Authors: Mlyn Hurn
ColonialGhost
Colonial Ghost
Kerry Perry, school marm
extraordinaire, also writes erotica. At the Paranormal Convention, her hotel
reservation is lost and she ends up at a B&B, whose owner wears leather,
rides a motorcycle and has a ghost with issues. Kerry lectures by day, but her
nights are filled with hot sex. Is her lover the hunky owner—or the foggy
ghost?
Publisher’s Note:
Originally available in Ellora’s Cave anthology
Things That Go
Bump in the Night III
.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication
Colonial Ghost
ISBN 9781419925849
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Colonial Ghost Copyright 2003 Mlyn Hurn
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication 2003
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home
Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Colonial Ghost
Mlyn Hurn
Prologue
“Fuck.” Miznari Anderson whipped a thick blue penis out of
her backpack. “I forgot to buy batteries for my vibrator.”
Natalie Capella choked on the gulp of wine she’d just
swallowed. Merlot shot up her nose. Her throat burned and her eyes watered as
she tried to hold back her laughter.
“Put that thing away!” Kerry Perry’s face turned as red as
the checkered tablecloth. After a quick glance around the crowded Italian
restaurant, she added, “Hurry, before someone sees it.”
Natalie could only shake her head, her deep wine-red hair
spilling over her shoulders as she dabbed her nose with a cloth napkin. Every
time the three friends managed to get-together, Miz would find some way to
embarrass the hell out of Kerry. Earlier that morning, when Nat had flown to
Virginia from her home in New York City, she’d wondered what Miz was going to
come up with this time.
“Don’t you like it?” Miz’s brown eyes went wide, her face
the picture of innocence as she extended the vibrator across the table toward
Kerry. “See how realistic the rubber is? Feels like a cock. A good ten inches,
and it even glows in the dark.”
Kerry shrank away from the dildo, her hazel gaze narrowing
behind the prim wire frames of her glasses. In her decidedly schoolteacher
voice, she commanded, “Put that in your backpack,
now.
”
“I’ve read your erotic romances, Ker.” Miz drew back,
encircled the blue cock with her fingers and moved her hand up and down the
penis from base to head. “You may dress like Miss Marple. Hell, you may even
act like Miss Manners. But on the inside, sweetie, you’re
Debbie Does Dallas
.”
She put the cock to her lips and swirled her tongue over the head. Miz never
wore a bra and her nipples were obviously hard, poking through the thin
material of her blouse.
“Miz Anderson,” Kerry hissed the ‘s’ like a snake on
steroids. “Put that damn thing away before I shove it up your—your—”
“Ass?” With a grin, Miz tucked the vibrator into her pack.
“Now there’s a thought.”
Pursing her lips, Kerry straightened the jacket of her brown
herringbone suit. “You’re such a shit.”
“Did our Miss Perry just say
shit
?” Miz turned her
mischievous brown gaze on Natalie. “Who’d’ve thunk it?”
“You
are
a shit.” Natalie laughed and pushed away her
half-eaten plate of manicotti. “But that’s why we love you,” she added as the
waiter left the dinner bill and cleared the plates.
Kerry dug in her purse and pulled out her wallet. “Humph.”
Smells of garlic bread and lasagna permeated the restaurant,
along with the hum of voices, clinking of plates and Italian music in the
background. Natalie absently rubbed the star tattoo that surrounded her
bellybutton and the gold piercing. The tattoo she’d gotten after losing a dare
to Miz in college, the piercing just because she’d felt like it. The tattoo was
a unique star pattern that matched the birthmark behind her left earlobe.
Natalie shifted in her seat, her jean skirt feeling a bit
snug and her thong underwear riding up her butt. It was Halloween night, and
the three former college roommates had managed to squeeze in time for dinner
before the “Out of this World” fantasy and sci-fi convention they were all
attending that evening—the stupid convention Miz had coerced Natalie into
patronizing. Miz was a cover artist and costume designer, actively involved
with the convention. She insisted, on threat of public dildo use, that Nat
participate in one of the exhibits Miz’s friend was running.
“So, Nat.” Miz flipped her short dark hair out of her eyes.
“Looking forward to tonight’s little experiment?”
It was all Natalie could do to hold back a groan. “I don’t
know how I let you talk me into these things.”
