Lightning streaked the sky as sheets of rain soaked the earth. Rebecca ran up the path on Glastonbury Tor, dragging Thomas along behind her. A few rain-soaked moments later and they reached the shelter of Saint Michael’s Tower. Rebecca leaned against the wall and pulled Thomas into a passionate kiss.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here,” Thomas said, coming up for air. He looked out at the hillside to make sure the park police hadn’t spotted them and started up the hill in pursuit.

“That’s what makes it so exciting,” Rebecca replied. She pushed him against the wall and started kissing his neck.

Thomas gently pushed her off him. “It’s not just the park police I’m worried about. This place is…”

Rebecca cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“You’re going to make fun of me.”

She raised her right hand. “I, Rebecca Mordain, do solemnly swear, under penalty of perjury, not to make fun of you for the statement you are about to make, so help me God.”

“Well, I don’t think we should be here because it’s… haunted.”

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