by Unknown
FOREVER NIGHT
Xondra Day
EROTIC ROMANCE
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Erotic Romance
FOREVER NIGHT
Copyright © 2011 by Xondra Day
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-060-7
First E-book Publication: November 2011
Cover design by Beth Walker
Edited by Julie Bogle
Proofread by Lacie Nation
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Secret Cravings Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
Dedication
For my readers. Without you I wouldn’t have a writing career.
FOREVER NIGHT
Xondra Day
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
There was something about the painting, something that Carrie Ann couldn’t place her finger on. Standing before the fireplace, she studied the canvas, her eyes tracing the subject, a man, over and over. His smile managed to look both devilish and warm at the same time, and he certainly made a most handsome subject, looking debonair in his dark gray suit.
Like everything else in the house, the painting came along with the sale. It was another reminder of a bygone era—an era which had long since come to pass yet was reflected through the decor in each room. Carrie Ann closed her eyes and pictured what the house must have looked like back in the day, during a time that would never come to be again. The thought saddened her.
The house was built in 1912 by the man featured in the portrait, Augustine LaMount. His name like fine wine flowed through her mind as she said it over and over again, sounding out each syllable.
A crash of thunder boomed overheard in the night sky. She clutched her half-drunk glass of burgundy, and lifted it in the air as a toast to her long dead predecessor. “To us, and the house.” The toast was simple, short, and sweet. No other words were needed. It was just the two of them without another soul for miles. The storm carried on outside, the hard rain beating against the windowpanes as huge gusts of wind blew in from the ocean.
The lights flickered once, twice, and a third time. Candles—she needed candles. She found the candles in a sideboard in the formal dining room and upon returning to the front parlor, she placed three in a tall silver candelabrum before lighting them one at a time.
Watching each flame catch, her mind harkened back to her first encounter with the house a couple months back, along with the curious circumstances that led her there. It seemed like everything had been predetermined long before she made that final decision to purchase.
She hadn’t been looking for a property, for anything in fact during that summer vacation upstate. Her small condo in the city suited her fine. She didn’t need anything bigger, but when she first spotted the house, it struck something inside of her. She was forever branded.
* * * *
“The house dates back to 1912. It was built by Mr. Augustine LaMount for his new bride, Maribeth. It has been empty for the past fifteen years. But it’s my understanding that the current owners have taken great care of the property. Their initial plans had been to convert the place into a bed and breakfast, but for some reason, it never came to be,” explained Mrs. Bonnie, the relator in charge of the listing. “The price is an absolute steal in this harsh market. They could have priced it so much higher.” She pointed to the ocean which fronted the property and smiled. “That view alone and the frontage are worth it. Just smell that salt air, and listen to the waves. It’s glorious.”
She agreed. “It’s lovely. You said they’re selling the house well below its value?” Overhead, she heard a seagull cry out.
Mrs. Bonnie nodded. “Yes. I did try and sway them to ask for more, but they wanted to get rid of it. I can understand why they would. It must be a terrible burden for them. Upkeep for such a large house is expensive, especially since they had to hire someone to look in on the place. They don’t live in the immediate area.”
Carrie Ann was extremely curious to see the house’s interior. “The listing states it possesses four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a renovated modern kitchen, but still retains much of its old time charm, including many of the original furnishings which are being sold with the house.”
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Bonnie. “Let’s take a look inside. I promise you won’t be disappointed,” she gushed. She motioned with one hand for Carrie Ann to follow her up the narrow, rock hewn path.
On the veranda, Mrs. Bonnie turned and smiled as she put the key in the front door’s lock. “Can you imagine sitting out here on those gorgeous summer evenings? If my husband wasn’t such an old son of a gun, I’d go for this place myself. I’d snap it up right quick and that would be the end of it.” The lock clicked.
Carrie Ann nodded. “You’ve just about sold me on the place.” It was darn near perfect.
“Have I?” asked the realtor, still smiling. “Then come right on in.” She pushed the door open, and held it for Carrie Ann, sucking in a breath. “Be prepared to step back in time.”
She was right. Just inside the door, Carrie Ann found herself surrounded by magnificent stained glass and dark hardwoods. The glass pattern consisted of floral scenes. Each panel highlighted a different flower, illuminated by the warm, midday sunlight. “Wow.” She marveled at the intricate patterns. “This is simply gorgeous.”
