Read Advent Calendar (An Erotic / Erotica Paranormal Tale) for Free Online

come to her, the
flickering light of the candle warmly illuminating her breasts.
    I hesitated, not liking how gray things were
growing behind me. But Betsy was calling, compelling me onward. I
could almost stand now. The further away from the door I got, the
taller the ceiling seemed to get. Perspective, I realized. Betsy
loomed larger now. I judged that I was about halfway to her.
    "Jay?" I could barely hear
Evie. My room looked about the size of a television screen from
where I was standing, like I was watching a movie of my room. My
jaw dropped when my bedroom door opened, and Betsy was standing
there. What the fuck?
    She came toward the
calendar, the door I'd crawled through, grabbing my phone off the
dresser as she went, and bent down and looked inside. It was cold
in here, and suddenly it felt colder. Now I could hear Evie more
clearly. "Jay, please! Listen to me! Whatever you do, don't go through the
door! "
    It was as if it were all happening in some
weird slow motion time-lapse. Betsy was talking on the phone, now,
as I called to her, and I saw her smile. She waved at me, and it
was just my knee-jerk reaction to wave back, totally confused. I
was listening to her talk but my brain wasn't really registering
what she was saying.
    "Evie? It's Betz. It's all over... Oh, don't
cry, sweetie, this is what you wanted, remember?... I know, but I
told you about love spells and guys like him… I warned you, Evie!
Guys like Jay just don’t know how to treat a woman, and he deserves
everything he’s getting after what he did to you… Yes, but at least
you and I can start fresh. A new beginning... I'll be over in 10
minutes... Shh, it's all gonna be ok... Love you."
    This can't be
happening. My nut sack shriveled and my
balls felt like they were two tight little stones as I scrambled
toward the only light left—the light coming in from my suddenly
far-off but achingly familiar bedroom.
    Then, I had an abrupt, chilling thought.
    If that's Betsy... then who...?
    I turned around in the darkness, and heard
the door slam behind me.
     
    The End
     
     

ABOUT SELENA KITT
    Like any feline, Selena Kitt loves the things that
make her purr-and wants nothing more than to make others purr right
along with her! Pleasure is her middle name, whether it's a short
cat nap stretched out in the sun or a long kitty bath. She makes it
a priority to explore all the delightful distractions she can find,
and follow her vivid and often racy imagination wherever it wants
to lead her.

    Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to
the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and
her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take
readers to new, thought-provoking depths.

    When she's not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena
runs an innovative publishing company (www. excessica. com) and in
her spare time, she worships her devoted husband, corrals four kids
and a dozen chickens, all while growing an organic garden. She also
loves bellydancing and photography.

    Her book EcoErotica, was a 2009 Eppie Finalist, her
book, The Real Mother Goose, was a 2010 Eppie Finalist, her book
Heidi and the Kaiser was a 2011 Epic Award Finalist as well as her
story, Second Chance. Her story, Connections, was one of the
runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic
short story of "exceptional literary quality," out of over 1,000
nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries
are read "blind" (without author's name available.)

    She can be reached on her website at www.selenakitt.com
     
    If you liked ADVENT
CALENDAR , try:

SHIVERS H
    By Selena Kitt
     
    Eight darkly erotic and horrifically
delicious stories guaranteed to give you shivers, in more ways than
one! Stories include: The Velvet Choker, Pumpkin Eater, The Ride,
Mercy, Advent Calendar, Silent Night, The Laundry Chute and The
Gingerbread Man.
     
    Warning: This title contains
graphic language, sex and erotic horror.
     
    Excerpt From