Now and Forever:: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE NOVEL (RAVENHURST SERIES Book 5)

by Lorraine Beaumont

  NOW & FOREVER

  (COMING 2014)

  SPECIAL EDITION BOX SET

  A Victorian Christmas at Ravenhurst

  DECEMBER 2014

  THE BRIARCLIFF SERIES

  BRIARCLIFF

  BRIARCLIFF: A NEW BEGINNING: ELYOGRAG

  BRIARCLIFF: A REAWAKENING: GARGOYLE

  BRIARCLIFF: A RECKONING: DEGARE’

  (COMING 2014)

  SCROLL DOWN FOR A SPECIAL

  SNEAK PEEK INTO THE BRIARCLIFF SERIES

  AN URBAN DARK FANTASY PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES

  ***

  Darkness had just begun its swift decent when he spotted her, by accident, not knowing what she was until it was too late. She beguiled him with her beauty, mesmerizing him with her bewitching eyes, her long flowing auburn hair twisting in the wind. She was the fairest maiden he had ever seen. It hurt to look upon her, for she was so very beautiful. So when she beckoned him to her, he went willingly.

  Feeling her pull harnessing him to her, he closed the space between them. He said not a word as he slipped his hand around her back, pulling her closer. She looked up at him with such innocence, his entire body shook from it. His mouth seized hers in a kiss that shattered his very soul. Her deep red lips succulent, beyond anything he had ever known. He tasted her sweetness emitting from her mouth and delved deeper, savoring every moment, his heart pounding erratically.

  The sweetness of their shared kisses turned into something more, frenetic urgency began to fill him. He was a young man, but his experience with women was very limited. He was clumsy, anxious; he hardened quickly, wanting more, not able to slow his raging urgency. She lay upon the ground, her long cloak beneath, giving them some defense against the cold floor of the forest. He pulled her gown up, exposing her flawless body. She wore nothing underneath. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. She fumbled with the front of his pants, releasing him fully into her hands, squeezing. He moaned in sheer ecstasy as he ran his hands over her breasts, gently, not wanting to mar their simple perfection. She pulled him back down and kissed him fervently… taking everything he had to offer and more than he was capable of giving. He wanted to thrust deep inside of her, to feel her close around him. He was losing his mind, but she kept whispering to wait. He didn’t understand, he didn’t think he could…

  She pushed against him…the sweet kisses turned into something cold, calculating. She began to scream.

  Fear seized him… he did not want to harm her, he only wanted to be close to her as any man would want to be with a woman, except he was not yet a man.

  Torches broke into the tree line, bathing them both in the flickering light. Angry screams filled the air around him. He looked at her beseechingly, not knowing what he had done wrong. He was pulled from her forcefully; he tried to fight, trying to reach her. She was screaming now, at the men who held him, not to release him, but to punish him for what he had done to her… his heart shattered, blackness seeped into his soul as they dragged him forward toward a pyre. They gathered around her as she cursed him and spat upon him. Vile words were tossed upon his head as jeers to kill him filled the air. He was being damned for a crime he did not commit.

  The light receded and darkness filled the area, swallowing all around in its icy grasp. He looked up to the sky, not knowing why something so wonderful could turn so twisted and bleak within a hairbreadth of a moment. He cast his gaze in her direction, not struggling any longer, but seeing her with another pair of eyes, ones that were no longer clouded by a young man’s desire, lust, and infatuation. His day had suddenly turned dark. She was not the fair pure maiden he had thought her to be, but instead, a tainted she-devil, luring him to his own demise.

  He struggled once more to break free, but it was no use. They tied him to the pyre. A torch lowered, setting the mound ablaze. Closing his eyes, he prepared to feel the burn engulfing him, his short life flashing by. But instead of feeling the burning heat of the fire, he felt a cold spread against him from the outside in, turning his human remains not to ash… but to stone.

  ***

  Ruby Hudson slammed on the brakes of her 1971 Grasshopper Green Gremlin, making the wheels squeal noisily on the faded pavement. Throwing the car into reverse, she backed up a few feet and stomped on them again, bringing the car to a jarring halt. Not ten feet in front of her was a worn weathered sign that was nearly impossible to see if you weren’t looking for it. It was covered under the deluge of bird droppings and briars. It said, “We come to Briarcliff,” the letter L getting lost at some point over the years.

