Mom… dad… my wedding day… running barefoot through grass as tall as my chest as my siblings chased me. There I was helping mom make bouquets and centerpieces for Aphrodite’s birthday, fencing with Athena. And then finally, the feel of Gabriel’s hands as they slid around my body, dragging me down to the carpet and—
Hades…his name is Hades…
I shook violently as I felt raw power ignite in my blood, flowers erupting from the floor beneath my feet before twisting and twining their way up my body and I smiled, sunshine as warm and fragrant as melted honey spilling across my face and I heard jubilant laughter shake the silence of the room.
I glanced up at the two men, seeing them for perhaps the first time for who they truly were, and I tangled a hand through Hades’ hair, dragging his mouth down to mine as he moaned and deepened the kiss, tongues battling and clashing as he took everything I gave him and gave more. I felt a tingling sensation racing through my body before it exploded in a conflagration of happiness, sorrow and unbridled love, and it was almost too much to bear.
“Now who’s driving who insane?” I asked, laughing with him as he carried us down the hall towards the bedrooms, kicking the door open. “I never thanked Nicholas,” I said as he found my lips again, laying me down on the bed as he rose above me.
“Later.”
“As much as I’d like to have my wanton way with you, there are some things I need to take care of first.” I stopped the progression of his hand as it fluttered over my ribcage, skin prickling with goosebumps.
“Persephone, let yourself enjoy this moment, if only for a second.”
“But, if we continue, I’ll forget what I wanted to say.”
“I sincerely hope you never forget anything ever again, but we’ve been apart too long, and I want to make up for lost time. Starting with these.” He whipped my shirt over my head, cupping my breasts in his calloused hands, as I eeked and rolled out from under him, holding my hands up to ward him off.
“Not until you listen to me.”
He sighed and collapsed back against the pillows, folding his arms above his head. “Make this quick.”
“I want to see Maddy, obviously, visit my greenhouse and find the stash of seeds mother gave me on her last trip here. Then I want to go back to Portland for a day or two.”
“You were just there,” he said between his teeth, jaw clenched. “Why, in the name of the seven Fates, do you insist on torturing me like this?”
“Because I could be useful there,” I said, and he sat up, bracing himself on his elbows.
“How?”
“Well, you’re always insisting that I use my gifts, right? What better way of doing that than opening my own floral shop? I’d be the best florist in the city and I could help you with the souls on my days off, now that I know what I’m doing.”
“You’re already giving yourself vacation days? What would your mother say?”
I slapped him as his lips quirked up into the half-smile I loved. “I’m allowed to set my own hours of business and I fully intend on being very busy five days a week.”
“There’s one problem with your proposal. If you spent seven days a week in Portland, you’d never be here, and I’m not okay with that.”
“My flowers are seasonal, Hades. I’m not a cold-weather gal. I’d work in the city from February until the end of August and then live here with you full-time from September to the end of January. I wouldn’t miss any of our flamboyant family holidays and if I’m sending souls to the Fates myself, you could come to Portland two or three days a week to see me.”
“This would make you happy?”
“Oh, yes, in fact, I can’t find a single flaw in the plan.”
“My reluctant little consort.” He sprang towards me, flattening me to the mattress again as I spat bits of hair out of my mouth. “Very well, I agree. Now, would you please let me seduce you like I’ve wanted to do since I saw you standing in the great hall, looking so delicious in that dress?”
I ran a hand over the navy blue maxi dress, hiking it up, inch by inch, exposing bits of flesh as Hades made a sort of strangling sound, low in his throat. “What, this old thing? Just something I had in the back of the closet. I could take it off if you’d like…”
His control snapped, and he pounced again, ripping it from my body, where it floated to the ground in strips.
“You owe me forty dollars,” I said as his fingertip traced a path up my inner thigh. That was the last coherent thing I said for hours.
Epilogue
Portland, Oregon, 2012
“Can you help me move on or not?”
I clutched the doorframe until my knuckles turned white, staring at the man standing in the middle of my living room, wearing nothing but a pair of holiday boxers, bunny slippers and a crap-filled expression.
“I don’t know who you are, or how you got into my apartment…with the door locked…but if you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”
“Which would be stupid, since they wouldn’t be able to see me. Just you, talking to yourself. Can you send me to the afterlife now? I promised my wife that when it was my time to go, I wouldn’t keep her waiting.”
“Wait, you think you’re…dead?”
He disappeared–poofing out of existence and back again in the kitchen, running a hand through the cooking books, pages lifting and rustling and I eeped, stumbling back into the side table as photo frames crashed to the floor, glass smashing around my feet.
“That’s not possible! How did you…”
“Because I’m dead.”
“But…how?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” he grumbled, passing me to stand by the front door. “Should I assume that’s a ‘hell no’ to helping me, then?”
I nodded, and he sent me a nasty, evil little glance which twisted my gut, as he stuck a shoulder through the door, turning back to me. “For what it’s worth, this is just the beginning. Once other spirits realize what you can do and where you are, you won’t get any rest. My advice? Accept it, or they’ll make your life unendingly difficult.”
He left, and I stood in place, shaking like a leaf.
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Brandy Greeley
Acknowledgments
This story would not be possible without a lot of hard work by several very talented friends, family and even a handful of willing strangers who all dedicated hours and hours to making After Midnight shine. Thank you; words are never enough.
To my husband Todd: you put up with a bunch of reclusive, crazy and at times iffy behavior on my part as I fought to make this the best it could be, and I’ll always remember that. I appreciate the nudges when I didn’t want to write, and for the numerous computer-related tips you gave. You’re my hero.
To Kerri, Laura, Emily and Kalie: you gals rock! Throughout all the story copies I sent to you (riddled with errors of course, because that’s how I roll), questions about character development and plot, and pleas for honest feedback, you’ve been amazingly patient soul-friends. You got to see the product in its earliest stages, and still loved it enough to encourage me to continue. I hope you’ll stick with me through whatever comes next, but in the meantime, thank you for sacrificing so much of your time to this!
To my parents Ken & Tani: thank you from the bottom of my heart for nurturing my budding gift over the years, for framing my works and for never telling me I was crazy when I said my dream was to ‘write’. You made me what I am today, and I will forever be grateful for that, and I love you both very much.
About the Author
Brandy Greeley’s love of reading and writing
started from a young age. While her younger brother dove into sports, she was often on the sidelines, nose buried in a thick fantasy novel. Because of this, she quickly taught herself to speed read – a skill that came in handy during her school-age years and beyond. A graduate of Southern New Hampshire University with a double major in English and Creative Writing, Brandy lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two small dogs.
After Midnight is her first published novel.
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