View Full Version : Halloween Hearts

Veronica Wilde
June 3rd, 2007, 02:06 AM
Available now from StarDust Press (http://www.stardustpress.com)!

A sexy stranger and a chilling ghost hunt equal one very erotic Halloween.

Halloween has always been Tara’s favorite holiday, but this fall it is getting just a little too spooky. First her brother’s paranormal investigation team turns up a ghost who seems to take a personal interest in her. Then the local haunted house is bought by a gorgeous stranger who’s even more mysterious than his resident spook. On top of her paranormal problems, her boyfriend’s seductive third cousin has shown up and is flirting with him in a way that is decidedly uncousinly.

Tara only wants two things – a promotion as a reporter and the departure of her boyfriend’s sexy cousin. She definitely doesn’t want anything to do with Justin Bremington, the aloof and handsome new bachelor in town, or the restless dead who haunt his property…. Or so she tells herself. But when she’s assigned to cover the story on the haunted mansion’s conversion into a gourmet restaurant, she finds herself falling under the spell of both Justin and his resident ghost.

Just one look into Justin’s intense amber gaze ignites a slow burn up Tara’s thighs. Sexy and secretive, he sometimes seems like the answer to her erotic fantasies… and at other times like a selfish cad only interested in her as a sexual toy. But Tara has other problems to worry about as the Halloween Masked Ball approaches. For outside forces both human and ghostly have secret plans for her – and after this Halloween, none of them will ever be the same.

Warning: graphic sexual situations, multiple partners.

Veronica Wilde
June 3rd, 2007, 02:07 AM
The front door swung shut behind Irving, leaving Tara in the early evening shadows. Come on, she called silently to the ghosts. I know you’re here. Why play shy now?

A definite chill was building around her, but she refused to be frightened. Instead she walked into the parlor and cast a last look around the place. I’ll never be able to come back here, she silently told the house. I guess this is goodbye.

Then she turned to see a tall man with long brown hair staring at her from the foyer.

It was the ghost from her dream. Her breath caught in her throat with a dry rattle. A cold trickle of sweat snaked through her hair as she tried to control the pounding of her heart, tried to get her feet to move. They wouldn’t. She was frozen with terror.

“I apologize for not being a good ghost,” the man said. A hint of sarcasm rode his voice. “But you see, being flesh and blood is sort of an impediment.”

She couldn’t speak.

“And of course, where I come from, hosts aren’t required to put on a show for trespassers. All the same, I’m sorry to have disappointed you and your friends.”

“You – you,” she managed.

“I’m Justin Bremington.” His faint British accent made his words sound even more curt. “The new owner who’s apparently chased away the ghosts.”

He walked out of the shadows and into a ray of fading sunlight. Now she could see that he was what he said, flesh and blood. And how. His long silky chestnut hair was loose, framing a tanned but cynical face, and his full mouth held a hint of sensual cruelty. This was not a gullible boy she could flirt with or charm into forgetting the error of her presence here. He was quite a bit taller than her, at least six-three. But it was his amber eyes that mesmerized her. In the glow of sunset, they looked almost golden, like a wolf’s. Wide and clear with a thick fringe of dark lashes, they held a deadly intensity.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “We didn’t know…”

“That the house had been sold? There’s a bright red sign on the front lawn.”

“I know. But we – well, my little brother has been wanting for years to come in here and so we thought this was the last chance –”

Justin continued to gaze implacably at her. Her mouth dried up as she realized how absolutely bereft of excuses she was. At last he spoke.

“Yes, I heard that the house has been a dare of sorts for the local kids.” The realtor told me I might have to contend with that. And now that I’ve met one, you can tell all your little high school friends for me – stay out.”

The sharpness of his tone took her aback. It was a moment before she processed his words. “I’m twenty-four!” she flared. “How dare you call me a ‘little high school kid’!”

His brows arched. “Isn’t twenty-four a bit old to be skulking around haunted houses on dares?”

“We were ghost-hunting!”

He burst into laughter, making her cringe. “That’s even worse, isn’t it? I thought most adults over the age of twenty-one were smart enough to realize ghosts don’t exist.”

Now her blood boiled. “I’ve got news for you. They do exist. And I hope the ghosts in this house prove it to you!”

Now he wasn’t laughing. He leaned forward and looked her in the eye with his intense amber gaze. “No, I’ve got news for you. Ghosts don’t exist – because if they did, I of all people would know.”

The force and passion in his tanned face scared her. Backing toward the front door, she scrambled outside and toward the car, running from the old Vandermortal house for the second time in her life.