Mrs. Bonnie nodded in agreement. “It really is breathtaking. Now, the front hall spans all the way through the house. Back there you will find a kitchen which we will view in a moment. But first, let’s have a look at the front parlor.”
It truly was like stepping back in time, just as Mrs. Bonnie had stated. All around them were things from a bygone era, each a testament in their own right to a time period in which they were produced and used. “This is something. And you said all this comes with the house?”
“Yes, everything here is included in the sale,” reaffirmed Mrs. Bonnie.
It totally wasn’t her style, yet Carrie Ann felt drawn in, like she’d been there before, and that strange sense
of deja vu didn’t go unnoticed. “And the price?” she asked, feeling the need to hear it again.
“It’s as I stated. They want it gone. Plus, there haven’t been any offers yet.”
Carrie Ann ran her hand across a vast marble fireplace mantle and looked up at a large painting hanging over it. A very handsome man with dark eyes looked out over the room, his face stern and his hands folded in his lap. “Who is that?” she asked, pointing to the image forever locked in oil, the silver gilt frame glimmering ever so slightly.
“That’s Augustine LaMount, the original owner. Isn’t he gorgeous?” Mrs. Bonnie grinned. “Now, let’s move on to the kitchen. You’re going to love this room. It’s a real gem.”
Mrs. Bonnie was right. As far as kitchens went, this one was a complete and utter showstopper—top of the line in every way. “Very nice,” she said, sweeping her hand along the marble countertop. “I’m not one for cooking, but this is a chef’s dream. It’s very appealing—a strong selling point.”
Upstairs, they walked down the vast hallway, passing several doors. Mrs. Bonnie told her about each room as they passed it, only stopping briefly to look inside.
“This is the master bedroom. It’s a decent size with an en suite bathroom, and a fireplace for those cold winter nights.”
Carrie Ann shivered as she entered the room. It was weird and downright strange that this room would be so cold during early summer, especially when the rest of the house was borderline stifling from the heat after being closed up for so long. She searched with her eyes for an open window. Nothing. “Is this room air-conditioned?”
“Goodness, no. There isn’t any call for that here. They did install ceiling fans in most of the rooms.” Mrs. Bonnie pointed to one overhead, and then a strange expression crossed her face, one of discomfort. “Let’s move back downstairs, shall we?”
Carrie Ann finished her tour of the house back in the parlor. She sat and waited as Mrs. Bonnie crunched numbers. She handed a piece of paper to Carrie Ann and said, “I think that if you place an offer in this range they would accept it. It’s a good price, but not too far off the mark.”
She traced the number, and thought about the amount. “That’s just…I could never get anything remotely like this in the city for that price.” Her small condo had cost twice the number that was written on the paper.
The realtor nodded. “That’s just one of many perks that comes from living in a more rural area. So, shall I place the offer or would you like some time to think about it?”
“Place it,” she agreed, heaving a sigh of much needed relief knowing that the final decision had been made. It felt good. It felt right.
* * * *
The room grew cold, and then colder still.
Carrie Ann exhaled, and watched as her breath materialized in front of her. He was near. She sensed him, his presence in the room. It was his way of telling her he’d arrived—that at any time she might catch the slightest glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, or feel his touch.
“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice deep but soft, his cool hand caressing the small of her back. She trembled. This couldn’t be happening.
A second hand slid around her waist. And when she looked down, she saw her blouse ruffling where his hand should have been. She turned to see him, but there was nothing. And once again she was alone, craving more.
* * * *
He’d waited so long for this, for her. She was the one, the one who would complete him once again. The house had been Augustine’s prison for decades. But now he’d never be alone again. His waiting was over.
In the bedroom, he stood in the shadows watching her slowly undress. He was tempted to make contact again, just as he had earlier that night.
She was perfect in every way—soft skin, intriguing eyes, and a heady scent. And now in the recesses of the dim candlelit room, he could see more, so much more. Her breasts were supple, begging to be suckled. She excited him…Maribeth.
Sweet Maribeth. She was his first love, his wife, and the mother of his children. Then he’d had to leave them, and when he returned, they were gone. It was far too late to try and change things. The house, the walls…they contained him now and held him, locked in time. That would never change. It was his final destiny.
People had come and gone over the years, yet nothing ever held them for long. The house was his, and always would be. The past owners had sensed his presence. It was as if his very being had impressed itself into everything around him.
