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This is the home of my paranormal/suspense short story, Tulpa (see link to the left). Here's a little summary to tempt you onward:

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UConn student Katrina Talbot is left scrambling to avoid eviction when her boyfriend Josh abruptly moves out of their apartment just before Christmas. Desperate to afford rent until she can find another roommate, Kat takes a baby-sitting job in Dunbarton, New Hampshire for winter break. Located deep in the woods and isolated from civilization by all but a mile-long, unpaved driveway, her employer's house provides the perfect environment to brood over a broken heart.

But Kat gets more than she bargained for when she starts seeing odd footprints in the snow and menacing creatures lurking amid the trees. The unexpected arrival of the children's mysterious -- and charming -- older brother Peter further complicates matters…

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For those of you who need a little more motivation to click on the link to the left, here's an excerpt:

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(Monday, December 31, 8:51 a.m.) 

While Peter helped himself to a cinnamon bun, Kat got started on the dirty dishes.  As she scrubbed at the stubborn egg residue, she glumly wondered what she would do for money, now that Peter’s return had made her presence redundant.

“So, why aren’t you in Myrtle Beach with Andrea?” Peter asked, his voice muffled by a chunk of cinnamon bun.

“Can’t afford it,” said Kat matter-of-factly.

Peter chuckled.  “Yeah, I was supposed to go away for break, but I’m broke, too.  You know the drill… poor college student – except for the beer, of course.  Hell, at UConn, we always have money for beer.”

Kat remembered how many times Josh had barged in at four in the morning, fresh from a party at Carriage House or Celeron, drunk off his ass and raucously singing maudlin ballads of his own composing – right into her ear.

“I don’t drink,” she said tersely.

“You don’t drink!” he exclaimed.  “What school do you go to?”

Kat gritted her teeth.  “UConn.”

“Well, now I’ve heard everything,” he said, his voice gently teasing.  “A UConn student who doesn’t drink!  Never thought I’d see one of those.”

"I don’t like basketball, either,” she snapped.  “Or popped collars, or miniskirts paired with Ugg boots.  Is there any other UConn stereotype I’m missing?”

She hoped Peter would be put off by her unfriendly tone, but he just gave an amused laugh.  “Where do you live, Kat?”

Her hands clenched the pan she was scrubbing.  “In an apartment off campus.  Which I’m in danger of losing since my roommate moved out last week.”

“That sucks.  But you’ll find another one soon, I’m sure,” he said nonchalantly.  “No big deal.”

“No big deal?”  Kat hurled the sponge into the sink, sending soap suds flying.  She whirled around to face Peter, who stopped smiling when he saw her snarling expression.  “He wasn’t just my roommate, okay?  He was my boyfriend.  Well, ex-boyfriend now.  And he’s been stiffing me on his full share of the rent for the last few months, so one more late payment and I’ll be evicted.  I have nowhere else to go.  If I move in with my parents – who went from Enfield to freaking North Carolina when Bank of America transferred my dad’s job to Charlotte last year – my tuition rate will skyrocket.  This babysitting job was my one chance to make money over break – but now it’s been cut short, because you had to come back early!”

Peter stared at her with wide, shell-shocked eyes.

Her anger expelled, Kat felt the heat in her veins fade into cold embarrassment.  I’ve just gone off on a guy I’ve known for less than an hour – he must think I’m nuts!

“I – I’m sorry,” she stammered.  “It’s been a tough December.”

“I see that,” Peter observed.

A few more minutes of awkward silence passed.

“Um, I’ll just finish the dishes now,” she said meekly.

“You do that,” he replied, a faint smile playing around the edge of his lips as he grabbed the last cinnamon bun.

Her cheeks burning, Kat stared out of the window over the sink as she finished up the dishes.  The landscape was blanketed by huge mounds of snow, and Kat saw there wasn’t much of a yard beyond the narrow back porch – though a road covered with snowmobile tracks ran from the back garage into the dense woods.

About 120 feet away, where the road started to curve out of sight into the woods, stood a tall, black gorilla.

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You can find the rest of the story here. Happy reading!

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Tulpa Copyright © 2008 by Sarah Morin. All rights reserved. No part of this work shall be used or reproduced by any means without prior written permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.