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The Erotic Ghost

By Temple Madison


Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.


Copyright 2018 Temple Madison

ISBN 9781634866569

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.


WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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The Erotic Ghost

By Temple Madison

Chapter 1

His hot breath smelled of warm whiskey.

His kisses thrilled her, and his dark midnight eyes glittered, adding to the mystery of a dark room and flickering candles. Had it been only two months since he had stopped her for speeding?

She thought back to the day she saw him walk up to her car. Dark uniform, motorcycle, the wind blowing his long, sexy hair, jeez, he must have been ten feet tall. And how he filled out that uniform. As they talked one thing led to another, a little flirting followed by an enticing proposition, and before she knew it she had a date.

Now, as he looked down at her with those sinful, midnight eyes, she almost moaned out loud.

“Did you enjoy the Pink Lady?” Zack’s voice had the breathy sound of someone who was getting his cock deliciously handled.

“Sure did,” she whispered. “You really spent a bundle there, Zack. Why wouldn’t you let me help?”

“Hell, Dana, I can afford it. I’m a New York City cop, remember? Sure, my paycheck sucks, but being part of a secret society, you’d be surprised how many favors we get just for the hell of it. It’s a ‘You scratch my back, I scratch yours kind of thing. Works real good.”

“Sounds shady to me.”

“Well, we could have gone to Weird Willie’s for a hotdog. Would that have made you happy?”

“Hey,” she whispered seductively. “Want me to eat you?”

“I like your hand better, plus you don’t get a lipstick ring around my dick.”

“I thought you liked my lipstick rings,” she teased while looking at him with her sexy, slumberous eyes.

“To hell with lipstick rings, I’m hungry for some red-headed cunt.”

He rolled her over and gave her a long, hot kiss while passionately burying himself inside her.

The invasion was like an electric charge. His rock-hard cock made her jerk as it rubbed against her over-sensitive clit. The sensation sent her climbing into heaven—climbing so fast, she couldn’t resist clinging to him while rolling her hips loosely.

As he nudged in deeper and deeper, her cunt dripped over him, keeping him wet and slick as he pounded in and out of her. Her legs widened involuntarily and her back arched, offering him her breasts. She quivered as his warm lips nibbled her neck first, before making a moist trail as they moved down to her nipples. The licking and sucking of his wicked tongue caused several lusty moans to come sliding out of her throat and into the dimly lit bedroom.

God, she was ravenous! Her fingernails dug into his back as the wild rhythm of their sex built fire after fire between her legs. While she was caught up in this red-hot haze, all at once a sound rang in her ears. It came just at the zenith, the apex, the silver height of her orgasm, making it seem far away until she floated back down to earth and heard the jarring sound next to her bed.

Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnnnggggg!

Her eyes flew open. She immediately felt Zack’s moist lips whispering next to her ear. “Let it ring, babe, just let it ring.”

She wanted to, God how she wanted to, but there was something about a ringing phone she couldn’t ignore. It beckoned her with every ring. Waiting as long as she could, she finally pushed Zack away and reached for it.

“Damn!” he growled as he rolled away.

“Hello!” she almost shouted into the receiver.

“Dana, thank God you’re there. Being Friday night, I was sure you’d be out.”

“Mr. Sherman!” She suddenly felt naked, and quickly reached for a sheet and wrapped it around her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in one hell of a pickle, that’s what’s wrong. I just got out of an all-day meeting with Masters and Ford.”

“Those bastards from the cosmetics firm? Why did they keep you so long?” She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “My God, it must be—what—after ten there.”

“Ten twenty-two to be exact. I just got back to my hotel room. I gave them everything I had, and they still turned me down. I’ve managed to put them off until tomorrow. They say if they don’t see something they like by noon, they’re going with another advertising agency. I’m sorry, Dana, but you’re going to have to take the first flight out to San Francisco.”

“Fly all the way to San Francisco? Why can’t I give you the information over the phone? I have my brief—”

“I’m afraid not, Dana. These guys won’t be satisfied with a few statistics. You’ll have to do your whole presentation from beginning to end. You know, pictures, diagrams. Hell, give them a graph full of pretty colors and they’ll be as happy as a couple of kids in kindergarten. Ideas, they’re not buying. A big fat guarantee is what they want. Goddamned bloodsuckers, if it wasn’t such a big account, I’d tell them where to stick it.”

