roved over as the hauntingly beautiful grounds, the abandoned swimming pool, the playground equipment, the rusted out boats and sewing machines and plastic doll babies that filled the out buildings.

  By the time they reached the circular drive again, the sun was setting pink over the trees.

  “Well, it has potential,” Todd explained to Adia, rubbing Jenna’s bottom so diligently Adia wondered if he was trying to see his reflection in it.

  “For the right buyer,” Adia agreed, knowing these two certainly weren’t the right buyers.

  “But I wouldn’t pay this much for it,” Todd smirked.

  “Oh, what would you say it’s worth?” Adia asked with innocent eyes, unable to resist.

  Todd didn’t the hell know what it was worth. For that matter, Adia didn’t either, this was a house that would require hard work and experience to value - it was a massive property but in deplorable condition, and there were no comparable homes.

  “What’re they asking?” he tried to remember, pausing the simonizing of Jenna’s posterior to postulate.

  “Four hundred thousand,” Adia replied.

  “It’s worth no more than two,” he said immediately with a smug grin.

  Adia hid a smile of her own. A one-acre lot had just sold on a busy street for two hundred thousand in the district. This was three plus acres on a private road. Teardown and removal even with all the junk was no way going to cost a hundred thousand. And that assumed the house couldn’t be saved, which she was sure was not the case. He had come up with his number as he always did: by dividing the asking price in half.

  “You two are going to find something move-in ready,” Adia predicted lightly, biting back her own opinion that they would probably find it in a year or so. The poor guy just didn’t get it yet.

  “I’m not opposed to a fixer, so long as it’s a good value,” Todd shrugged.

  “What do you think, Jenna?” Adia asked.

  Jenna looked up at Adia like she was surprised to see her there.

  “Oh, um, I don’t really know anything about this stuff. Whatever Todd thinks is great with me,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling conspiratorially, as if Adia were also a charter member of the Todd-knows-best fan club.

  Adia smiled back, glad that Jenna was happy. She worked with plenty of couples who fought each other tooth and nail. Todd and Jenna might be a little touchy-feely, but at least they were cheerful. Whatever house they eventually bought would not be for sale again anytime soon.

  The thought gave Adia a warm feeling inside. She really did like her job.


  They waved good-bye and she watched Todd’s white SUV disappear into the trees.

  She headed over to her own little Saab. It was getting dark now, the sky glowed a fading pink through the trees.

  Adia turned back to give the house one more glance in the receding light.

  Its dark silhouette loomed, the nearby branches of an overgrown sycamore reaching toward the immovable shape of the turret.

  All around, the trees were filling with the sounds of evening: night birds and crickets joined the chorus of cicadas and frogs, accented by the scrape of the sycamore branches against the slate roof.

  Only Ogden House itself was mute and still. So much so that Adia imagined it as a sort of vacuum, absorbing and dampening anything that came its way.

  Just then, as if the house wanted to prove her wrong, Adia swore she saw a hint of movement inside.

  Pushing her glasses up her nose, she scanned the darkened windows. She didn’t catch anything, but the whole thing had begun to creep her out.

  Her pulse quickened. She turned and trotted back to her car. She couldn’t unlock it fast enough - fumbled the key in the ignition on her first try.

  At last, the engine turned and she almost shot out of her seat. She’d left the radio on a little loud when she’d pulled up. And now that stupid Jocelyn Wilde break-up song blasted at her - the one they wouldn’t stop playing, about the drummer.

  Adia turned off the radio, half in disgust with the song - Jocelyn Wilde clearly hadn’t realized she wasn’t an “and Jocelyn” yet - and half because she needed to concentrate on the road.

  While the winding dirt and gravel drive had been vaguely reminiscent of Girl Scout camp on the way in, it now felt sinister and dangerous. With the branches overhead swaying against the darkening sky, Adia couldn’t help but think about the implications of all the fallen trees freshly pulled from the path.