Page 1 of Demon Shock

CHAPTER ONE

AVA

I sat backand grinned at my computer screen. My reflection didn’t look the best. The circles under my blue eyes were noticeably dark, and I was overdue for a shower. But at least I couldn’t see how greasy my long brown hair was with it thrown up in a sloppy swish.

Finally, after months of non-stop coding, the system conversion was complete and bug-free. I couldn’t wait to see Steve’s face. He’d said it wasn’t possible within six months. For him, probably not. For me? I wasn’t married, didn’t have kids, and had no problem hiding away from the world to work non-stop for the fifty thousand dollar bonus the group had promised.

My laughter rang out in the silent cabin, startling my furry companions curled up on a nearby pillow.

“It’s done. Finally. Aren’t you excited?”

Pete and Repeat meowed at me when I stood with a stretch.

“This calls for a celebration, boys. What do you say? Should I head into town for some steak and lobster?”

Pete stood and strolled toward the kitchen. Repeat was right on his heels, and I chuckled.

“Ramen and tuna it is. I’m going to need to have my blood work done after this. It’s probably fifty percent broth by now.”

They made their small “mrr” sounds as if agreeing as I joined them and opened a can of tuna from the stack on the counter.

When I’d accepted the project, I’d prepped my grandparents' single-room cabin, stocking the root cellar’s shelves below the cabin with canned and dried goods–stuff that was easy to prepare because I hadn’t wanted to spend my time cooking. So obviously, tuna, spam, and ramen were in surplus, but other essentials were in surplus, too. And I had the propane tank out back topped off last October with enough fuel to run the backup generator when the sun was too weak for the solar panels to keep the lights and my computer on.

Other than the occasional outgoing email to update my manager on the project’s status, I’d kept myself completely disconnected from the outside world, only leaving the cabin to use the bathroom.

The solitude hadn’t only been productive; it’d been rejuvenating. Maybe I could use the success of this project as proof of the benefits of working remotely in the future. No office drama. No small city apartment. I could move back home and help my mom and sister with Pops. The chances of my boss agreeing were low, but it was still worth a try.

“Think of all the pets you’d get if I worked from home,” I said to Pete and Repeat.

After dividing the tuna between their bowls, I put on my boots and coat and went outside. The layer of snow covering the ground wasn’t as deep as it had been a few days ago, and the crisp air hinted at spring.

As I walked around to the back of the cabin, I tipped my head back and inhaled deeply. A long, thin line of smoke rose from the chimney, and I smiled to myself.

I loved the peace of being out here and wasn’t looking forward to returning to the office after this. However, my boss promised me a long vacation to compensate for the overtime.So, once I trained everyone on the updates, I planned on leaving Pete and Repeat with Mom and Kylie and booking a two-week stay at an all-inclusive resort staffed by hot guys who enjoyed serving margaritas.

Would I even know what to do with a hot guy anymore? I grinned to myself and tried to remember how long it had been since my last date. A year? A year and a half? Too many failed attempts had left me averse to trying again. But the idea of someone to snuggle with late into the morning always pulled me back in eventually. Maybe a vacation fling would keep me safely out of the dating pool for a little longer.

Mentally picturing myself in a bikini, I opened the door to the external bathroom and stepped inside. I loved this oddity about the old cabin. It gave me a reason to go outside every day, even when I was working.

Situated next to the chimney, it was always toasty warm in winter. If it got too warm, I could prop the exterior door open and use the screen door, which was a must in the warmer months to keep the bugs out.

The tankless water heater worked like a charm, too. While showering, I tackled the reforestation occurring on my legs after a month of neglect and killed the razor. It was a worthy sacrifice, though. Without it, people in town would have thought Big Foot was real when they saw me get out of my truck—not that I was thinking about showing my legs until the temps reached above freezing.

I grabbed some clean clothes off the shelf and dressed, feeling like a newer, freer—and richer—person.

Back inside the cabin, I let my hair dry by the fire and contemplated calling or emailing my boss. If I called, I’d be opening Pandora’s box. Everyone in the office would know I turned my phone back on and would inundate me with calls. IfI emailed, I could let my boss know it was done and when I planned to return, then take a few well-earned days to myself.

Email it was.

I sat at my desk and wrote the most humble chest-beating email I could manage, addressed to my boss and cc’d to Steve. With an unhealthy amount of vindication, I hit send.

Pete jumped up on my desk and went to sit on my keyboard. I quickly scooped him up to snuggle him.

“What do you think? Should we stay another week and then head back?”

He purred as I scratched between his ears. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”

My computer pinged with a new email, an unfamiliar sound since I usually turned off my internet connection after I hit send.

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