“You mean do the presentation myself? Sir, I can’t…”

“Don’t bother with a taxi. I’m staying at the Carlton Ritz. Call me when you get here and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“But what about the office? Who’ll run it?”

“Roland can handle things.”

“Mr. Sherman.…”

“Dana, don’t screw this up. You know cosmetics, and this is a multi-million-dollar account.”

“I can’t do this. I’ve never—I mean, I’ve only assisted before.”

“Dana, this is exactly what you’ve been training for. Hell, I’ll be there with you to give you all the support you need. Remember when you showed up in my office right out of college? I kept my eye on you and I wasn’t disappointed. The day I gave you that corner office was the best decision I ever made.”

“Well, I…”

“We make a good team, Dana. Men’s stuff I can handle, but this is cosmetics. Who the hell knows more about that than a woman? After all, Masters and Ford Cosmetics is the biggest in the business. Their Midnight Pleasure line is their newest baby, and they want to launch it big. Ad campaigns, TV commercials, the whole nine yards. If you can put this one in our pockets, it could mean a big fat bonus for you, possibly a promotion. How does a partnership sound? All you have to do is drop this juicy account in our laps.”

She gulped. “Yes, sir.” After slamming the phone down, she leaped up and ran around the room packing while still dressed in her seductive outfit of slit panties and spider-web hose.

Zack sat up. “What the hell are you doing?”

“That was my boss. I’ve got to get to San Francisco pronto!”

“Oh, God, not again.” Finally getting up, he snatched at his clothes with angry movements, and began to dress.

“I’m really sorry, Zack, but this could mean my job.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Only a few days, as far as I know.”

“Dana—hell, this job of yours is driving me crazy. We never have any time together anymore.”

“Now is not the time, Zack,” she called out before she stepped into a steaming shower.

“It’s my own damned fault,” he muttered, “I never should have got myself mixed up with a brainy female. From now on, it’s empty heads and big boobs.”

* * * *

Chapter 2

I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date!

The words from her favorite fairytale screamed through her head as her car skidded and rocked down the road. Glancing away from the oncoming cars to catch her image in her rearview mirror, she smacked her lips together and fluffed her naturally red hair to dry it. Looking at it, she remembered Zack’s words.

To hell with lipstick rings. I’m hungry for some red-headed cunt.

Damp like it was, the color was muted and dark, but when the sun shone on it, she had been told it gleamed as if it were on fire. She patted it with approval and smiled at the reflection in the mirror. Sure, she knew it wasn’t fun having a rendezvous suddenly interrupted, but Zack would have to understand she had certain responsibilities. It seemed funny, though. For years women were the ones left alone and lonely. Thank God times had changed, and women could give the men in their lives a great big taste of their own medicine.

Now, looking around in the dark, she happened to notice a lonely, vacant road that she knew to be a direct shot to the airport, and turned into it at the last moment. She didn’t see how she had any choice. It was getting close to two now, and she had no time to waste. To make her boss happy, she’d scrambled around like a crazy person, and after throwing a few essentials into her bag, she hurried out to her car with no makeup on, and her hair wet from a shower. Looking ahead, the vacant road looked endless, so she thought it safe enough to take a quick look into her mirror once again while fluffing her hair to hurry the drying process. When her gaze shifted back to the road ahead, her eyes widened in fright.

The sky was lit up with what looked like a sizzling bolt of lightning dropping from the sky and stabbing the road in front of her. She pumped on her brakes but couldn’t stop until she found herself enclosed in the brilliance, and her car falling forward into what felt like a deep hole. She bounced around like a rubber ball, her seatbelt the only thing keeping her from being thrown from the car. The last thing she remembered before darkness overcame her was the hiss and sizzle of a dying fire.

* * * *

She lay quietly in darkness, a mysterious hush hanging heavy in the night, a soft, withering wind soughing hauntingly through the treetops. The sound was high and lonely—out of tune.

It was calling her, urging her to follow it out of the darkness. She tried to resist, but like a ringing phone, it was insistent, and she found herself reaching for it. The pain was raw, unmerciful. It settled there, hitting again and again like a fisted hand. Her lashes began a soft flutter, and she slowly moved to lift her head.

