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would use in my own bathroom neatly lined up across the counter. All the bottles were full and unused. The toothbrush was the same brand I had at home and the same color too; white with a blue stripe down the handle.
    Looking at that straight little line of beauty products made a kernel of fear blossom in my belly. It looked like someone was planning an extended stay for me here. I held a hand to my mouth to try and stifle a moan of fear from escaping but I could feel a rising hysteria exploding from my mouth with a strangled yelp.
    I ran back into the bedroom and tried the door. It was locked, of course. I pounded on the wood until my hands hurt and screamed myself hoarse. A moment later I realized what a WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 17

    fool I was being and backed away from the door with a horrified expression.
    I was making such a racket, someone was bound to come and investigate and I really didn't want to be here when that happened. I should try to be quiet, maybe I could sneak out.
    Not content to wait and see who might be on their way to open the locked door, I ran to the window, pushed the drapes aside and fiddled with the lock, moaning when, in my agitation, I had trouble unlocking it. I forced myself to calm down and with as steady a hand as I could manage, I unlocked it and pushed up to open the window.
    I stuck my head out and saw that I was too high off the ground to try and make my escape that way. The house spread out into a wing on the left in a graceful L shape, I was on the third floor on the right side. I would guess that I was about thirty feet from the ground, too high to jump. Not to mention the ground below was covered in cobblestones, so it would be a hard landing. I groaned in disappointment.
    If I had a rope, I might be able to climb down. Who was I kidding? Climb down a rope?
    I wasn't the athletic type, in fact, I think I might be the only person in history to get injured playing croquet.
    I looked around the room wracking my brain for an escape route. What would
    McGuyver do? I thought hysterically about the dental floss and the loofah in the bathroom.
    Undoubtedly, he would rig up a pulley-hang glider contraption and slide out of here.
    Sadly, there was no convenient tree next to the house that would help me to escape, I wouldn't have been able to climb it anyway. I had a terrible fear of heights combined with vertigo made any escape out the window impossible. But I had to try something.
    I heard footsteps in the hall and felt at a loss. Should I hide? Try to jump out of the window and hope that I could make the fall without breaking a leg? Then what? I tried to picture myself limping away through the night to find a phone. I looked down at my bare feet and grimaced. I didn't even have shoes!
    The footsteps halted outside of the door and I heard a jangle of keys and then the scrape of a key being inserted in the lock. I backed away, my heart racing in terror. I frantically looked around the room for something I could use as a weapon. A large, crystal vase full of flowers was on the nightstand, but the bed was between me and my grabbing it and it was too late to get it now.
    The door opened and in walked my blond dream man. His eyes crinkled up with
    satisfaction when he spotted me.
    “Anna, it's good to see you're awake. I wasn't able to introduce myself yesterday, I'm Gage Hawthorne. Sorry about the locked door, it was for your protection, in case you were disoriented when you woke up.” He gave me an apologetic smile as he said this. He was all ease and bonhomie too, as if I was a cherished houseguest.
    Why would he tell me his name? Maybe it wasn't his real name. Gage sounded like a nickname to me. His real name was probably something boring like David or Robert.
    When I didn't respond he stuck his hand out, clearly expecting me to shake it. When I made no move towards him his hand dropped to his side and he gave me a gentle smile.
    “Where am I? Why am I here? What have you done