Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
And just like that, the night takes on an even brighter glow. It’s amazing how sometimes, without warning, someone steps into your life and shakes it up like the glitter in a snow globe. As the party continues to whirl around us, all I can think is that Midnight Falls might just be the best decision I’ve ever made—right after opening Trick or Treat.
Chapter 2
Kat
I stand next to the bar, staring into his dark eyes while wondering if I’m dreaming. The moment we stepped into Trick or Treat, the stunning interior took my breath away. The vintage stained-glass windows that line all the walls depict scenes of autumn landscapes and whimsical Halloween motifs, casting vibrant hues across the room when the disco lights shine across them. Each pane tells its own story, a fusion of artistry and the festive spirit of this unique town.
Dominating the far wall of the bar is an impressive stained-glass mural, arching over a heavy, dark antique bar. The mural is an intricate tableau of Halloween imagery: a crescent moon casting a soft glow over a haunted village, bats in flight swirling around towering pumpkins, and ethereal specters dancing in a twilight forest. The rich colors of the glass refract through the room, creating a kaleidoscope of shadows and light that brings the mystical scene to life.
Around the room, gothic-style fireplaces are strategically placed, their stone mantels intricately carved with gargoyles and twisted vines. The fireplaces emit a warm, inviting glow that complements the flickering candlelight scattered throughout the space. Fireplace embers crackle gently, adding to the ambiance with their soft, comforting sound.
Above, elaborate chandeliers dangle gracefully over all three levels of the bar, each a masterpiece of wrought iron and crystal. The chandeliers resemble upside-down black roses, their glossy petals cradling softly glowing lights that cast intricate patterns onto the ceiling and floors. As they sway ever so slightly, the crystals catch the light, creating a dazzling effect that mimics the twinkle of stars in an inky night sky.
The three levels of the bar are connected by sweeping, wrought iron staircases, each one adorned with carved pumpkins and trailing ivy. The upper levels offer a bird’s eye view of the bustling crowd below, each patron bathed in the enchanting, ghostly charm of Trick or Treat. It's a place where the whimsical and the gothic meet, effortlessly blending the mystery of Halloween with the elegance of a vintage escape.
But the true intrigue lies in the whispers about what exists beneath the main floor. Rumor has it they created a unique speakeasy in the abandoned bomb shelter beneath the bar.
Scared Shotless is an exclusive, invitation-only haunt that only the lucky few ever get to experience. Accessed by a secret door behind a seemingly ordinary bookcase, the speakeasy boasts a Prohibition-era vibe, complete with vintage furnishings and a menu of classic, handcrafted cocktails.
Standing here at the bar while this incredibly handsome bartender tells me to call him Tony seems surreal. His smile should come with its own warning label, and now I’m trying really hard not to swoon like some ridiculous damsel from one of those cheesy romance novels.
I pull myself together and return his introduction with a smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kat,” I manage to say, holding the cocktail, which looks like it walked right out of a Halloween dream. It’s some kind of bright green concoction with a tiny gummy worm crawling over the rim.
He leans against the bar, cape draping over his broad shoulders like he’s Count Dracula himself—but way better looking. “Kat?” Those dark eyes of his sparkle with mischief as he glances down at my tight Catwoman costume with a raised eyebrow. I’m pretty sure my brain short-circuits for a moment. I’ve never been good at handling handsome men who look like they stepped out of a gothic romance novel, and this hunky vampire definitely fits the bill with his raven-black hair slicked back perfectly and his ridiculously authentic-looking pearly white fangs.
Cass, my best friend, finally breaks free of the flirting ghost at the table by the front door and makes her way over. I can feel her stop next to me, but Tony demands my full attention. It’s hard to look away when he’s standing there like a real-life, very hot, Prince of Darkness.
“My name is actually Katara, but everyone calls me Kat,” I explain as my friend looks back and forth between me and the hunky vampire bartender.
“Aren’t you glad you let me drag you here tonight?” Cass leans over to whisper in my ear. This town is like Halloween Central all year round, and the crowd is loving this new spooky haunt. People dressed in fantastic costumes are everywhere, from sexy witches to dapper devils, and the whole bar glows with an eerie yet magical ambiance.
I hip-check her to shush her as I stare into Tony’s dark eyes. “Your name suits you.” He leans his elbows on the bar, and I get a little whiff of his deep woodsy scent. My insides turn to mush, and I know I couldn’t move an inch if I tried.