She didn’t know how badly she was hurt, but it seemed every move she made brought a new ache to life. She moved slowly until she managed to work herself free of the mangled car where she was faced with spinning wheels, a smoking engine, and darkness. As near as she could tell, she had landed in a hole the lightning had made in the road. She moved to grab her bag from her car and winced at the aches and pains of a badly bruised body.

Pulling her cell phone from a dark corner of her bag, she began dialing Zack’s number. Her fingers did a swift click, click, click, only to realize she wasn’t getting a signal. She shook, pounded, and glared at the phone until she realized the batteries had picked this precise moment to run out of juice. And if that wasn’t enough, the excruciating pain in her shoulder had spread and turned into one gigantic headache. She was still looking the damage over when she happened to glance at the floor of her car’s front seat and saw where her romance novel had landed.

She read the book every chance she got, hating each and every time she was pulled away from her erotic suspense. Just a few days before she’d managed to get a few days off, and was just settling down with her book, a Coke, and a big bag of potato chips when her boss called to inform her he was just about to leave for California on a multi-million dollar deal, and since she was familiar with the product, he didn’t want anyone else but her to take care of the office.

Too bad she would probably miss her plane and be fired, but—well, that’s the way things had gone today, so she stuffed the book deep into her bag where she saw her dead, useless cell phone taking up valuable space.

God, how she wished she had taken the time to recharge the batteries before making this long trip. Anyone else would have taken care of it immediately. Your fucking signal gets low, you recharge. Oh no, not her. That would be way too organized, and no one could ever accuse her of anything so sensible.

Lifting her head, she looked into the darkness surrounding her. Anxious to find her way out of this hell, she pushed herself away from her car and began stumbling down the dark road to the nearest phone. Oh, God, she thought when she looked down at her new wedgies that were at least five inches high. Another stupid move. Well hell, who knew she’d be clomping down a deserted road in heels high enough to send her into orbit?

“What else can happen?” she mumbled as she looked up into the sky where dark clouds threatened. “Oh, no,” she moaned, slipping a hand up over her eyes to hide the awful sight. “I had to ask.” Suddenly, through her fingers she saw something in the distance and quickly lowered her hand.

Squinting, she could barely make out a looming old structure that reminded her of a page out of her novel. It was too tempting to pass up, so she scrambled through her bag, quickly dragging the paperback out one more time. More than a little curious, she glanced down at the cover, noticing the mansion behind the handsome hero and heroine, and back at the dark old mansion ahead of her. The resemblance was uncanny, as if the novel had come to life before her eyes.

“Damn, I need a rest,” she whispered, while dropping the novel back into her large bag. “Apparently, two o’clock in the morning is not the best time to find yourself on a dark road without wheels. Your imagination can play all kinds of tricks on you.”

With that thought in mind, she had no choice but to make her way toward the dark, gothic-type structure while chills crawled up and down her arms as she noticed it was heavily laden with gables, towers, and steeples and imbedded weather stains.

As she walked, she glanced around, seeing nothing for miles, except dark trees bending in the wind, and wildly fluttering shrubs. Realizing this foreboding, old mansion was her only chance to get help, she stepped hesitantly past the entrance and onto a wide walkway. It was flanked by trees with crackling leaves quivering in the stiff breeze. She was sure she could hear a faint whisper, as if the trembling trees were talking to each other.

“What the hell is an old English mansion doing way out here?” she murmured. It looked incredibly unreal, illusory, a shimmering image that seemed to be floating.

Enter at your own risk, it seemed to be saying.

As if to encourage this eerie message, suddenly, a corner of the distant sky lit up in heavenly brilliance, drawing her eyes upward to the low churning clouds and grumbling thunder. She had just stepped up on the stone porch when a blast of wind brought with it the pungent odor of rain and a loud clap of thunder. In seconds, a deluge began, and she stood trapped beneath the overhang, looking at a curtain of rain. It was so heavy, it almost blinded her to the lawn beyond. From behind her, she heard an eerie squeak and immediately whirled around.

A man stood there, almost as insubstantial as the late night gloom surrounding him. She saw the steely glitter of his eyes coming from within a deep shadow draping his head and shoulders like a shroud. When he spoke, his words were slow, his chilling rasp out of place anywhere—except in her nightmares.

* * * *

Chapter 3

“May I help you?” the man asked, a scowl creasing his face as his gaze raked her from head to toe.