  “Gotcha!” she hooted merrily, smacking the top of Ponce de Leon, the little figure mounted to her dashboard, making the head bobble up and down. Jerking on the steering wheel, she made a sharp left turn onto a narrow road hidden within the folds of the forests of the New England coastline.

  The car chugged along kicking up dirt and debris, the heavy branches of ancient towering trees hanging low overhead, blocking out the sky. The leaf springs squeaked loudly in protest when she hit another pothole but it didn’t matter, she kept right on going.

  “I wanna be… forever young… I’m going to be… forever young…” she sang the lyrics to Jay-Z’s “Young Forever,” tapping the steering wheel in time to the song.

  “Not too much longer Ruby,” she assured herself, glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She had seen better days, that was for sure. Her once vibrant red hair had silvered mostly and the telltale wrinkles around her mouth were a dead giveaway she used to smoke and still did, if the mood struck her. Reaching over, she popped the tab on her can of diet Dr. Pepper. The carbonation fizzed up, and she quickly slurped it up before it spilled over the side.

  Finally coming to the end of the road she pulled over, throwing her car it into park and killing the ignition. Over to her right was another sign, mounted to a wooden post that too had seen better days. The print barely legible any longer, but it didn’t matter she already knew what it said.

  In silence, she sat there, staring at the sign. Then she lifted her can of diet Dr. Pepper and made a silent toast before finishing it off.

  “It’s now or never Ruby,” she said wistfully and grabbed her keys; her knapsack from the passenger seat filled with her notebooks, maps, and containers for samples. She reached out, smacked the top of Ponce de Leon again, making his head bobble, and then climbed from her car. The diet Dr. Pepper can fell out, rolling noisily. She reached down to grab it but never stood back up. Everything turned black as she crumpled to the ground, the can of diet Dr. Pepper still held firmly in her grasp.

  ***

  Evie Harrington bent down to write the daily specials on the chalkboard set up on the sidewalk in front of “The Briar Patch” café’.

  “Scuzey, scuzey, Ms. Harrington,” Mr. Bixby said as he rushed past her doing a dodge-and-weave back onto the pavement. He was wearing his staple bright red Adidas tracksuit, high stepping i.e. his signature work out move. He reminded her of a prancing horse. At eleven o’clock on the dot, he would take an early lunch and high step around the town square. She lifted her hand in the air and waved at Mrs. Winters as she bustled around in circles across the street…grabbing at papers that were now gusting in the wind with one hand while she used her other hand to hold down the hem of her dress.

  Briarcliff Township had its fair share of eccentrics. Maybe the small town merely seemed to amplify the occupant’s personalities. If they were in a big city you probably wouldn’t notice them as much…well, then again, maybe you would. They were hard to miss.

  “Woo Hoo, Evie,” Jenny Jenkins called and trotted over toward her with a baby Bjorn strapped across her chest…her daughter Mable’s chubby legs dangling out of the bottom.

  “Hey Mrs. Jenkins,” Evie said as she pushed the chalkboard easel over to the side of the door.

  “Are your mom and dad coming back for the holidays?”

  “Ah, it’s still kind of early. I’m not real sure…maybe.”

  “Wel
l if they don’t you know you are more than welcome to come to our house for the holiday, mi casa e s sue casa.”

  “Yeah…ah…” Evie chewed on her lip.

  “Oh it will be perfect,” she said, cutting Evie off and reaching forward to squeeze her arm. “You need some meat on those bones of yours. Don’t you worry…Jenny will have you fattened up in no time. It’s the least I can do for your mom. Of course that will give you plenty of time to play with my little Mable here.”

  Mable? Nooo! “Wait…erhm…Dang. I forgot, I am supposed to go to Moriah’s if my parents can’t make it.” Evie tried to backtrack.

  Jenny creased her brow. “Oh, I didn’t realize her mother cooked…” She flipped her shoulder-length highlighted blonde hair over her shoulder and then cooed at her daughter, patting Mable’s bottom.

