Prologue
Prologue:
Amy
From behind, a shadow fell around her, growing larger, spreading over the sand. Arms, cool and strong, slid around her waist, fingers linking across her stomach. Delicious tingles raised goose bumps on her skin as dark thrills spiraled deep inside. Who? She tried to turn, to see who caused her stomach to flutter on a wave of sensual awareness. His arms tightened, pulling her back against solid muscle.
Adrenaline bubbled in her blood. His bare chest rubbed her back with every slow, deep breath warming the back of her neck. That skin-tingling friction chased any thought of fear out of her mind. Do not fear me. Both command and plea, those four words whispered in her mind, a slow caress scorching her senses. Nerves sizzled and popped under her skin. His arms squeezed harder as he gathered her closer, nuzzling her neck as he smoothed her hair aside. Tension crackled the air around them. Teeth grazed her skin, a light scrape of exquisite torture. Shivers rippled through her, and her thighs clenched, liquid heat dampening the curls between her legs.
“Who are you?” she whispered, wanting to turn and look at the man who ignited this fiery passion.
One who needs you. That declaration echoed in her mind—persuasive, seductive. His voice flowed over her senses like warm honey. She tilted her head, arching her neck to offer easier access. Teeth grazed her skin once more as firm lips settled over the throbbing vein.
Oh please, she begged though she didn’t know for what.
In time, he murmured in her mind, casting a spell of such deep sensuality her pussy clenched. Hot and moist, his tongue slid over her neck in a streak of fire. Her knees went weak, and she curled her fingers over his arm, leaning harder on him. He supported her easily, both arms wrapped around her, fingers gliding over the dip of her waist. Shivers tore through her, melting any lingering resistance.
Oh, God, I want... “Let me see you,” she moaned and tried to turn.
In time, he whispered, sliding into her mind, merging with her. Teeth grazed, tongue stroked, and fangs penetrated as his mouth clamped over the pulse beating under her skin. Pain shot through her, a blinding flash, and faded into an erotic wave of longing.
Oh, Jesus. She groaned as her head lolled on his shoulder. He suckled, drawing blood from her veins, life from her spirit. I should be horrified, she thought on a languid note. But... Pleasure crashed over her, blinding ecstasy, exploding deep inside as just the simple tug of his mouth on her neck shot her into orgasm.
Vision blurring, she gasped for breath, clutching the hard muscular arm across her stomach. Her heart stuttered and the world darkened around her.
Amy Fletcher stilled her fingers on the keyboard for a long moment, heart racing under the impact of the sensual yet horrifying dream she’d just put in the body of an email. Closing her eyes, she transported back into that vivid scene, pulse pounding as blood roared in her ears.
She opened her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, flexing her fingers before typing. It was so real, so clear—like it happened! Great scene for an erotic horror story. What do you think? She clicked the icon to send the email to Charli and minimized the web browser to the icon tray at the bottom of the screen.
The cursor blinked at the end of the last sentence on the page of text displayed. That quick, an overactive imagination plunged her back into fantasy. It continued, racing through her mind as her fingers clacked on the keyboard, struggling to keep up with her thoughts.
Charli
Charli slipped into bed and closed her eyes. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and into a dream that much quicker. The sun filtered through the trees as she strolled along the edge of the meadow. To her right the small stream gurgled along its path. She took in a deep breath and glanced around. The flowers, herbs, and mushrooms she needed for the new batch of potions and salves grew in abundance here.
She frowned. Some of the villagers had voiced ill feelings toward her of late. Several people had died of illness even with her medicines and care. Ever since the Christian pastor set up his church in the village there’d been whispers against her. Yet, she continued to do her work. A whisper at the edge of her senses brought a smile to her lips. Her heart quickened as he approached.
“There you are.” His deep voice sent a shiver up her spine.
She turned to find him standing in the shadow of several tall trees. “As always. The baker’s wife is due to give birth any day now, and I’m out of my potion to help ease the pain.”
He stepped out into the sunlight, shoulder length hair shining blue black as his emerald eyes sparkled with life. “Should you still be taking care of these people with the way they are talking about you?”
