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Timothy Waters had the distinct impression that he was being watched. His hand hovered just over the page with a blood-red pencil gripped tightly between his fingers. He was preparing to turn around and confront the intruder when he was startled by a flying blur of blackness. Timothy jumped in fright, as his sketchbooks scattered and pencils went tumbling off onto the polished floorboards joined shortly afterward by his Superman figurine.

“Mikey!” exclaimed Timothy, as he bent over and began to pick up the mess.

Timothy turned to face the bed and looked at the thoroughly unrepentant kitty, who was now sitting amongst the pillows, cleaning his silky, midnight-black fur and purring contentedly. He wasn’t truly cross with the frisky feline but he would’ve preferred that Mikey – whose full name was Michelangelo – refrain from the almost daily high-speed circuits of his room. Mikey was rather an affectionate thing and usually came in for snuggles every morning, even though Timothy would have preferred an entirely different wild creature in his bed.

Beggars can’t be choosers.

Technically, Mikey wasn’t actually his, but belonged to the apartment that Timothy had moved into a month beforehand – well as much as a cat would consent to belonging to anything. The owner of the apartment, Miles, in addition to being a strapping specimen with a swarthy complexion, was also his roommate. He was around Timothy’s age with a head of dark curls, crystal-blue eyes and a dusting of short dark hair on his arms and legs that drove Timothy to distraction. Sadly – well in Timothy’s opinion at any rate – Miles was decidedly straight…if the female squeals and shrieks of pleasure that he’d heard regularly ringing through the bedroom walls were any indication.

Timothy turned back to the desk, tucked a wayward lock of hair behind his ear and picked up his pencil to recommence his drawing. His eyes focused intently on the page before him as a figure slowly took shape. He was a graphic artist by trade and thanks to the wonders of the modern age was able to work from home. Timothy worked mostly with an agency that handled corporate clients, designing logos and the like. His reliability and professionalism had stood him in good staid and the agency kept him busy with a steady stream of projects. While it paid the bills, Timothy didn’t find it overly stimulating, as he was often quite limited in his designs by the conservative briefs dictated by the clients. To maintain his creativity, Timothy took on the occasional freelance job drawing for graphic novels. Comic books had been a passion of his from childhood, although these days he preferred those of a more adult nature. From time to time he would tinker with his own characters, but hadn’t ever really managed to put them together into an interesting story – apart from placing muscle-bound men in all sorts of compromising positions that is.

Timothy had only recently moved back home to Port Davinica, after spending the last five years in Europe…mostly in Paris. When he’d first returned, Timothy had been staying with his parents but they’d soon lapsed back into treating him as if he was thirteen instead of thirty-three – as is often the case when adult offspring return to the nest – and he’d had to escape before he was tempted into a spot of double homicide. He had searched through the classifieds for a month, encountering all sorts of dumps and dubious characters, until he had finally met Miles through a friend of a friend.

Initially, Timothy had thought it all too good to be true. Not only was his new roommate handsome and friendly, but the apartment itself was practically luxurious. It was located one floor down from the penthouses in Graywood Gardens, in one of the trendiest areas of the city. His room was almost the size of his parents’ lounge room, with a large en suite and had stunning views over the city. The rest of the apartment was spacious, light and airy, and tastefully decorated with an eclectic mix of modern and Art Deco pieces. Admittedly, he probably would have lived in a hovel if he’d been able to share it with Miles.

What had aroused Timothy’s suspicions, however, was how low the rent was given the location and the size. Before he’d agreed to move in, Timothy had tentatively broached the subject with Miles.

“I don’t really need the money and I like the companionship,” Miles had explained. “Although, I was starting to think I’d have to give it away.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, to be honest, you’d be the third new roommate in as many months.”

“Really? What happened?”

“No idea. Both only lasted a few weeks before giving notice but not really explaining why, just that it wasn’t working out.”

“Can’t imagine why. The place is great!”

“I know. I’m starting to get a complex that it’s me.”

Even though Miles laughed when he said it, Timothy thought there might be a kernel of truth in his words. His curiosity was piqued but Timothy didn’t want to push the matter any further. He liked Miles and loved the apartment and didn’t particularly want to lose either of them, so he pushed his concerns to the side and moved in.

Three weeks passed without incident and Timothy had settled into a routine of sleeping in late – he was in by no means a morning person – and spending the afternoons working at the big oak desk in his bedroom. Timothy’s worry about the high turnover of previous roommates had all but faded away…and then the dreams began.

Lust After Death

Excerpt:

eBook ISBN 978-1-909934-96-2

Cover Price: 2.99

Length: 142 pdf Pages / 25220 words

Gay, Romance, Paranormal

Heat rating: 4