“I-I’m looking—” Her words faltered as the dark figure suddenly separated from the low-hanging shadow. With a trembling hand pressing her mouth, she muffled a gasp. What little light there was exposed merciless lines of age carved into his face. His thin mouth lay in a dry, snake-like twist, his cold, glittering eyes were surrounded by a web of wrinkles, giving him a constant scowl. He appeared to be dressed all in black and the gray pallor of his face was similar to some bloodless creature she’d seen all too often in horror movies.

She recoiled from the sight of this gray, death-like individual, her trembling voice reduced to little more than a whisper. “—for a phone. The bat—” She hesitated, trying to get control of her trembling voice. “The batteries are dead. I wonder if—” Her gaze shifted and she looked past him, the heavy silence and dim lighting inside reminding her of a funeral parlor. “—if I could use the telephone. I had an accident. My car is in a…well, sort of a…it’s difficult to explain. A lightning…” While trying to find the words, her gaze happened to drift up to his face, which was full of frowning uncertainty, as if he were trying to understand a foreign language. She finally gave up and sighed heavily. “Maybe I should talk to—well, whoever owns this place.”

“I am afraid the Master is not receiving at the present time. He is in mourning. Since you do seem to be in something of a fix, perhaps I can be of some assistance.” He stepped back. “Would you like to come in?”

Surprised at his sudden change in tone, she made a hesitant step across the threshold when something happened. She couldn’t tell exactly what it was. A change of some kind seemed to have taken place in the atmosphere. It seemed close, confining, sort of a prim, stiff, genteel kind of feeling.

She looked around at the combination of red walls, dark shining wood, and red carpet covering each step of the wide, formal staircase. It was as if she’d stepped into a different century. Oil lamps were used instead of electric lights, and some strange odor hung in the air, reminding her of her grandmother’s old house.

The elusive fear that had only nudged her before now burst into full bloom, and she turned quickly to leave. To her surprise, the old man she presumed to be a butler was closing the door. She had gotten only a glimpse of the outside, but gone were the rain, the trees, and the vacant road, and in their place was a street that resembled a foggy night in old England.

The house was surrounded by a tall spiked fence, there were old lamp posts that cast circles of golden light along the curbs, and she could see a noisy, wobbling carriage as it slowly made its way along a wet cobblestone street.

My God, what’s going on?

She lunged for the door and tried to open it. When it wouldn’t budge, she turned to the butler. “The door, it seems to be stuck. I think I…”

The man looked at her with worried eyes. “Are you all right?”

She nodded slightly, but she knew she wasn’t all right at all. She couldn’t seem to think. Her mind was muddled, confused. Turning away from the door slowly, she looked up at the strange décor that told her she had somehow landed in a different century.

The room had a kind of hellish elegance—so many leaping flames from so many fireplaces. There were cold spots—hot spots—God-awful heat. Hadn’t these people heard of central heat and air? Electric lights? All at once, the scene before her began to undulate, and her eyes closed. She pressed her hand against her head, trying to fight the dizziness—a dizziness that sent the garish room to spinning. The red color ran together while the fire in the fireplace stretched, making the room resemble a flame-ridden cave. Reaching out for something to hold on to, she shook her head, her mind full of black snakes that coiled and stretched until they obliterated reality. Finally, everything went black, and her weak body crumpled to the floor.

“Oh, my word,” the butler said, looking down at her as if he didn’t quite know what to do. Finally, with desperation nipping at his heels, he shouted toward the back of the mansion for help. A somber looking creature in a gray dress straggled in, her face turning to shock when she saw the woman on the floor.

“Wha’ ‘appn’d, guv’nor?”

“The poor woman was in an accident from what she said, and passed out. I should think that would be obvious. Here, now, help me get her to the couch.” They struggled, getting her into the study and onto the couch. “Put a wet cloth on her head. I will summon the Master.”

* * * *

From within the dim regions of a kingdom called The Isle of Tranquility, a man stood before a crowned figure seated upon a throne. The Mighty Zeus was clothed in gold and purple raiment, and the crown on his head was rich in precious metals and jewels. The Isle of Tranquility is only one kingdom within Olympus—a floating city high in the sky. Zeus was the supreme ruler of this and all the other kingdoms that existed on Olympus. Although he had armies, he carried a thunderbolt which he hurled at those who displeased him.

“You have done well, my son. Without you there, I am afraid the battle would not have been won.”

“I am glad I could be of service, Sire.”

