An accident tore us apart, but I can’t live without Michael. I’ll find a way to love him, even if it’s the death of me...
Ivy and Michael, her tattoo artist boyfriend, share a timeless, passionate love. Both work from home, so their breaks are spent together, making love and going for erotically-charged motorcycle rides through the countryside. They plan to make their bond official with name tattoos over each other’s hearts, but fate and a reckless driver bring their world to a crashing halt.
At first, Ivy is devastated by grief, but she finds that she can make contact with Michael once more. She can touch him in his phantom form and feel his ghostly caresses. Across the veil of death, their lovemaking is different, but every bit as heated. Their after-death journey is mysterious, romantic, and undeniably erotic.
Ivy and Michael learn that sexual pleasure remains after life ends, and that death doesn't stand in the way of true love.
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Barney looks up from the grass and hisses at the back door. The fur on his back stands up like a brush and he darts through the grass to the safety of the old barn. Startled, I look through the door, but see nothing.
I stop swinging and feel dread tickle down my spine like an ice cube on my skin. “Is someone there?” I whisper.
I squint into the bright afternoon glare. It’s almost like I can make out an outline in the light… A tall form, moving over the lawn towards me. It moves in front of the swing, just a couple of feet from me, and stops. My breath catches in my throat.
The form—just a slight dimness in the shape of a body, really—eases onto the swing beside me. The swing starts to move.
I feel panic start to bubble inside me and rise to my throat. I want to scream, but who will hear me? The swing glides gently, to and fro, and I remain frozen, my pulse racing. Around me, the yard is idyllic and peaceful. A monarch butterfly alights on a spiky purple thistle and a bluebird warbles up in the tulip poplar. I lean towards the shape beside me. It shimmers darkly in the bright light, like a shadow moving beneath the surface of sparkling water. Long seconds pass, and my curiosity overcomes my fear. I reach out and touch its head with my fingertips. It feels cool and just—barely—resistant, as though I were dipping my fingers into a bowl of frothy whipped cream.
The swing stops moving. The form leans back from my touch suddenly and then stands abruptly from the seat. It moves towards me slowly, as though it were trying to see me, and then hurries into the house.
Barney comes barrelling out of the barn and leaps onto the swing beside me, purring like a motorboat. I stroke his powerful back, enjoying his warm solidity after the weird, otherworldly coolness of my previous swing companion. Realisation dawns on me, slowly but surely. For the first time since the accident, I feel hope.
I believe that dim form was Michael’s ghost. I think that he was barely able to see and feel me, just as I was barely able to see and touch him. The little spark of hope fans quickly, fed by my desperation and longing, into a blaze of optimism. Maybe he’s not gone forever! Maybe I can reach him, somehow, wherever he is now.
I love to read and write erotic romance, fantasy, and sci-fi because of the escape factor: I want to leave the ordinary and travel somewhere exotic, unusual, and sexually-charged in a book. My characters are thrust into unpredictable situations, and they respond with humor, open-mindedness, and loads of scorching passion. I hope you enjoy escaping with me into the sultry world of erotic romance.