Veronica Wilde
June 3rd, 2007, 02:08 AM
The torch lit garden was a throng of costumed guests. Most wore masks, and she had a difficult time recognizing anyone. Then again, hardly any of them recognized her behind her veil and long dark wig. For that, she was grateful as she made her way to the bar for a drink.

“A Mai Tai, please,” she requested. She sipped it gratefully and leaned against the elm tree. She needed to be alone with her thoughts, at least for a few minutes.

Justin wasn’t dating Meredith. Justin had tried to help get her promoted at the paper. Justin was on her side.

Or he had been.

Recalling last night’s confrontation with Eric, she flushed. Why was she always screwing things up with Justin? She felt she was always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, or making the wrong choice at the right time. What could she say to fix things? Suddenly she realized the obvious: La Traviata was open for business. The house was renovated. There would be no more articles, no more photo essays. No more trips out here to photograph the changes. With the animosity between Justin and Eric, they certainly wouldn’t ever be coming here for dinner.

As of that moment, Justin was out of her life for good.

Two women in schoolgirl outfits passed by, their voices lowered, but she could hear them perfectly. “Is he a hottie or what? He asked for my number, can you believe that?”

“He’s gorgeous, Sue. Boy, play your cards right and this will be your restaurant too.”

They laughed dirtily as they moved off. Tara felt sick. So Justin was collecting numbers, was he? Well, why shouldn’t he? So much for his talk of her being the only girl he had had any feelings for since his wife’s death. With this opening, he officially had his pick of any single woman in town. Hell, it looked like even some of the married women were giving him the eye.

Screw it. She was with Eric. It was time to stop mooning over the enigma that was Justin Bremington and go back where she belonged.

After another Mai Tai, she felt better. She moved into the party, enjoying the masked eyes and anonymous gazes sliding over her body. It was almost nine o’clock, according to someone’s watch. Eric and the others should have already arrived. Where were they? She looked around for a Mae West, but Mandy was nowhere in sight. Nor was Billy, supposedly dressed as a pirate.

The torches staked in the garden cast a sinister glow on the masks grinning or glaring before her, and she tried to focus on finding Eric. A sultan, a sultan – why couldn’t she find a sultan? Then she spotted him in his turban, mask and sash off by the apple tree, paying a waiter for a beer.

She smiled seductively beneath her veil and slipped behind the tree.
When the waiter stepped away, she moved forward and clasped her hands over Eric’s eyes. “Care to ravish a young harem girl?” she whispered sweetly.

Eric laughed dirtily. “Do with me as you will,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask.

Tara led him back to the fields, to the old stone bench by the pond. Under the open sky she felt bold and adventurous – determined to forget about Justin. “You’re so sexy tonight,” she purred. “I’ve never made love to a sultan before.”

Eric laughed and removed her veil. Shaking out her long hair, Tara boldly undid her gauzy halter top and exposed her breasts to the silver light of the moon. Her nipples hardened in the crisp autumn breeze that danced across her skin. “Do you like what you see?”

In answer, Eric eagerly leaned forward and began to fondle her breasts.
There was an urgency in his touch tonight that thrilled her. He was as aroused by the costumes and masks as she was. As his hands began to squeeze and explore her ass, she daringly bent over the bench. She swallowed a sigh as he eased her silk pantaloons down.

“That’s right. Pretend we’re really in a harem,” she whispered. “Tonight I have to obey you and do whatever you want.”

Caressing her inner thighs, Eric carefully parted her legs a bit, then traced light fingers over her vulva. She had shaved her pussy earlier, imagining it as an additional exotic surprise for Eric tonight. Judging by his moan, it was one he appreciated.

As two of his fingers dipped into her soft, moist cleft, she caught her breath. “Faster,” she begged. “You’re a sultan tonight, Eric. Act like one.”

With another dirty laugh, Eric pushed her onto the bench to face him. Boldly she lay back and spread her legs and he began to fondle her swollen pink lips with one hand. Tara squirmed and moaned as he reached for her clitoris and squeezed it gently between his thumb and forefinger, but he seemed a little clumsy tonight, trying out different strokes instead of touching her the way he knew she liked. She wiggled her hips impatiently.

“Eric, quit teasing! Some sultan you are…” Suddenly it occurred to her that he wasn’t saying much. Just then he pushed aside his tunic to take out a short, wide cock that was as hard as the bench she lay on. Quickly he tried to mount her, but she shoved him off.

“Get off me!” Pulling her pantaloons up, she jumped to her feet. Flustered and blushing, she refastened her halter top. “Who the hell are you? Take off the mask!”

June 3rd, 2007, 01:51 PM
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