Stranger In My House Book Novels & Stories

His eyes widened in excitement. The first thing that hit us was a wave of dusk, causing me to go have a coughing fit, but curiosity kept me moving inside. Besides the dust, the house looked lived in. There was a big living room with couches, TV, and a piano at the tail end of the room. A shelf on the right side of the wall held random trinkets and a line of pictures. Stephan’s hand guided me towards the pictures. A lot of the pictures were black and white, some of two young boys, some of a family of four, and some of one or the other boys.

I escorted him to through the hallway to the door, and closed my door immediately he was out, releasing a sigh of relief at finally being rid of the stranger that had given me chills all the while I was alone with him in the house. Once he was gone, and I was utterly alone in the house, I realized that I might have actually found a little bit of solace in the stranger's presence. How pathetic could my life get?

She put her glasses on her nose and continued to look at the page. "Are you reading Heinlein?" I looked at the title of her book. "A stranger in a strange land". A lump rose in my throat as I read the title. This had been one of Dad's favorite books. Allora nodded. “Rereading, actually. I love all of the Heinlein stories. She blushed even deeper, as if she'd revealed some deep personal secret. "Me too," I said. The electricity between us surged, pulling me toward her like two opposing charges. — I love the way Heinlen uses Smith's character to force the reader to see his own prejudices.

And I’m glad the man I once shared a reckless night with, became my forever. My Mr. Stranger. THE END…

“May we come in? This isn’t a conversation for a porch.” Something in his tone is calm but heavy like he is carrying years of unspoken things on his shoulders. I hesitate every survival instinct in me screams don’t let strangers in your house but another part of me the orphaned girl who always wanted answers leans forward instead of back. “Fine,” I say finally. “But only for a few minutes.” They step inside carefully looking around my small house like they are trying to memorize every detail the woman’s eyes land on the half-painted nursery down the hall.

She brought me food yesterday when I almost fainted then she stayed over. She cleared her throat. “Let me get you straight. You're moving into a stranger's house, a man you barely know all because of money?” she asked flatly. “Yup,” I said “I can't talk you out of it can I?” she asked. “Nope. A thousand dollars weekly is a lot, plus I won’t have your landlord breathing down my neck.” I responded. “At least send me the address. And if you’re found dead in their house, I’ll hunt every one of them and kill them.”

I couldn't even ask him anything without his bipolarity getting in the way. I wanted to go home. Run away, far away from him. But I couldn't. Unless he let me. With a heavy sigh, I stood up, ambled to the kitchen counter and glanced at whatever he left there. The book of supernaturals. I frowned. Last time I remembered it was in my house, in the kitchen where I was reading it. How did it... My eyes widened as I gasped softly. He was in my house. In my very locked house. Had he been there before, or was it his first time? My mind went back to the strange night with that strange dream and how I couldn't remember going to bed after falling asleep in the balcony.

I headed to the door immediately and placed my hand against it. Someone was in the house. I shoved the book under my skirts. It was time to deal with the intruder.

I muster shaking my head. Right? Right. I stop pacing. Looking at the book again. “Regardless fan or not this is how it starts,” I murmur. “First it’s books, next it’s……what? Watching me sleep? Hiding in my freaking closet?”I grunt out gasping out in shock as I drop the book racing up to my room as I slam doors open searching frantically everywhere for any strangers in sight even down to my wall in closet. Well shit! Finding everywhere in my house empty as I move from room to room I move back to the living room shaking my head.

By the time I reached the house, my chest ached from running. The market’s noise still rang in my ears, but it was the memory of them that had me off-balance. Three strangers. Three… whatever they were. And the way they’d looked at me — like they already owned pieces of me I’d never given. I shoved the thought down before I could feel that strange, magnetic pull again. The front door creaked as I stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of burnt coffee and damp wood.