Teaser Thursday: Blindsided

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A forward peek at the upcoming new novel due for release in December 2020.

By D.G. Torrens

Cassie rubbed her wrist with her thumb until it was red raw.

“Do you remember anything from that day, Cassie?”

The question unnerved her. She turned away briefly while contemplating her answer.

The therapist waited patiently for a reply. She observed Cassie while taking notes.

Cassie shook her head and dipped her eyes.

“That’s okay. Your memory will return eventually. It has only been three months. The brain is a complex organ and serves to protect us against trauma. Your mind has shut down and will return when you are better able to cope with the events of that day.”

Cassie looked up and studied Jennifer Clayton. A tall, slender woman with sleeked back hair tied at the nape of her neck. She wore minimal makeup and dressed in an understated trouser suit. Cassie thought she looked more like a teacher than a therapist.

“It’s okay Cassie. Anything you reveal in our sessions is strictly confidential. This is a safe place. You can trust me.”

Jennifer observed Cassie’s behaviour noticing her arms cradling her torso. Her shoulders hunched forward, and feet turned inwards. Typical shielding behaviour she noted.

“How are you sleeping?” continued Jennifer.

“Not good. I have nightmares.”

“Do you want to talk about them?”

Cassie fell silent.

“We don’t have to talk about them today,” piped Jennifer.

Cassie rose to her feet and slipped her bag on her shoulder.

“Same time next week, Cassie?”

Cassie offered a weak nod and left. She hurried down the stairs and burst through the doors into the street. She paused, inhaling a deep breath. Droplets of rain brushed against her skin. She felt terrible for lying to Jennifer. She did remember something. Something so shocking she could not reconcile with it. The truth was too painful to acknowledge.

Blindsided

Blindsided is a new novel by the inimitable D.G. Torrens, in the vein of her psychological character portraits like Finding You, Broken Wings and Forbidden.

Blindsided is set for publication worldwide no later than March 2021.

D.G. Torrens

is the author of 14 books, including the bestselling trilogy, Amelia’s Story #1, Amelia’s Destiny #2 and Amelia The Mother #3. This is an emotion-charged true story that the author wrote for her daughter.

D.G is a mother/writer/blogger who has a dream to inspire as many people as possible through her story. To show those with little hope that dreams can come true.

Born in England, passionate about writing, D.G. Torrens is married with a daughter. Her first book, Amelia’s Story, has inspired people all over the world. Amelia’s Destiny, book #2 is the sequel and is followed by Amelia The Mother book #3 in this awe-inspiring trilogy. A memoir that remains with D.G.’s readers long after they have put the book down …

D.G is a prolific writer and in 2013, her works were recognized by BBC Radio WM, where she has given several live interviews in the BBC studios in Birmingham, UK. Thereafter, D.G. became a regular Headline Reviewer for the radio show for the next 12 months.

Visit her on:

And follow her on Twitter @torrenstp.

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The Vampire Washing Machine

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A silly Spooktober treat for fright lovers

By Scott Bury

The power went out with drawn-out squeaks from every electronic device in the house. Rodney noticed the full moon shining through the window.

“Glad I didn’t close the blinds earlier,” he muttered. Then he swore as the soapy plate slipped from his fingers and smashed on the floor. In the dark, he cut a finger on a shard and held back another oath as he heard a growl.

Spooky haunted talking dishwasher by Adrian Loveless

The only light in the kitchen was the moon reflecting off the front of the dishwasher. It growled again and rattling came from the cutlery inside it.

How could it do that when the power’s out, Rodney wondered. He wrapped a paper towel around his cut finger and bit back another oath when he saw a drop of blood, black in the dim light, hit the floor in front of the dishwasher.

The machine growled again and the door flung open. “Goddamn!” Rodney stepped back and tripped, flopping onto his butt on the vinyl floor.

His heart pounding, he looked closer at the dishwasher. Somehow, two steak knives had become tangled in the rack and were hanging down from either side like fangs. To his horror then, the door slowly rose, closing by itself.

“Come closer,” said a voice.

Rodney looked around. “Who said that?”

“You know who—or rather, what. Come closer.”

“The dishwasher?” I’ve been working too hard.

“Not just any dishwasher. Is your finger all right?”

“No, it hurts like hell. I have to put some peroxide on it.”

“Do not do that!” said the dishwasher. “Put your finger in my—that is, on the edge of the door.”

Rodney did not know why he complied, but he put his finger on the lip of the door. It snapped closed with his finger somehow wedged inside and he felt the dishwasher sucking on it. He pulled it out with a gasp. “What are you doing?”

“I want your blood,” said the dishwasher.

“A vampiric dishwasher?” Rodney put his finger in his own mouth. It tasted soapy, but the blood flowed freely. “I’m losing it.”

The door flung open again. “Give me your blood!” the dishwasher cried. A red glow came from deep in the back. Rodney could not tear his eyes from it.

The glow came closer and closer, brighter and brighter until Rodney realized, too late, that his head was completely inside the dishwasher. Obeying a silent command in his head, he twisted around to look up. The door slammed shut and drove his throat onto the steak knife.

Photo by Simon Moore on Unsplash

Rodney only struggled for a few seconds as his blood drained into the dishwasher cavity. When his heart stopped, the dishwasher sighed deeply.

The moonbeam moved off the dishwasher. The door fell forward under Rodney’s weight and his body rolled onto the floor.

The noise drew Kelly, Rodney’s widow, into the kitchen. “Rodney? Are you getting some candles?” In the moonlight that was now reflecting off the toaster, she saw Rodney’s body on the floor.

She didn’t even have time to scream before the toaster-wolf sprang on her from the counter and tore out her throat.

What’s sexier to suburbanite adults today than really great kitchen appliances?

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