“It’ll be a kick-ass night.” Miz grabbed the bottle of
merlot and drained what little was left into her own glass. “From what Rod told
me, this virtual reality machine is so realistic you’ll feel like you’re
actually in a fantasy world. Like being in a fairytale.”
“Fantasy. Riiiiight.” Natalie took a sip of her merlot,
enjoying the warmth flowing down her throat. She’d need several bottles of wine
before she started believing in fairytales. She returned the glass to the table
and trailed her fingers up and down the stem. “The only fantasies I believe in
are the ones I have when I’m riding the purple bunny.”
“Bunny?” Kerry paused, a twenty dollar bill in hand for the
waiter, and glanced from Natalie to Miz. “What purple bunny and what does it
have to do with fantasy?”
“For writing romantic erotica, you sure are naïve.” Miz
leaned forward, her small breasts pressed against the table. In a loud voice
she said, “Nat’s talking about a vibrator that has little bunny ears. The ears
stimulate the clit.”
Kerry’s face went redder than her auburn hair as she tossed
the twenty on the table and pushed out her chair. “It’s time to go.” She
grabbed her leather briefcase, stood, and raised her chin in the air. “I need
to check in at the convention center and have time to go over my presentation.”
“You know what you need to loosen up, Kerry?” Miz rifled
through her backpack, dug out some cash and tossed it on top of the twenty.
“You need a good fuck.”
Sucking in her breath, Kerry clutched her briefcase to her
chest. Her eyes darted to Natalie in an apparent plea for support.
“She’s right.” Natalie plunked down her share of the bill
and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair. “You need to get laid.”
With a resigned sigh, Kerry patted her severe bun and
adjusted her glasses. “You may be right.”
Miz cracked up with laughter and Natalie grinned.
The women headed out of the restaurant to the nearby
Williamsburg convention center that housed the “Out of this World” convention.
It was a short walk, and Natalie enjoyed the feel of the crisp fall Virginia
air against her cheeks and the cool breeze stirring her wine-red hair around
her shoulders. A harvest moon, perfect for Halloween night, was just rising
over the Atlantic.
“What the hell is that?” Miz gestured toward a light in the
distance.
Natalie squinted, watching the white glowing object float
through the night sky and then vanish behind a grove of trees. “No clue.”
“Probably something to do with Halloween.” Kerry picked up her
pace. “Let’s hurry, ladies. I don’t want to be late.”
An eerie sensation trailed down Natalie’s spine. She
shivered and slid her hands into the pockets of her jacket. If she had been the
slightest bit superstitious, she would have turned around and headed straight
back to her apartment in New York City and to that purple bunny waiting in her
lingerie drawer.
Chapter One
“No room at the inn.”
Of course the manager at this quaint Williamsburg Inn, the
official home for the tenth annual “Out of this World” convention, had stated
it more politely than that. But that is what she heard.
“I am very sorry, Ms. Perry. It appears that your
reservation has been lost in our computer. If I had any spare rooms at all, I
would give one to you. Unfortunately, we are completely booked due to the
convention. And we haven’t had a single cancellation or no show.”
Kerry Perry nodded her head, but she pulled from her pocket
the brochure for the conference. Opening it up, she pointed to the middle of
the page where her name was listed as a speaker. “The organizers promised me it
was all arranged, otherwise I would have seen to it myself.”
“If you’ll just give me a moment, Ms. Perry, I’ll see what I
can do about correcting this mistake.” John Abbott turned quickly from the main
desk and walked through the door marking the private office.
Kerry took another deep breath. “Stay calm,” she muttered
quietly. “This isn’t being done deliberately to me. It could just as easily
have happened to anyone else.” Forcing another deep breath through her lungs,
Kerry fought the urge to call her friends. In fact, this same thing was
probably occurring to some other poor schmuck right this very moment in another
hotel. Unfortunately, while calming herself with rationalizations might help
with a few of her phobias, it wasn’t helping solve the problem. Being
completely honest with herself, she reluctantly acknowledged she was really
upset about something else entirely.
It had all started two years ago when she decided, just for
fun, to add some quirky little ghosts to a story she had written. Since then,
her publishers had wanted her to write more and more paranormal, fantasy and
science fiction genres for her erotic novels. In the beginning, she had no
intention of attending any conventions—not on romance, sci-fi or any other kind
of gathering of readers, writers or just fans in general. The publicity might
help her writing career, but it could submarine her teaching one. Still, she
had a persuasive editor and publisher.
