Page 4 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

She’s not quite perfect, but the next one will be. I have to make it all obvious. Details are everything.

I rest her hand across her abdomen and place the flower in her other open hand.

Taking a step back, I observe my handiwork.

Her dark brown hair looks beautifully windblown.

The locks rest across the mossy ground in an artful way.

I’ve always liked this part. It’s when I know the piece is truly finished.

It’s an obsession I’ve never been able to shake.

I tried to redirect the urges, but it never stuck.

I’ve accepted who am now.

Popping a peppermint in my mouth, I circle around the body once more, going through the checklist in my mind, ensuring all the details are in place.

I leave the watery site next to Black Lake and wipe off my boots carefully.

I’ve never been caught, and never will be, at least not until I’m ready. It helps to live in plain sight.

Monsters don’t just live under the bed.