Did you notice my daughter’s picture? Yep, she is here.
Hi, I am the daughter of the author. What am I doing here? I have a place here. In fact two places. What are they? This is a mystery series. You either have to figure it out or wait until it is reveled.
Blindfolded, in the dark, L C was unaware how the person in the room with her was dressed. Only that they flitted about the room almost invisibly and almost soundlessly. She was not sure if the breathy voice was meant to be sexual or if it were from some ailment, such as throat cancer.
She did know she was in danger from this person, but the danger did not seem immediate.
When the person started asking her questions she thought of Scheherazade, and how she kept the shah captivated for a thousand and one nights. So she complied, telling her story in the most interesting fashion she could think of and in the most drawn out version she could think of. Including speaking slowly and enunciating clearly.
Sometimes it was almost tempting to think she was talking to herself, keeping herself company in the dark, until a breathy voice would ask a question. She was reminded of the third man syndrome. How when a person is alone and in danger their senses become confused and they become convinced there is another person with them. As she talked into the dark silence she wondered if she had invented some kind of twisted, invisible friend.
At times she would be talking to a dark shadow, thinking that was where her capture was, when the voice would suddenly come from somewhere else. It was upsetting and L C realized her capture was playing with her. She was the mouse, the talking mouse, and the person in the darkness was a sadistic cat.
The person in the ninja suit listened. It was a way to pass the time, to toy with the woman secured to the chair, and learn things hitherto unknown, some not even guessed at.
They resisted the temptation to chuckle.
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The Homewrecker Series (tm) 
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