by Mlyn Hurn
Colonial Ghost
Mlyn Hurn
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 anthologyThings That Go Bump in the Night III.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
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.
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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 fal
l 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.