Sneak Peek Sunday!

It’s Sneak Peek Sunday!

Setting the Stage:
In this scene, Jason lies beside the sleeping Lanie and remembers the duplicity of his wife. Desiring to return to the world in which he lived, he follows Lanie’s synapses and rides her dreams to the point where they last were together in his time.

The preposterous lie she’d told him on their wedding night as she cried and begged her shy sensibilities to keep his attentions at bay all but melted away after his death. He pushed the image  of his merry widow and her lover from his mind. How intimate that beautiful lying mouth had been… He’d lived as a monk with his shy wife, while she enjoyed her carnal feast with such abandon that no one could doubt the act had happened many times before.

Confused as to how he could have been so blind, he’d studied the pair, looking for the shy, delicate angel his wife pretended to be and finding instead the practiced whore. The whole thing, their lies and his ignorance, sickened him. Unable to stomach more, he hid himself away in the cupola for one hundred years of solitude and stayed there until one night when he’d heard lonely Margaret cry.

Lanie shifted positions, her movement redirecting his dark thoughts. This kind and gentle creature in his arms, this beauty with her hot blood coursing through her veins, was as different from Cathy as night was from day. With her in his arms he almost felt like a flesh-and-blood man again. Breathing the mingled perfume of soap and a woman’s scent, his essence plied her synapse as he whispered at her ear, “Dream, sweetheart, dream of me again.” And she did, right where the last had left off.

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“I’ll let Mrs. Boatwright know to set another plate,” Cathy told them then turned on her heel and hurried away.

Jason watched her go knowing she desired everything to be perfect for her lover’s arrival. Recalling the moment from his past, he  knew the dream had returned to where it ended last. Lanie was standing at his side, so he offered his arm. She reached for her doctor’s bag. Taking it from her hand, he said, “Come, I’ll send for your other bags.”

Lanie hooked her arm through his and felt the firm muscle under the cloth of his sleeve. How strange, she thought, a moment ago I only thought him a handsome man, now I feel lightheaded at his touch as if he and I were… Her cheeks warmed, the telltale heat signaling a blush. How could such images even come to her mind? She knew no man intimately.

Jason felt her warm on his arm, almost as warm as when she slept.

Here’s the story

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