  “Yeah, she does sometimes, um, on special occasions,” Evie lied, dodging the bullet.

  “Well,” she breathed, “if you change your mind…”

  “Of course, I will let you know, I mean if my plans change,” Evie rushed out nicely. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

  “Well you know it is the least I can do. You poor dear…”She reached out and petted her arm. “Stuck all alone, day in and out with no family close by. I don’t know what your parents were thinking, leaving you all alone. I would never leave my little babies alone, ever…would I, my little sweetheart,” she cooed to her daughter. Mable gurgled out a mouth full of bubbles.

  Evie tried not to roll her eyes. “I’m certainly going to miss playing with this little sweet girl,” she lied again and cooed at the baby as she leaned forward to touch Mable’s little frilly pink sock. Mable kicked out her foot and proceeded to cry.

  Jenny widened her eyes and covered Mable’s leg protectively with her hand. She lifted her arm and looked at her watch. “My goodness would look at the time. I have to run…,” she said breezily, and then turned taking off down the street, her blonde bob bobbing in the wind with her velour clad “Juicy Couture” bottom swishing back and forth in a fast walk.

  “That was too close.” Jenny Jenkins was nice enough, but she was always looking for someone to watch Mable. No ifs ands or butts about it, Mable was on her way to becoming a full-fledged brat. Dinner at her house would consist of Jenny getting tipsy on wine and chitchatting up her guests while she unloaded Mable on Evie. Then Evie would be stuck at the kiddies table squashed between little Jimmy Jenkins and Timmy, his twin brother, who had a fascination with breasts. They liked to poke them with their stubby fingers and yell “booobies.” Then she would get to clean up the dishes. She knew this because she made the mistake of going last year. No thank you.

  Evie walked back into the coffee shop and flipped on the television. The Barefoot Contessa’s velvety soft, slightly raspy voice filled the coffee shop while she straightened the chairs around the tables. She reminded her of a Christmas cookie…warm and sugary. She bet she would be a really good hugger. She picked up a few empty cups and a copy of the newspaper. Crumpling it up to take a shot in the wastebasket, a small clip caught her eye. She uncrumpled the paper and spread it out on the table.

  “ANOTHER DESERTED CAR FOUND NEAR THE BOTTOMLESS POOLS”

  It went on to say the car was from out of state and unfortunately, whoever was driving may have become another casualty of the bottomless pools. Of course, there was still no body found, so who knew? Maybe they got lucky and took their asses back across the old rickety, wooden monstrosity of a bridge that covered the expanse of fifty or sixty feet and hovered above the steaming bottomless pools. The pools had a really bad undertow and had a tendency to suck things to who knew where. It was such a shame too. Didn’t anyone read the signs posted all around the pools? And they were big too.

  “BEWARE UNDERTOW” “SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK” “CAUTION DO NOT ENTER” “DANGEROUS”

  not to mention the biggest deterrent of all, if you asked her,

  “PRIVATE PROPERTY

  NO TRESSPASSING

  $500 FINE”

  Besides, her ass wouldn’t swim in the water, and she lived here; neither would any of the other locals. It was probably another “Granola” tripping on something who decided to rediscover their youth by taking a dip in the pools. At one time, the town’s big catchphrase had been… “Briarcliff: A place to reinvigorate your senses and rediscover your youth.” It should have said, “Briarcliff: A place to disappear for like… ever.”

  At least that is what happened to a few of the out of Towner’s. They went missing. Either that or Briarcliff had become the new place to dump your car, and then what happened to the people driving them? Now that was the million-dollar question. Since no bodies had ever been found, it was hard to cry foul play. Evie had her own ideas about what might have happened to them, but tended to keep them to herself since they were pretty out there.

  Folding the paper, she stuffed it under her arm, pulled out a rag from her gingham blue apron, and wiped the three coffee rings off the table. After she was finished, she walked over to the front window and opened the blinds fully…and there was Briarcliff Manor, which was even creepier than the bridge. It loomed above the town like a beacon, overlooking the entire east village square. The square had a huge clock tower that sat atop an old redbrick columned building where meetings used to be held, but was now mostly used for wedding receptions and the occasional festival or movie night on the front lawn.

