"Sebastian Stein's success on the global scale is outstanding, that much is true. And yes, it is true that he is educated, well-read and that he has a developed, likable style. However, it's painfully obvious in all his books that he leeches inspiration solely from other people's work. There's no personal experience there and that is just evident. I mean, this person writes horror literature while it's so obvious that the scariest events in his life were pricking his thumb on a tack or seeing a spider in a bathtub... "
Sebastian frowned and turned off the radio which the conceited critic was yapping from. The truth in his words hurt him.
"So what if I didn't experience all of those things personally? Does a man have to meet a real live vampire to write about vampires?"
He stepped on the gas paddle of his beat-up pick-up truck to break his glumness with a dose of adrenaline, which made the car bounce on the snowy road. This piece of junk belonged more to some trash-art museum than on a road, but it was the only vehicle currently available.
"What does some dumb critic know?" It was true that he used true grisly events from around the globe as inspiration for his novels. However, he was the best at it.
This year was especially fruitful: he published six whole novels, and all six became bestsellers. Maybe it was because there were a lot of inspiring crimes this year, or maybe he just got good at writing. And now came the time to enjoy in the fruit of his labor. With a sharp turn of the wheel he stirred the car from the main route to a side dirt road that lead to his new home.
The forest swallowed the white pick-up with a maw of jagged shadows.
He was building the house for almost a year and now it was finally done and furnished. Not so long after the successful publishing of "Blade from the shadows", his fourth novel, he stumbled upon an offer of cheap lots in the far north of Canada. This place, Canto, was founded recently when oil was discovered in the vicinity. However, local authorities decided to turn it into an exclusive resort because of it's extraordinary natural beauty.
The lot he chose was more than perfect. Slanted bluff on which it was placed provided an amazing view of the frozen bay on the north and thick pine forest on the south. "Expectation rock" was what the natives called it. Local contractor advised him to pick one of the ready-made houses, but Sebastian didn't want to hear about it. Construction of this house cost him a fortune, but it was worth it: he got a first-class lodge, ideal for a writer of his stature. Because of the recent media attention, he was glad that the house was well away and shielded from all sorts of inquisitive peeks.
When they were digging for the foundations they found something interesting, the foreman said. A bunch of broken pottery. Sebastian jokingly asked if they unearthed a haunted Indian burial ground. He wasn't superstitious, but he was afraid that the archaeological institute could put a restraint on the construction works. However, all turned out great: it appeared that it wasn't an archaeological find, but some sort of a dump. Large part of the pottery was just a few years old.
He lost more time in the store than he planned. All of the workers from the oil drill had a day off, and all of them rushed into the one and only store in Canto to buy food, drinks and other necessities. While waiting in an all-too-long queue at the cash register, he heard that there's going to be a New Year's Eve party at the local bar, but that information didn't interest him much. When the cashier girl asked him if he would perhaps go, Sebastian just smiled and waved his head. He refused the offer from his colleges to spend a New Years Eve in Spain, so he certainly wasn't planing to go to a lousy celebration in the village tavern. No, this New Year's Eve he wanted to spend with his family in their new warm home.
Lynna and Jacob were thrilled by the house and waited impatiently for him to come from downtown with the groceries so they can begin with the party. Sebastian hoped that the baby will sleep trough the night – Jonas was too young to participate in the celebration.
