This week’s theme "Are You Sexy" is about those characters who are sexy yet very comfortable about it comes from The Queen, a paranormal story set on The Queen Mary Hotel in Long Beach, California. I stayed aboard this lady for a writer's conference and fell in love with her beauty; I even had my own "experience" in the lobby one day. This story is inspired by all those who still sail the seas aboard the RMS Queen Mary.
“Dr. Masterson, please!” Hanna pleaded once more, relieved when he turned in her direction. At least they’d established communication of a sort but he still didn’t see her. She could tell by the way his eyes darted back and forth searching in the dim light of the room for her. His simple response edged with questions, made her heart flutter with heat. His voice the same familiar sexy tone, thick and rich like honey even though his body looked different. Fascinated, she looked him over carefully, his new honey tanned skin more of a light caramel than the ebony she remembered it being when he’d left the ship to go on leave. His eyes remained the same, though a deep chocolate brown that lit the room sent shivers through her soul.
His movements through the ward were also reminiscent of Bill’s easy lumber. How could it be that Bill and this stranger are one? The man’s slow, easy approach as he took every nuance into consideration was identical to Bill’s caring manner.
I don’t understand why he didn’t say hello to the soldier who smiled up at him and said “Evening, Doc.” Surely he saw, if not heard the poor man. He looked right through him as if he wasn’t there. It was painful to see that he was unaware of the greetings of the wounded soldiers all around her. Soldiers he couldn’t see.
She came up behind him and reached for him, longing to feel the warmth of him on her fingertips again, and gasped when a barrier stopped her short. But why? She wanted to cry to the fates. Because you’re on different planes. Then while she stood there blinking back tears Bill backed away grumbling as he toyed with some black box-like thing. Pay attention to me she wanted to wail.
Glaring at the small black box in his hand her eyes widened when he brought the device closer to his mouth and spoke. “Hello, my name is Cole. I won’t hurt you.” At last, a way to make him hear her. She could have danced a jig if she wasn’t so carried away by his honey sweet tones. His words, dripping sweet and sticky, fueled her memories of the way Bill would talk to her, all slow and sweet. Carrying a hint of a night filled with passion. It made her want to kiss him…if only she could. And what’s this about him calling himself Cole? Then it all came to her— Cole was the vessel and Bill was inside him. That had to be it, much as she rejected spiritualism in her day.
“Cole?” She circled her fiancé, appraising him from head to toe. “Bill is in there—I know it!” Other than his eyes, nothing about this man on the outside indicated Bill Masterson. Where Bill was tall and lanky, this Cole was broad shouldered and muscular. His arms hard and ready for heavy lifting, while Bill’s were made to take care of people. But all that didn’t matter. Bill’s spirit survived inside Cole. She sensed it deep inside the man from the start.
There was only one way to test her theory but was she brave enough? Goodness yes! He was worth risking her heart and her virtue. Somehow she’d have to get him into bed. Once they made love he’d remember her. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. Make him remember the summer they’d spent healing the sick and wounded was the only way to pass them both on to eternity together. . . .
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