“Don’t worry about me, Love.” She walked toward him, and he met her halfway. He took her in his arms and kissed her with a passion that would make a whore blush. He drew her down into the thick green grass with him, still kissing as they went. “You are so beautiful.” He tugged at the long skirt, sliding it up her thigh, and higher still to caress a buttock. With a groan, he moved to pull at the lacing down the front of her bodice. He loosened the cord, drew open the material further so he could release her breasts from the white under-blouse she wore. He suckled at each breast. She threw her head back and allowed the pleasure his mouth gave her to wash over her. Her fingers wove through his silky, raven hair. “Oh, my love, please. Please make love to me.”
He shifted and she reached for the laces on his breeches. She undid them with deft fingers and slid them down over his ass to free his hard cock. He shoved her skirt up further exposing her to the warm sunlight and positioned himself between her legs. With one swift push, he entered her.
Charli woke with a start. Her breath came heavy and hot. She was soaked in sweat. Her body tingled with the glow of arousal. She sat up, threw the covers back, and stood to make her way to the bathroom. In the dimglow of the nightlight, she turned on the water and splashed the cool liquid on her face.
“What an intense, hot dream. It seemed so real.” She whispered as she grabbed a towel to dry her face with. She glanced at the clock. It was a little after eleven am, so she hadn’t even been asleep an hour. Returning to bed, she slid under the covers and tried to go back to sleep. After laying there for what seemed like hours she slipped back into slumber and another dream.
This time she faced an angry crowd of villagers, all of whom she knew. She had treated each one of them at one time or another. At the front of the furious crowd stood the new priest with a cross and his bible held high.
“Rowan Wolfsong, I hereby pronounce you a witch. For that crime alone we may hang or burn you. It has come to my attention that you have also murdered several people and the animals of these good people. I sentence you to death by burning at the stake.” He took a small vial from his pocket, pulled the cork, and shook the bottle at her. The crowd stepped back in unison. The water splashed her in the face and down the front of her dress. What were these people expecting to happen? Am I to burst into flame right here?
“Priest, she does not smolder as you said she would with holy water. She’s always been good to me and my family. She set my broken leg, she got our little girl through a terrible fever, and two days ago she delivered my fine, healthy son. I don’t like this. We should leave her be. All Rowan has ever done is help us.” The smith, Brutus, looked around at his neighbors. “What about it? Are you going to let this newcomer tell us what to do with one of our own?”
“Shut up, Brutus, she let my finest milk cow die.” One of the farmers spoke up.
“My sweet Mary is dead because of her.” The innkeeper, David, shouted.
“Those that die cannot be helped.” She stepped forward. “I do everything I can, but I am no miracle worker.”
“No, you let some die to gain enough power to keep those you
want to, alive.” The priest spoke again.He stepped forward and then nodded to two huge men she’d never seen before. They grabbed her arms. She struggled and they held on tighter.They dragged her to the town square where a pole and a pyre stood at the ready. The two men held her tight while the priest tied her hands behind her around the pole. Then he bound her by the waist as well.
Tears welled in her eyes and fear bubbled up into her heart. She bowed her head and whispered, “Please, please, goddess, hear me. Do not let me feel pain as the flames eat my flesh. Serve mercy on these people, they are being led astray.”
“What is that you say devil?” The priest grabbed her jaw in his hand and lifted her head, so she had to look at him.
“What is the meaning of this?” His deep, familiar voice carried
across the village square. My love.
However, the familiarity didn’t comfort her. Instead, it sent a chill of dread down her spine.
“Stay out of this. You’ll get yours.” The two big men who’d brought her here grabbed him. He struggled. “Once you see your wife die.We’re going to hang you as a consort to a witch.” The priest grabbed a torch from its holder near the pyre and touched the flame to the dry kindling at the base. The flames licked at the tinder, but grew quickly, reaching her feet and licking up her legs. She screamed in pain and the last thing she heard was him calling out for her.
“No! Rowan!”
Charli bolted upright, gasping with tears flowing down her face. She scrambled from under her covers and raced to the bathroom where she just made it to the toilet before getting sick.That was the most intense dream she’d ever had.
After calming the shakes and settling her tummy, she made her way to the kitchen. It was only five am, but she knew she’d never go back to sleep now. So, she started the coffeepot warming the water for her morning cappuccino, went into the living room and flipped her computer on before returning to her room to put on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie to ward of the chill.
Once she had her cup of cappuccino, she returned to her computer, signed into her email, and opened her instant message so that if Amy was on, she could reach her easily. She doubted Amy was up yet so, she opened a new email and began typing what happened in both dreams and how she felt in them or after them.
