I sometimes wonder if I haven’t read too many books. But how can one read too much? How can that be a bad thing?
Well, the other morning I started to wonder if it was, and I’m sure my hubby was thinking the same thing, because he had to sort of rescue me. I started out to my car, which is parked in a garage, and halted at the door. Something wasn’t quite right. It seemed very dark for some reason, and it took me a moment to figure out what was missing. Then it registered…
The light was out.
Now, a normal person would simply pull out her cell phone, the glow of which could be seen on Mars, and head out, darkness be damned. I, however, hesitated, my zoetrope of scenarios whirring away in my adrenaline-fueled imagination. Every book I’ve ever read where a person starts to go somewhere and a light is out, yet the person continues forward, has ended badly for the person. Naturally, then, my mind spun with the possibilities. The most logical was that the light bulb to the garage door light had gone out—plain, simple, boring. However, logic has never been my strong suit, so I immediately veered from “logical” to “What if?” and finally to “better safe than sorry.”
In other words, because I wasn’t sure that someone or something with murderous intentions wasn’t hiding in my garage and hadn’t unscrewed the light bulb in my garage’s overhead light, my husband ended up standing at the door to make sure I made it twenty feet to the safety of my little car (that, if a fly farted in it the right way, would fly into pieces on the highway).
This is how I think, but I can’t be the only one. How many times have you read a book in which the lights had been knocked out on purpose so some nefarious bad-doer could engage in a variety of bad doings? And what happens then? That’s right—some dorky secondary (or thirdary) character like the expendable, red-shirted Star Trek guys blunders across a serial killer or a mob hit man or a mummy or a mutant hedgehog with revenge on its mind, and that’s the last time he’s ever seen with all his body parts in one location.
So, with my imagination working in overdrive, I woke my hubby up to watch me to my car, just in case something sinister was at hand. To his credit, he stumbled to the door with me without question, the only statement he made being, “No one could get in our garage. It’s secure.” To which I replied, “What if some alien life-form transformed itself into something that could slither under the wall or through the window into the garage and wait for me?”
Still patient, he sighed and threw his man logic at me: “If the alien life form had the skills to transform itself to slither into the garage, it certainly wouldn’t need to have it pitch dark to attack you.”
But this is how I think and Hubby knows it, so he watched me safely to my car before locking up and ambling off back to sleepyland, probably wondering why his flake-o-meter hadn’t picked up on my peculiarities before the wedding.
He was right, of course. There wasn't anything in the garage except me, my car, and my wild imagination. The next day he asked me if I wanted him to accompany me to the garage again, but I declined. I used my cell phone to guide me through the dark, and, once again, I made it to my car just fine.
Or maybe not just fine, because I still wonder if I don't read too much--too many mysteries, too many thrillers, too much horror, too much intrigue. Hmmm...
Hope your Halloween is happy and safe. If you're looking for a bit of scary erotic romance for this creepy season, please check out Seducing Gracie from Changeling Press. Then you'll understand...muhahahahaha!