  Since it was October now, they had Horror fest after dark in the park on Friday nights and Saturday nights. Evie remembered the conversation from last weekend when they played a triple feature of Evil Dead.

  “I’m not kidding man,” Chance defended. “Briarcliff Manor is whacked.” He widened his eyes.

  “Dude, he peed?” Colton scoffed. “What a girl.”

  “Hey. I’m just saying. If I was walking down the road and I heard footsteps but nothing was there when I turned around.” He shook his head. “I can’t judge.”

  “Chance was probably the one that peed,” Barnaby whispered into Evie’s ear. He was sitting beside her on an old plaid blanket they had spread out on the lawn, bags of munchies and drink containers scattered across the top.

  “You’re probably right,” she whispered back smiling, bumping her shoulder with his. Although, it wouldn’t surprise her if the story were true. Everyone said the place was haunted. That’s why no one lived there. It had been deserted since she could remember. Apparently, a lot of the stonework came from parts of actual castles, brought over on ships, and then put on trains. Not that she ever saw a train. At night though, once in a while, when the air was really still, she could swear she heard the whistle of one blowing and the roar of the engine. It was probably the ocean, or she was hearing things, or she had watched one too many scary movies. Either way, it was just weird.

  Glancing at the clock her mind came back to the present. “Come on, Hanna,” she groaned, walking back over to get the coffee ready for the mid-morning rush. Hanna was late again. She was supposed to close up tonight so Evie could help Moriah set up for the party Kingston was throwing tomorrow.

  Hanna was a space cadet…a very “we are not alone” type of girl. Evie didn’t mind…she was nice. She just wished she would show up to work on time, for once. Not that Hanna got paid much, but hey, at least she had a job. Hanna and her boy toy/friend could hang and talk alien crap to each other all night. He was Scully. Hanna was Mulder. They dubbed themselves that from an old television show called “The X-Files,”… at least that’s what was written on their t-shirts. They were even saving up to go to Roswell, New Mexico, where the aliens crash-landed, “supposedly.” They were the ultimate conspiracy theorists. Hanna liked to wear her alien antenna headband, too. The little sparkles continually flew off the green b-balls bouncing on springs and always ended up getting into some random customers coffee…like they needed anything else to complain about. Coffee was a great markup, but when you had to give it away free, it really put a damper on the profit margin.

  The little b
ell above the coffee house door trilled loudly as someone walked in. It had been pretty slow all morning. Turning away from the coffee machine, she wiped her hands on her apron, and immediately groaned. “Lucky me,” she muttered dejectedly under her breath. It was Heather Bishop and her minions. Evie tried to look busy, turning her back quickly so she wouldn’t have to see Heather give her one of her evil glares, which included lifting her pouty lips into a snarl, like a rabid dog. Once when Heather was in the coffee house and had taken a drink of her cappuccino, the froth clung to her lips and she looked just like Cujo. At least that is what Evie dubbed her. Bitch was probably more accurate, but Cujo was funnier. She heard Heather’s fake nails tapping on the counter, the sound reminding her of a dog tippy-tapping on the floor. She bet she dragged her ass on the carpet too. Evie smiled from the mental image and turned around. “Oh hey Heather, what can I do you for today?” she asked brightly, forcing a smile on her face.

  Heather looked over Evie’s shoulder, not looking directly at her, which made her want to turn to see what was behind her. It drove her crazy. Addison and Brianna gasped, and trotted over to the end of the counter. They were part of Heather’s entourage…her cohorts: they were identical twins with disturbingly bright blue eyes and complexions so pale they made Casper look tan. Their unruly red hair was pushed back away from their faces, with thick black plastic headbands and tied off into ponytails that were pulled over their thin shoulders. They were wearing similar outfits. She wondered if they called each other to coordinate. They each wore snug cotton button ups, short plaid skirts, and argyle thigh-highs with kitten heels. They all looked like they were wearing uniforms, except Briarcliff didn’t have uniforms. The only differences in the outfits were the colors and what designer purse they had jacked up on their shoulders. Brianna and Addison leaned forward, peering into the glass dessert case, salivating over all the French pastries.