Romantic Friday Writers__A Ghost's Plea

Romantic Friday Writers is a blog fest every Friday. Many thanks to L'Aussie and Francine Howarth for creating this fun event, showcasing the work of many fine writers. Click on the icon at the end of my post to check out others participating today or join the blog fest. A winner is awarded the recognition of being this week's featured author.

Today's challenge keeps to the ghoulish holiday of Samhain soon approaching. The theme is 'Haunting' in 400 words or less.This scene is from my short story, Sea Glass and Sand Memories. Kate is a young woman vacationing at a resort on Lake Michigan, where she mets Anson, a handsome but strange man. Here he reveals his true identity to her.

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       “My soul is very real, but I am a ghost. Few can see me. Only those whose soul connects to mine.”
       “Mags? Does she see you?”
       “Yes.” Anson lowered his head. “I am her dead son.”
       “Zandra can see you, certainly, but why?”
       “She is a witch and tricked me. Her magic holds me hostage to serve as her boyfriend, lover, and servant. She is cruel and mistreats me. I loathe her, but am trapped. I cannot leave the property. Mom tolerates her in order to have me near.” He clenched his fists.
       “To see me possess the amulet on that umbrella’s chain enraged her. What does it indicate?”
       “It’s one of my only means of magic. It should allow me to be welcome to enter the locked quarters of whom-ever possesses it. But, she cast a spell, limiting its power to within the walls of this building.”
        Understanding swept through my mind and I sat upright. “That’s why the plumbing in the room I booked in the main house suddenly broke, even though the fittings were brand new. You did that to make sure I stayed in this apartment. Right?”
        “Yes, that’s true.”
        “Why?”
        “I need you to help me break her black magic so I can be free. Will you help me, Kate?”
        “Umm, I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’m shocked. Let me think.”
        “Of course. Sleep on it for the rest of the night. We can talk more tomorrow.” He picked up my hand. His skin felt cooler than mine. “Thank you for listening.”
        I gazed into his dark eyes and felt my soul swimming. He was right; we were connected.
        He leaned closer and with his other hand cradled my head.
        I felt electricity as his lips approached mine. In his kiss I saw horrors, the tragedy of his death, drowning on this coast after he swam into a rip current. Zandra stood on the dock, life preserver in hand, laughing. Mags ran out, screaming, but too late. She jumped into the surf. Her ankle broke as the tide slapped her against the rocks; it never healed right and gave her that limp. I pulled away, unable to view more. “No more, please.”
       “I promise all our kisses will be happy ones from this moment on.” He smiled.
       As he vanished I saw a tear roll down his cheek, and my throat clenched in pain.

WC =401

NCCO/No Critiques, Comments Only

~ ~ ~ Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. She is the author of the novel, TEARS ON A TRANQUIL LAKE, the first in a trilogy. Part two, TORTUGA TREASURE is contracted for release in January, 2012. Look for her first of an epic fantasy romance series, SEEKING A SCRIBE: ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS ONE, to be available early 2012.