Lure of the Praying Mantis

David Gaston

Description

Beware of the Praying Mantis woman who could coerce someone to kill for her. And be aware of the repercussions if something goes wrong.
The Praying Mantis is a woman who likes to dominate and control men. Most women would stop at that, but some want to see how far their domination could take them. Could that include murder perhaps? Certain cases that have appeared in the press would suggest that murder is definitely an option for the Praying Mantis.

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• Thrillers
• Batalla de Balaclava
• Computadora
• Computer
• Deception
• Ordinateur
• Mystery
• Murder
• Balaclava
• Crime
• Revenge
• Novel
• Blackburn
• Fiction
• Domination

Informations

• Publié par: Balboa Press UK
• Date de parution: 27 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781982286514
• Langue: English

Extrait

LURE OF THE PRAYING MANTIS
 
 
 
 
DAVID GASTON
 
 
 

 
 
Copyright © 2022 David Gaston.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
 
Balboa Press
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
ISBN: 978-1-9822-8650-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-9822-8651-4 (e)
 
Balboa Press rev. date: 10/26/2022
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine

ONE

She was born plain old Ann, without the ‘e’, Walker. But she wanted something classier, so she added the ‘e’, then a hyphen, and then her best friend’s name, ‘Marie’. And Walker had to go too, especially after her mother had told her the origins of the name. One of her ancestors had once ‘walked the wool’ in a fulling mill, spending hours treading raw wool into a smelly solution contained in a large vat. That ‘smelly solution’ had been raw urine. No , she had thought with contempt, that name has got to go. How about winter ? she had thought. That sounds classy, especially if the ‘i’ is turned into a ‘y’, and how about putting ‘De’ before it? Yes, she had thought with deep satisfaction , I like that . So, when she moved into a house of her own in an area of Bellingham Borough where nobody knew her; the tall, curvaceous, self-confident, and manipulative woman changed her name from Ann Walker to Anne-Marie De Wynter.
Men were her target, and her sexuality was her weapon. Anne-Marie was attractive, although she could never be considered an entrant for a beauty contest. Her blond hair was shoulder length and curly, her face was round with blue eyes and an engaging smile. Anne-Marie ate frugally so that her ample charms remained deliciously ample rather than overpoweringly ample. She knew what men liked and so she dressed and behaved as though she would offer it all, but without giving anything. Life is all about give and take; well men would give, and Anne-Marie would take.
Men found her sexually attractive, and Anne-Marie knew it. This was the source of her power, and she used it mercilessly. She was in command, always in command. She would psychologically castrate them by degrading their names into an effeminate, almost childlike, form. So, Michael became Mickey, Timothy became Timmy, and William became Willy. She dominated them like a mother figure, making them do things that they otherwise would not want to do.
It was a game. She had learnt it in school, but not from her teachers. When she lifted her skirt behind the bike shed, she would study the excited looks on the boys’ faces as eagerly as they studied her exposed knickers.’ Knowledge is power’, a teacher had once told her. How right he was; knowing the boys’ interest in her sexuality was power, and it could be used to her advantage. But it was not just the financial gains that could be made, and she had made a few, it was the control that she enjoyed. Anne-Marie liked, even loved, the power of domination and control that she could exert over members of the other sex.
But as she stood in the modestly furnished lounge of Jack’s flat, her face was as white and cold as snow. Jack Manning was nearly fifty years of age, twice Anne-Marie’s age, a friend, a very good friend. He had helped her to get a personal assistant’s position with a local managing director of a small firm, even to the point of giving her a reference. And she had rewarded him by including him in one of her games, although he had participated unwittingly. And now he lay on the pale green carpet, blood oozing from a smashed skull. The weapon, a heavily blood-stained black handled hammer, lay by his side.
This was something new; something that she had never witnessed before. She was shocked, naturally, Anne-Marie had never seen a dead body before, and even though she had prepared herself mentally for this moment, the sight of Jack’s life blood forming a bright red halo around his head was still a jolt to her system. Fortunately, she had worn her brown gloves because of the cold autumn breeze that was blowing outside; they would prevent any of her fingerprints from being left in the flat.
Anne-Marie stood in a state of numbness at the sight of Jack’s body, but she did not cry. She never cried; unless it was in a worthy cause; her own.
She allowed her eyes to wander around the room. She saw how neat and tidy it was; A place for everything and everything in its place; that was one of Jack’s favourite sayings. His numerous chess books were filed alphabetically both in the bookcase and on the shelf under the glass-topped coffee table. A computer, its screen displaying a blue and white chequered chess board, was on a bridge table in the corner, with the attached printer sitting on the floor underneath. But her eyes settled on Jack’s pride and joy; the coin collection resting proudly in its blue velvet case lying within the pine wood display cabinet. The lid was up allowing the viewer to see the gold and silver coins reclining in their regimented rows as though on parade. Slowly, and without a second glance at Jack’s prostrate form, Anne-Marie crossed the room to the cabinet, withdrew the case, closed the lid, and hid it from sight beneath the brown calf length leather coat that she wore. She was about to turn to depart when the corners of her mouth creased up in a slight smile. Her gloved hand reached into the cabinet and withdrew a small, inscribed silver charm bracelet with several charms, including a rabbit’s foot and a gold heart, hanging from it. She pushed the bracelet into her coat pocket. Anne-Marie touched nothing else within the cabinet.
The sunlight was disappearing into the cold evening air as Anne-Marie emerged into the busy street below Jack’s flat. She glanced at the window of the hardware shop; the owner of which was Jack’s landlord who rented him the upstairs flat above his place of business. The shop was in darkness with the windows shuttered and padlocked. So were some of the other shops as well, except for the mini-market and the chemist.
Anne-Marie mixed with the people hurrying home; hoping no one would recognize her. But why should they? She very rarely came to this part of town, and when she did it was usually at night to visit Jack. And the throng of people that she was in would be more interested in getting home to their evening meals than in her.
Benny’s car, an old light blue Nissan with a dented passenger door, was in the library car park. Anne-Marie, without looking around her, as she did not want to attract attention to herself, unlocked the driver’s door and slid calmly behind the steering wheel. The car’s engine purred into life; hardly raising a decibel as she engaged first gear and drove calmly off the car park and into the bustling traffic moving towards the suburbs.
Jimmy was on holiday in Tunisia, but Anne-Marie knew where he hid the key to his allotment shed. She walked through the dark and deserted communal allotments towards Jimmy’s shed, a well maintained and pleasantly decorated blue and white wooden structure. Keeping her gloves on, she withdrew the key from its hiding place beneath the plant pot on the windowsill and opened the shed door. A comfortable armchair, heating stove, and a small wooden cabinet containing Jimmy’s tea making utensils where on one side of the one roomed building, whilst plant pots and gardening tools littered the other side both on the floor and on soil-stained wooden shelves. Anne-Marie placed the velvet case on the floor in the corner amongst some tools and covered it with a dirty mud splattered blanket. She then left via the same route that she had used to arrive.
As she sat once again in the light blue Nissan, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the charm bracelet. Anne-Marie smi