As his fingers fumbled with the key to his three-floor Brownstone, David Fenwick was aware of a car pulling up along the sidewalk. He looked over his ...houlder and saw a jet-black sedan sitting there with its engine running. The rear window rolled down smoothly. ‘David,’ The woman’s voice called out to him. ‘Do you have a minute?’ Fenwick recognised the dark haired woman sitting in the back of the car instantly. Her name was Monica Braccia and he knew she was trouble. He turned back to his door. Dark, cramped, and overflowing with books, nick-knacks, and decoration. It was the sort of place the man thought that drew in hippies and goths and others outside of the norm. Why was he here again?"The Demon Plug", the woman waved her hands sarcastically. The young man looked down at the dark leather book cover to see the terrible title. Ah yes, he'd picked up the book to see what it could possibly be about. "...they think it's a myth. But it's totally real." The young man looked skeptical.. More

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