Thus, with her publisher paving and paying her way, and her
editor encouraging her through the bumps in the road and detours, Kerry found
herself in Williamsburg, Virginia and “roomless.” Thanks to her generous
publisher and influential editor, Kerry was now stuck here for seven days. After
the convention, she was lucky enough to have four extra days to rest, relax and
return completely refreshed and ready to write.
“Ms. Perry?”
Kerry turned to see the manager had returned, and he was
smiling. Perhaps things were about to improve. Forcing a smile to her lips,
Kerry asked the expected, “Yes?”
“Good news! Unfortunately, the rest of the hotels are booked
because of the convention as well. But a friend of mine is planning on opening
a lovely bed and breakfast soon, and he is happy to have you as his first
guest.”
“Are you sure about that, Mr. Abbott? It sounds like he
wasn’t planning on any guests for some time.”
“Not to worry, Ms. Perry. Quite a few of the rooms are
finished, but my friend divides his time between fixing the place up himself
and work. He’ll be here in a few minutes to give you a ride to the Rose.”
Kerry lifted one eyebrow, which had always nicely and
quickly intimidated her students in the past, and usually brought forth amazing
confessions and the truth. “The Rose?”
“The name of the bed and breakfast is Fair Rose. It goes
back to an old story…” John stopped as he was interrupted by one of his desk
clerks. He turned back a moment later. “If you’ll have a seat in the lounge,
I’ll come for you as soon as he gets here.”
Kerry nodded, picked up her bags, then walked the short
distance to where several chairs were grouped together. She was still in the
lobby and could easily see people coming and going through the main entrance.
The thought of sitting in a smoke-filled, loud bar didn’t sound like fun to
her. Crossing her legs, she set her expensive, plain leather bag on her lap.
Rubbing one hand across the leather, her finger traced over the brass turn
lock. Kerry acknowledged the purse was like her life.
She wore her dark auburn hair carefully twisted into a neat
and tidy bun most of the time, or pulled into a ponytail. She had two pairs of
glasses: one with heavy dark frames, and the second with wire rims and smaller
lenses. A friend had talked her into the second pair, but Kerry thought they
looked like Ben Franklin rejects. This afternoon, she had arrived at the inn
dressed in an off-white blouse with a skirt and jacket made of a quiet,
earth-toned herringbone pattern. With her brown purse and one inch brown pumps,
she was the perfectly groomed schoolteacher. Or rather, she was dressed
perfectly if this was still the fifties or sixties, or she was in her fifties!
Kerry took a deep breath, looking at the entrance and
wishing she were somewhere else once again. What a great place to spend her
fortieth birthday! Unmarried, unattached and forty! Everything a modern woman
yearned for…NOT! The doors opened again and Kerry watched and wondered if this
would be her ride.
* * * * *
Broderick Douglass walked through the front doors of the
Williamsburg Inn, scanning for his so-called best friend, John Abbott. The last
thing he needed was a woman staying at the house. Sure, the house was
technically ready, as were the gardens. But he’d been so busy trying to get his
law practice started that he hadn’t had the time to put the finishing touches
on the bed and breakfast yet.
When John called him at his office, which was located off
the rear entrance of the bed and breakfast, he’d been in the middle of some
research for a local farmer disputing land rights. Working two jobs was
becoming a major hassle. He paused about ten feet from the desk, seeing the
long lines. At least he knew John hadn’t been pulling his leg about “no room at
the inn.” Removing his aviator style sunglasses, he let his eyes roam around
the lobby, wondering if he could pick out the spinster who’d be his first
official guest.
Abruptly his gaze stopped on a woman seated a short distance
away. She looked like every schoolteacher he’d ever suffered through, and the
sinking feeling in his gut told him instinctively she would be his guest for
the next few days. Slipping his sunglasses in the pocket of his leather jacket,
he started toward the woman.
* * * * *
Kerry couldn’t take her eyes off the man dressed in the
black leather jacket, white T-shirt and jeans. When her eyes moved down, after
a long pause halfway, she saw that he was wearing the required leather boots,
also black. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she was looking at the guy
who starred in that Highlander television show: piercing blue eyes, sensual
mouth, short black ponytail and the “to die for” body. Suddenly, feeling all
twitchy and quivering inside, Kerry found herself revising her previous opinion
about modern men and ponytails.
