Hot Blog: MONSTERSOFCOCK MONSTERS OF COCK was roving the paths on my hundred acres of property, enjoying the cool North breeze, when I heard a smothered yelp. I paused, filtering the sounds of the woods ¡V the creak of branches, the shush of leaves, the rustling of squirrels and chipmunks ¡V until I heard the sound again, to my left. I followed the trail to the first clearing and there she was, bound to a clump of four young, sturdy maples.
I recognized her. She was Bree Donlan, one of the three young women who rented the Barnes farmhouse for the month of June. I had already encountered the young ladies several times: twice in the general store, once when I caught them trespassing on my property a week earlier, and the night before in the only bar in the nearest town. After the trespass I had been insistently clear, or so I thought, regarding my desire for privacy. They assured me they got turned around in the dense woods, and that it wouldn't happen again.
I didn't believe their story about being lost. When we met while shopping they told me they were college students; even worse, they were Lit majors. Though I¡¦ll refrain from dropping my name, let¡¦s note for the record that I have a modest national reputation as an author, along with a moderate local rep as a lech.
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