Deer Creek Drive Novels & Stories

She closed her eyes and felt herself slide loose inside. Jesse Kretch lurched from his truck’s cab into the middle of Clarke Street. Bone-weary from pulling extra shifts at the lumber mill, mind clouded by too little sleep and too many beers, Jesse stared at the fluffy pink mound crumpled atop the embankment alongside Black Creek Bridge. Disjointed puzzle pieces from the last few minutes fell into place. He squinted as he stumbled toward the pile of pink fur . . . please be a deer please be a deer oh God be a deer please

He compliments me while extending his hand and helping me into the car. - "Ditto" - I blush, returning the compliment. Lee's father, Beta Martin Benson, is driving our car. On the passenger's seat next to him is his wife, Kim. Lee and I sat in the back. Four cars take off from the front of the packhouse. The destination is Crescent Moon Pack's territory, Blue Pine Creek, Northeast from where we are. Our pack's territory is called Misty Falls, two hours away, give or take, from Blue Pine Creek. It was named after the waterfalls that were located within our domain. Often, the waterfalls create a mist around the whole area, like a veil. This usually happens first thing in the morning. It's alwa

Out through the pasture, past the windmill and the chicken coop, down the gravel path that led to the main road. Dusty Creek opened up ahead of us like a scene out of another time—dry dirt roads, folks walking with grocery bags or chatting on porch swings, the scent of BBQ already floating through the air from someone’s lunch prep. It was an odd mix of charming and old-souled, with just enough stubbornness to feel like it had roots in the ground. The wind tugged at our clothes, the sun sat like gold above us, and Vanessa leaned back slightly into me, her head turning side to side to take everything in.

"Besides, babe, of all the things I want to do to your body, dumping it in the woods isn't one of them. I promise." This time, my shiver was one of delightful anticipation. "Usually, I'd drive my truck back here, but I think the T-bird can make it." Deacon turned the wheel to avoid a hole in the road. The path twisted for a few more minutes before it ended at a break in the trees, opening to a beautiful crystal blue lake. "Oh, my God, this is amazing." I unbuckled my seat belt and rose onto my knees to see better. I glanced down at Deacon. "So this is where you used to come when you were a kid? Did you go fishing here?"

I look to Ben “Please get me to steady ground before I get sick” I snap laying back on drak “Very well handled Luna” Drake says kissing my temple. I smile watching as we drive through the territory. It was huge, houses littered the area, it was completely off the map and so so beautiful. It even had its own supermarket, fruit and veg stall and a coffee shop slash takeaway and a bar. A huge school building with a football field, a creche and a play park.

The moment their car crossed into Ashwood territory, the forest seemed… softer than usual. Not welcoming, but not hostile either. The wind whispered through the ancient branches, and Rhea felt a strange warmth settle in her chest. Home, something inside her whispered. Dangerous… but home. Kael slowed the G-Wagon as the tall ironwood trees parted, revealing the hidden valley where the Dravens lived. Torches glowed along the walls, casting a warm amber light in the dusk. Smoke rose from chimneys. Laughter echoed faintly.

The truth, whatever his level of involvement, was coming out of him one way or another. I drove us down Montana Creek Road, the nearest outlet into the wilderness. To illustrate how appropriate that word, ‘wilderness’, when Felicia, Kristin, and I first moved to Juneau, a repairman I was quizzing about the local hiking opportunities gave me this advice about Montana Creek: “I wouldn’t go back there without bear mace.” I doubted bears would concern my jock passenger too much, but the seclusion was a different matter. To his credit, he did muster up the courage about halfway along the three-mile stretch of weather-battered road to ask where I was taking him. It might as well have been a rhetor

, Alden spoke in a low tone. On the road, the atmosphere in the car was extremely dull. No one spoke. From time to time, the driver carefully glanced toward the back seat. Even a blind person could perceive that the atmosphere was wrong now. The driver drove silently all the way to the gate of the community area. Once he reached the destination, he felt a little relaxed. Alden saw the two big and bold letters carved on the hoarding "T-Rex Hills" in the neighborhood. He hurriedly said to the driver, "Please stop the car here"

RSS 23 The address on the cream envelope felt heavy in my hand, not like paper, but like a stone. Eleanor Vance. 214 Crestview Lane. The arts district. The driver didn’t speak, and I was grateful. My mind was a roaring static, replaying that sliver of a child’s smile from the hidden photo, the shattered look on Luther’s face in the library.

"You?" I nodded and took his hand to walk to his green Jeep Wrangler, but under my breath I whispered, "Ready as I'll ever be." ~ ~ ~ Quick as a wink, we were driving between the massive stone statues at the end of his parents' long, manicured driveway. We parked near a lively cherub fountain that spewed water at us as we walked past. The near miss startled me, making Devin laugh.