Masque
by Lexi Post
Rena Mills
plans to turn an abandoned abbey into a haunted bed-and-breakfast to prove she
can be successful without her ex-fiancé. What she finds inside is Synn
MacAllistair, the distinguished, self-proclaimed Ghost Keeper. Her dreams soon
fill with sexual cravings for him. But are they dreams?
Synn, born
in 1828, is determined to free the souls of the resident spirits, blaming
himself for bringing the Red Death that killed them. When Rena steps into the
old Pleasure Palace, he’s sure he can take her through the after-midnight
Pleasure Rooms and stoke her passion to complete the Masque so the souls can
cross over. Her innocent fire makes him crave more, but it’s far too late for
him.
As Rena
begins her erotic journey, her heart becomes more involved with every sensual
caress until she discovers by completing the Masque she would lose her ghosts.
Synn’s betrayal wars with her compassion for her ghostly friends. Torn, she
must make a choice between her financial security and freeing seventy-three
trapped souls. Either way, she could lose her Synn.
Chapter One
Cape Breton, Nova Scotia
People. Living, breathing
people.
Synn MacAllistair grasped the
embrasure of the parapet, his heart thudding as he stared at the vehicle
crossing the stone bridge over the moat. It came to a stop at Ashton Abbey’s
massive gate.
He waited. The great iron grille,
chained and padlocked against intruders, would be considered a significant
deterrent to entering. Open it. Damn it,
open it!
The vehicle remained stationary.
No one exited the large red monstrosity.
Impatiently, he pushed away his
hair as the breeze whipped it across his view. What were they waiting for? If
they needed an axe to break the chain, he’d gladly provide them with one.
Another smaller vehicle rolling
parallel to the west wall caught his attention. It crossed the bridge and
parked behind the larger one. More people?
A man stepped from the small
conveyance and shuffled to the gate. Synn leaned farther over the battlement,
anxious to see if their time had come. The joyful sound of clanking chains
floated up to him on the breeze.
Finally! About bloody time. He swallowed hard to keep the yell of
triumph from escaping his throat. No need to scare their new guests.
The man below hurried back to
his transport and, without hesitation, backed across the bridge and left faster
than he’d arrived.
Synn peered down at the red
vehicle, still as a brick, its black windows making it impossible to see
inside. A door opened and a woman burst onto the cobblestone entrance. She bent
over and spoke to someone else still inside. Her blonde hair hid her face, but
her ass, covered in men’s trousers, was small, her legs lanky. A woman? A woman
dared enter a haunted abbey? He tried to grasp the concept.
His plan was to convince a man to enjoy the pleasures of the
flesh, but there had to be a man to convince…unless a couple entered the Abbey.
Couples enjoyed the Pleasure Rooms as well. If he could persuade a couple to
participate in the Masque then his companions could still be freed.
Peering hard, he watched and waited. After what seemed
another decade, a door on the other side of the red contraption opened. He held
his breath, willing the occupant to have broad shoulders, a beard, anything to
indicate a man.
A long, slender leg stretched out, a black high-heel shoe of
delicate design at its end, and a feminine hand grasped the side, but remained
stationary.
He growled with frustration. “Bloody
hell. What am I supposed to do with two women?” He hadn’t expected women. The
Abbey overflowed with spirits. Only men should dare enter. How were blasted
women going to help him? He paced away from the wall, but quickly returned.
Could there be more people inside the vehicle?
He waited, his patience long
gone, not that he ever had much, but damn, it’d been a hundred and fifty years.
That would strain the patience of an archangel, something he definitely was
not.
He glared as the leg moved and
within a moment’s breath, the woman unfolded herself from the conveyance.
Synn stared, frozen in time for
once, drinking in a beauty far surpassing any painted Aphrodite he’d ever gazed
upon. Her long, wavy brown hair captured the sun, shining like fine brandy. Her
figure, as lush as any Greek goddess, swayed sensuously in her short dress. Her
arms were bare and the smallest of noses held her dark glasses in place. He
stepped back, away from the crenellation, his heart racing, his mind whirling
with ideas.
He paced the length of the wall.
A vision was about to enter his
stone prison. A woman fit to be worshiped with
every salacious touch he’d ever learned. His cock hardened beneath his
pantaloons. Amazed, he stopped and looked down at it. After so many years of
having no needs—for food, for sleep, for relieving himself—the last he’d
expected to feel was the need for a woman. He shook his head. It defied logic.
But if his body could respond, then he could participate, guide a woman through
the Masque.
The creaking hinges of the gate
brought him back to the wall to see the backs of the two women entering the
Abbey courtyard. Two women. Vivid memories of his happier days with the prince caught
him by surprise and gave him hope. As he strode across the wall-walk and down
the stone staircase, his mind raced with possibilities. One after another they
were discarded as he floated to the landing on the second floor. But a new plan
began to form as the great pine doors opened.
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To celebrate the anniversary of Masque and it being available on all retailer sites, I'm giving away hand-decorated Venetian masks all month. For a chance win this mask, (2 will be given away) check out the rafflecopter below. Good luck!
Always, Lexi
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Where did this idea come from? It came from a classic Edgar Allan Poe story called "The Masque of the Red Death." Because I write romance inspired by the classics, I just had to make the Red Death the hero who lived at the time of Poe's story and introduce him to a lovely woman from present day.
