Witch Creek Road Novels & Stories

Now she was excited to see this damned furnace. They made a beer run a while later and Ashleigh finally had a chance to see the beauty of Cobb Hill. She decided that it was not technically a mountain but it was steep and beautiful. Butch had come along to help load the liquor and it was he pointed out the blind bend in the road where Walt had met his death.

"He's an asshole." Chal chuckled. "I agree. Do you know if he has any out of town properties?" His finger stroked down her arm, keeping her relaxed and calm. "Maybe down by the lake or ... I don't know ... in the mountains." "There is ... I heard there is a place in the mountains. It's just gossip, Chal. But I heard it's off Route 20 up by Bascome creek." Chal moved closer, staring down into her big blue eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart. I owe you more than you will ever know." He blinked and she shook her head slightly.

Here's Chapter 6: The Mouthless Trench from River Witch II: The Salt-Blooded, expanded to 500 words and blended slightly with the tension that begins to rise in Chapter 7—without revealing too much too early. The ocean had moods, and tonight, it sulked. The crew of the Red Whisper had grown eerily quiet. Even the usual murmurs and crude jokes faded into silence as the boat neared the coordinates etched into the back of Solana’s vision—coordinates whispered by water, dreamed in salt. Ahead, the sea deepened into a ravine locals called The Mouthless Trench, a place avoided even by the boldest fishermen.

Alex looked confused. But neither argued. Within minutes gear was packed and we were rolling out. Three hours later we reached the outskirts of Crescent Creek territory. The ride had been long. Silent. Heavy. No one pushed me to talk and I appreciated it more than I could say. We were driving down the gravel road leading toward the Crescent pack house when the scent hit me. Sharp. Bitter. Poisonous. Wolfsbane. Faint… but unmistakable. I rolled the window down immediately and leaned slightly toward the wind.