The Erotic Ghost by Jovana

Author:Jovana [Madison, Temple]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2018-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

That night. That dark, foreboding, scary night as she left the dining room, she climbed the staircase with one thing on her mind. The dreaded romance novel that Thorn sneered at. This time when she read it, it wouldn’t be for pleasure, but to find out if she was losing her mind.

The book would tell her all about the hero. Who and where he was, and why he was so elusive. However, when she went to find it, strangely it had vanished along with her bag and everything in it.

Brushes, combs, makeup, her dead cell phone, they were all gone! Had someone taken it? No, she thought, a sense of dread filling her. It’s missing because it isn’t in the story.

Gradually, she would become more and more ensnared in the story. Soon even her clothes would disappear from her back, her memories washed away. She wondered where the book was, drifting in some black void, or maybe its pages blew in the stiff wind as it lay on the floor of her car.

If she had doubted before, now she was sure. She was being held captive in a dark dream from which there was no escape—a dream that had somehow been infused with an old song that couldn’t have been popular now. She couldn’t remember the title but could hear the fluid notes rising and falling in her head, along with words that were a musical depiction of the act of sex. Haunting, yet arousing, and it would continue to haunt her until the last scene.

Until her death!

The only thing left was to confront Sarafina. Was Thorn right? Did the ghost actually haunt the music room and float along the grand staircase between the hours of midnight and three? And if she did, could she speak to her? Make her understand? It was madness, but she was desperate. Maybe she would see her tonight. She would wait, listen for the music.

* * * *

And then it came, and her lids flew open at an awesome sound.

The swells, the arpeggios, the gifted fingers building to a dramatic crescendo. Chiming clocks from all over the mansion summoned her. The sounds were mixed. They called to her with everything from light tinkling chimes to deep bongs, urging her to awaken. And when their chimes ended, the music soared forth, reverberating around the cavernous mansion. Lunging up from the bed, she ran down the hall to the grand staircase, her bare feet kicking beneath her light, feathery gown, the silver rays of the moonlight shining through the windows, casting glittering designs on the floor, her pale, iridescent presence looking as much like a ghost as Sarafina.

As she stepped into the music room, she saw the dark and beautiful Sarafina who was spotlighted by the moon, a glistening iridescence in the night. She wore a white shroud that danced lightly around her while she sat at the piano, her dark head lowered over the keys, her body swaying to the music.

A breeze floated in through the French doors that stood open, the white gossamer curtains billowing in the wind.

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