A frown appeared on the bearded man’s face. “Franz, I was terribly sorry to hear of your dear mother’s death. Out of respect for you, I will try not to call on you again until your mourning period is over.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

Just then, The Pink Child walked in. “Sire, I have a message for The Magician.”

“You have my permission to give it to him.”

“Thank you, Sire,” she said with a slight bow, and turned to hand the scroll to Franz.

The Mighty Zeus nodded to The Pink Child. “You have done well. You may take your leave now and go to The Land of Play.”

“Yes, Sire!” she said with a big smile.

Franz was about to unroll the scroll when the Mighty Zeus said, “Don’t open it yet, Franz.” With a gentle rustling of his tunic, he rose from his throne. “I would have you walk with me. We need to talk.”

“Is something troubling you, Sire? Have I…?”

“No, my son, you have done nothing, but yes, something is troubling me.” He was deep in thought as he led Franz through a wide arch leading to a beautifully manicured garden.

From there, they strolled down many paths in companionable silence until they came to the Cathedral of the Rose. This was a sacred place where blood-red roses grew among the majestic ruins. They were thought to contain the blood of Christ. The shredded walls were covered with these roses, forming a kind of arbor in which The Sealed Books were kept.

Franz’s eyes scanned the Cathedral as if he’d never seen it before. “Why did you bring me here?”

“In truth, I am not sure. And yet…” He looked over at Franz. “Franz, you are very special to me. Not only because of your extraordinary powers, but because I have grown very fond of you. I am aware of how you came to be one of us, however, I was hoping in spite of it, you might eventually come to feel at home here.” He gave Franz a long and reflective look, and then lowered his head sadly. “But I know it is not what you want, and I cannot continue to ask you to be loyal to a destiny you had forced upon you.”

“Mighty One, I.…”

“No need to say anything, Franz. I realize how torn you are between these two worlds. Ties, no matter how old, are hard to break, I imagine.”

“You said you had something…”

“Yes. I’m getting to that. It’s just very difficult…” His words faded as he looked out at the sea of blood-red roses, and after a few moments of thoughtful silence, he continued speaking. “Because of a certain state of affairs that I am not at liberty to divulge, Olympus is in a state of flux, and it involves you.” He looked down and indicated toward the scroll Franz held in his hand. “You have been summoned to your household. Being all-knowing, I am aware of what awaits you there, and it will be very traumatic for you. The Book of Fates has recorded the outcome and based upon that they have sanctioned a reward for you. I could take you into the Cathedral and show you what they have recorded, and assure your triumph, but sadly I cannot do that because then it wouldn’t be a true test. Although I am tempted, I cannot play favoritism, Franz. Putting his hand on Franz’s shoulder and squeezing, he said with a stab of emotion, “My son, it would hurt me deeply to see the glowing words of triumph that I know are recorded there, changed to those of defeat.”

“Mighty One, I know it is not your intent, but you are planting fear in my heart.”

“No, do not be fearful, my son. However, you must know this. I will be at The Windows of the World, watching, and when the moment comes that tells me what I need to know, you will get your reward, or with a wave of my scepter, be doomed to rule the Tarot Card for all eternity.”

“But sire…wouldn’t that mean…?”

“For you it would mean that all ties to the physical world will be broken, that the door back to your world will be locked. When that happens, and you find yourself on one side, or the other, I can only hope it will be the side that will bring you the most happiness.”

“Sire, why has this happened?”

“The Fates have decreed it.”

“Sire…”

Zeus put his hand up to silence him. “Their reasons are their own, my son. Reasons they haven’t even shared with me.”

With deep concern on his face, and slow, uncertain movements, Franz unrolled the scroll. In only a few thrashing heartbeats, he looked up at the Mighty Zeus. “You are right, Sire. I have been summoned to my household.”

“You may go, but remember what I told you, and act accordingly.”

Without speaking, Franz stepped back, bowed low, and turned.

The Mighty One watched as the impressive figure of The Magician walked down the lane, getting lost in The Mists of Time. When Franz came to The Point of Departure, he descended a long staircase and slowly disappeared into an atmosphere of clouds and mist.

* * * *

Chapter 4

The devoted butler stood waiting, his eyes trained upon a painting that hung over the fireplace that served as the doorway to another world. When he saw a glittering mist exude from it, he straightened himself and stood at attention until the faint glow formed and took on substance.


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