This man could have walked out of any of her erotic stories.
Without warning, a phrase shot through her consciousness—the stuff that dreams
are made of! Yup! That described this man exactly. Maybe by observing him
carefully, she could turn him into one of her heroic studs. Then she realized he
was walking towards her…Oh my God! He was stopping right in front of her! Kerry
felt the breath rush out of her body in shock. Perhaps he was lost or just
asking for directions?
“Are you Ms. Perry?”
Kerry felt her bones melting as she listened to his deep,
slightly raspy voice. She couldn’t believe how blue his eyes were as she stared
up at him. Yes, indeed, she mused in her head. This man was worth dreaming
about.
“Ms. Perry?”
Kerry flushed brightly as she realized she had been staring
at the man while he was politely inquiring about her identity. Jumping up from
her chair, her purse slid from her lap and knocked over her briefcase. In that
moment, as she started to answer the man, her briefcase opened and disclosed
its contents. Kerry watched in disbelief as a phallic device, almost identical
to the one Miz had shown them earlier, rolled out of her briefcase and over to
the man’s right foot. At some point, Kerry acknowledged in horror and
embarrassment, her
dear
friends must have stuck this thing in her briefcase.
Leave it to her friends to make this a hum-dinger of a
surprise as well. It was a ten-inch latex cock, looking like a misshapen flag.
Now it was lying on the tasteful, sedate carpet of this historic inn. The
insane thought raced through her brain that technically, being red, white and
blue, it sort of fit in. Feeling like she was frozen in place, Kerry watched
the handsome man squat down and pick the vibrator up.
Kerry prayed nothing else would happen to increase her
embarrassment when she realized that the buzzing sound in her head was really
coming from the vibrator. Somehow, in the fall, it had turned itself on. Great!
It was preloaded with batteries. She’d have to make sure she thanked her
thoughtful friends next time she saw them! Grateful beyond belief, Kerry
watched as the man turned it off while he slipped it back into the briefcase,
picking both bags up as he rose.
“I wonder if murder due to embarrassment is allowable?” she
muttered quietly.
“I wouldn’t do it, if I were you. You’d just end up being
embarrassed all over again during the court trial.” He smiled, adding softly,
“Don’t forget the presentation and
demonstration
of evidence…if the
glove fits—”
Kerry was stunned by the whiteness of his teeth. This man
could be a model or a movie star. Up close, she could see his face wasn’t
perfect. A slight crook in the bridge of his nose, a small nick of a scar on
his chin, and a longer scar went down the side of his face, from temple to jaw.
“Are these the only two bags you have?” Broderick asked,
nodding at the small overnight bag and briefcase.
Kerry shook her head. “No, but the manager said he’d have
them driven over shortly. “
“Then,” he smiled at her again, “follow me and we’ll head
back to the bed and breakfast and get you settled in for the night.”
Kerry followed the man outside but stopped abruptly when she
saw their mode of transportation—it was an honest to God Harley-Davidson
motorcycle, complete with silver hardware and pretty tags. There was no way she
could get up on that thing. She must have been shaking her head because a
moment later the man grinned at her.
“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll get you there in one piece.”
Kerry couldn’t return his grin as her nerves gripped her
consciousness. She was a little insulted at being called “ma’am” but even more
distressed at the thought of hiking her skirt sky high to ride this monstrous
beast. Taking a deep breath, she started to speak. “I—”
“It’s easy, ma’am. I’ll use the long straps and hold the
overnight bag on the back here, and then if you’ll drape your purse and the
other bag across your uhm…yeah, like that. Oh, I forgot. I’m Broderick
Douglass, owner of the Fair Rose bed and breakfast.”
Before Kerry could reply, he had his helmet on and was
astride the mighty beast. “Put your foot on mine and then swing the other leg
over. Uhh, you will have to hike that skirt up some.”
Kerry followed his direction, ignoring her doubts. With her
skirt pulled up to mid-thigh, she started to follow the man’s directions.
Broderick must have assisted her because a moment later Kerry was astride the
big, black Harley. She didn’t wait to be told, but quickly slipped her arms
around his body.
“Hold on!” Broderick told her unnecessarily above the roar
of the powerful machine. Kerry felt him kicking the brake back, heard the
erotic revving of the motor and then they were off.
“Oh my Gawd!” Kerry screamed as the motorcycle careened away
from the inn’s entrance.