He’d do things to let them know they weren’t alone. It amused him to make the temperature drop at a whim. It always made them feel uneasy, and he liked that. They were the intruders.
He liked this intruder, though. Her nipples were a stark contrast to her alabaster skin. They stood out like small rosebuds, begging to be plucked, touched, fondled and sucked. He imagined what it would be like to take them in his mouth one at a time, savoring their soft texture, feeling them stiffen as he manipulated them with his tongue.
“Call for me, my love,” he whispered. “Call me now.”
* * * *
“Augustine.” The sound of his name rolling off Carrie Ann’s tongue was enough to make her shiver. He was there with her, she could feel him. Pulling the bedclothes up around her, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a dream.
“It isn’t a dream, I assure you.” She heard him again, and felt as though her heart would leap from her chest.
“Lover, don’t be scared.” His breath felt hot against the back of her neck with every word he spoke. “You want this.”
She moaned, and bit down on her bottom lip when she felt his fingers on her pussy, sliding her panties aside, the hem of her nightdress moving upward.
“Yield to me.”
“Yes.” The word escaped her mouth with a gasp as his fingers toyed with her clit. “Don’t stop,” she begged, riding the delicious wave of ecstasy flooding her inner core.
“I’ll never stop.” One of his fingers slid inside her, and pressing back against him, she felt his stiff cock bumping up against her ass.
She reached back to caress him only to find cool flesh. It was startling because she hadn’t noticed it before. It couldn’t be normal, and this couldn’t be real. It made no sense. Her mind reasoned that it had to be the wine. She was drunk and dreaming.
Bearing down, Carrie Ann felt the hot pressure growing in her groin. She wanted him, and her body begged him for more pleasure. “Oh my,” she moaned, one hand running along the mattress, her fingernails pressing down.
Pain…she felt it on the right side of her neck. Was he biting her?
She screamed and pulled away in a flash of movement, falling to the floor beside the bed.
Silence. Her heart raced. The room was extremely cold. Trembling, she stood searching the room for any trace of him. “Hello?”
Nothing.
“Hello? Is there anyone here? Please, make yourself known if you are,” she called.
She felt her neck. The skin wasn’t broken, but it felt tender beneath her touch.
She glanced to the windows that looked out over the front of the house. She walked to them, and started to draw the blinds down. She felt like she was being watched. It terrified her.
Outside, the rain and wind pushed against the sides of the house. But once she was back in bed, she felt slightly more secure, and went to sleep.
Chapter Two
The next morning Carrie Ann woke with a jolt, and it took her a minute to recall the events from the previous night. She grabbed the phone next to the bed, and keyed in the realtor’s phone number. She had questions to ask, questions that needed answers.
She waited for one ring to go through, and then another. On the third she heard someone on the other end pick up. “Hello, Crest Harbor realty. How may I help you?” asked Mrs. Bonnie.
“This is Carrie Ann Ryan.”
“Carrie Ann, I was just thinking about you and wondering how you were doing with the house.” Mrs.
Bonnie was perky as always.
“I have some questions to ask you.” She stopped for a minute to think about the most pertinent ones.
“Questions? Oh dear. Is there anything wrong with the house? The home inspection I was given by the previous owners was darn near perfect. There was a slight problem with the plumbing, but it’s nothing serious I assure you.”
Quick to sell…indeed! “Why exactly were they so quick to sell?” she asked, ignoring Mrs. Bonnie’s comments about the plumbing.
“Well, I told you before. They had bought the house to set up as a business, and it didn’t go through for them. My guess is they didn’t want to put the work into the place. It happens all the time. People get in over their heads, and before they know it, they no longer want it—the business, not the house. Sometimes dreams are not reality.”
“Did anything happen to them here? I mean, anything strange by chance?”
“Not that I can recollect. I didn’t have a whole lot of contact with them after the initial listing.”
She was getting nowhere with this. “Things have been happening here and I can’t explain them.”
Mrs. Bonnie sucked in a breath. “The house has a history.”
Carrie Ann tossed her head back and rolled her eyes. This was a fine time to finally get this little tidbit of information. “Just what is this history?” she asked, quickly becoming annoyed with the woman.
“It’s haunted. Or that’s what people around these parts say.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” The woman should have told her before the final sale papers had been signed. “I had a right to know this.” She wanted to slam the phone down, but she wasn’t done with Mrs. Bonnie. Not yet!
