The Monster in the Closet









When Phoebe leaves a fairytale themed Halloween party early, this beauty finds herself face to face with a beast lurking in her closet. She can’t see it, but it’s there. It claims to be a king to a race of creatures that should only exist in stories, and its first order of business is to take her back to its kingdom to mate.

Author’s note: Best when paired with Volume 1, “The Monster Under the Bed”



Phoebe searched for a weapon, and grabbed a vase of red silk roses. It wouldn’t do much, being made of plastic and fiber, but flinging it at an attacker would give her a head start at running away. “I’m warning you…”

Tiptoeing toward the closet, she didn’t know what to expect. The door opened inward so she pushed it with her toe until the knob hit the wall. No one was inside unless they were hiding behind her clothes. She went inside, kicking behind her dresses. The door slammed shut behind her. Screaming, she dropped the vase, which only thudded on the carpet at her feet. Phoebe reached up, fumbling for the cord to the light and yanked it when her hand connected with the string. Nothing happened. She yanked again to the same result.

“Looking for this?” The man in the closet grabbed one of her hands in his and placed something into her palm. The lightbulb. He’d unscrewed the lightbulb and waited to ambush her when she came inside. But where had he hidden?

Phoebe didn’t ask that question. “Wh-what do you want?”

He circled around her like a predatory cat about to pounce on its prey. She couldn’t see anything, but his body heat singed her with awareness of him. His lack of response was more terrifying than knowing what to expect. Finally, he said, “Are you still wanting to sleep with a stranger to punish that fool who didn’t deserve you.” He ran a knuckle over her cheekbone and she flinched. “The one who made you cry… If you’d like, I could send one of my best to do him great harm. Would his parts as a trophy please you? That can be arranged.”

What was he—did he just offer to castrate Adam? “As much as he might deserve it, I do not condone violence.” She straightened her backbone. She could sense he was taller than her five-foot-three.

“A pity,” he said from behind her. Suddenly she was jerked back against a hard, muscled chest. “About what you said before…”

He thought he could hide in her closet and hold her to something she’d said in annoyance? Ha! “Listen, mister, I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but I will not be doing anything with you. The cops are still outside, so all I have to do is yell.”

© 2017 Rebekah Lewis.