Page 1 of Autumn Ritual

Chapter 1 – Sara

Oh, look, a random bale of hay in the middle of a cornfield.

That wasn’t at all suspicious. I began to count down from three in my head. The sound of our shoes crunched over the dirt path. Corn rustled beside us. A blast of wind shot through the opening, swirling the crisp scent of earth and decay past us.

Right on cue, ghouls cawed.

To the left, Maria and a few of my other friends shrieked.

I rolled my eyes.

Of all the scenes, this one was particularly bad. It was like they weren’t even trying this year. Most of the props were recycled and had been old a decade ago, when I was still a freaking teen. But if you calculated the number of visitors to the attraction tonight, increasing the curve on a bell chart as autumn progressed, factoring in nights for bad weather, the profit would still be solid. I had to remind myself that the goal of the haunted corn maze wasn’t to make the town rich. Like every festival or event San Pietro Cove put on, the haunted corn maze laundered money for the mob.

Still, the B-rated effort made me cringe.

At the next opening in the maze, zombies crawled on the ground, reaching for our legs with partially detached limbs.

I crossed my arms over my chest and kept walking with the large friend group that dragged me out tonight. I’d only come back to town this morning, and already the townies roped me into their shenanigans. I’d tried to stay at home. I hadn’t been faking the exhaustion. I would rather be plotting my next book or watching reality TV with my mother. But no…I’d been forced to come out and socialize.

To make matters worse, I’d been told costumes were mandatory. So here I was, wandering through clacking stalks of corn, dressed as Wednesday Adams. Since I already had glasses, it was as simple as wearing one of my black dresses and pulling my hair into two braids. At least I wasn’t freezing my tits off like Barbie or the topless Malibu Ken. Maria was going to catch frostbite in that pink mini dress, while Carlo’s spray tan was two shades too orange.

But my friends ate this event up! I wasn’t sure which was worse: the locals who were loyal or the people in charge who thought this was actually good. The Ravello Family sponsored this farce. Surely, they could spare a few bucks to update the theatrics? Their committee in charge of public festivals could use a plan to make this event better.

I should join the committee.

Or at least give them a scathing review.

“No, Sara, you’re going to ignore your surroundings, and by the time we leave this accursed maze, you’ll have a solid plan to finish your novel,” I ordered myself.

“What did you say?” Camilla turned her head and asked.

I gave her a flat smile. “I’m terrified. Oooh, ahh!”

She rolled her eyes. “The day something scares you will be apocalyptic.”

Giosuè laughed.

Before my friends could tease me again, wraiths floated through the corn stalks. Their wispy black outfits caught on cobs and stalks, putting fresh holes in the material. I rushed away with the group, tuning out the cheesy horror tunes and thinking of tomorrow.

When I could begin a new chapter in my life in the safety of my hometown.

No one was going to hurt me here. The big city drama was behind me. The drive from the Big Apple closed the bad chapters of my life. Returning to the Cove was a delicious beginning, full of possibilities. Here, I could focus on my writing without needing to look over my shoulder.

Having a deranged ex-boyfriend, who wanted to marry me so that he could have his inheritance was bad enough. Add to that the fact that he’d been cheating on me, then harassed me to the point where I would have gotten a restraining order made it impossible to stay. And because the judges were corrupt and his family was powerful, even if I’d gotten a restraining order, it wouldn’t have kept him away.

But the people of the Cove would protect me. No one messed with the Ravello Famiglia.

So now, I could write in peace.

Except…you’ll have an audience.

A sigh whispered from my lips. While crashing at my parents’ place was nice, I really needed my own space. Preferably a spot where my mother wouldn’t be knocking on the door every couple of hours and then chatting with me with no concept of time. I needed to minimize interruptions. If I wrote five thousand words per day, taking two days off per week, I would hit my word count in a month. But that was just draft one of the stories swimming in my head.

“No Wi-Fi,” I muttered.

I couldn’t afford distractions. While an indie author needed to market their own books, I couldn’t promote something on social media if I hadn’t actually written it. Other authors did, but my scattered thoughts made things change too often in a story to get a solid grasp, especially in the early drafts. Going off the grid and unplugging was the best course of action.

The lake house….