GENRE: Gay Paranormal Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 16,086 words
RATING:

Horror author Curtis Macintyre has recently rented an apartment in an historical building in San Francisco. But the apartment comes with more than just old charm. It also comes with the spirit of Aaron Carmichael, a man murdered five years before.

After Curtis visits a medium, Aaron’s spirit comes to him for help in finding peace since he’s lost between two worlds, the living and the afterlife. When Curtis decides to visit Aaron’s boyfriend, Robbie Henley, a beautiful hairdresser, Aaron comes along ... inside Curtis.

Now with Robbie’s help, it’s up to Curtis to find out what happened to Aaron so he can finally have peace. And maybe, together, Curtis and Robbie can find their own happily ever after.

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

It was so strange standing here in what used to be his apartment again. For so long he'd been ... Well, Aaron didn't know exactly what he'd been. A presence? Wanting to exist with the world but unable to do so.

But now, he was visible. At least to the man who now occupied his apartment. It had changed quite a bit since Aaron had lived there. The walls were a bright white now. They'd been beige in the three years it had been his home. Carpet no longer adorned the floors, not surprising he guessed considering the big stain he'd left there. It had been replaced by beautiful mahogany wooden floors.

"I won't harm you, Curtis," he said softly since the man had not moved since he'd noticed Aaron standing in his apartment. "Surely you know that by now."

"How-how are you here? Now, like this." Curtis gestured wildly with his hands.

In a lot of ways, Curtis reminded Aaron of himself. They were similar physically both with dark hair and tall with a muscular but slim build. Both were what would be called classically handsome. Both gay. Aaron knew that based on Curtis bringing home a guy a few times to have sex with.

"I don't know, really. While you were gone I felt different. Different than I have for ... I don't know how long it's been," he admitted. How long had he been lost between?

"Five years." Curtis moved away from his front door and came closer to Aaron. "You've been gone for five years."

He nodded. He felt an overwhelming sadness that enveloped his whole being. He supposed you couldn't feel pain in your heart when you were not there anymore. Not really.

"Yes, so, tonight is different. I don't know how long it will last."

"Have you ever been so solid before?"

"No. Not since." Aaron couldn't really bring himself to say, so he didn't. "I don't mean to frighten you."

"I know. You don't. Not really. I just don't understand spirits." Curtis looked around his apartment awkwardly. "I need some coffee."

"Go ahead and make some. Or would you rather sleep? It's late, isn't it? Did you have a date?"

"It is late." Curtis looked at the clock on his wall. "Nearly one-thirty. But I can't sleep now." He turned and walked into his kitchen. Reaching into the cupboard, Curtis took out two mugs, then laughed nervously. "I guess you don't want any."

Aaron stood by the counter and smiled. "I loved coffee. Used to visit this coffeehouse every day in the morning on my way to work. On the corner of Market and Van Ness."

"What did you do?"

"I was an attorney. Criminal law. I defended murderers, rapists, thieves. The cream of society." Aaron shrugged. "Everyone deserves a defense."

"Was that--" Curtis trailed off, his face blushing scarlet.

"It's okay to talk about it, Curtis. I know you have a lot of questions. And wonder why I'm still here, in your apartment."

"I went to a séance tonight."

"Really? Because of me?"

Curtis nodded. "I wanted to contact you. See what you wanted."

"It worked then."

"You think that brought you here like this?" Curtis shook his head and poured water into a single cup coffeemaker. "I thought she was a fraud. I don't even know why I went to her."

"Still, I'm here."

"Unless I'm hallucinating."

Aaron smiled. "Unless you are. What do you do, Curtis? I see you at your computer a lot."

"I write horror novels. Like Stephen King." Curtis laughed. "Well, not like him. Not as successful I mean."

"That's good. Maybe that's why you see me. You're more open-minded to the supernatural."

"Don't know. I always thought what I was writing was completely fake." He pushed the button to make his coffee.

"I don't know, Curtis. There's some reason you see me and I'm here like this with you. It's never happened before." Aaron allowed himself to have a shred of hope. He shouldn't. Shouldn't allow it. It was so hard to hope these days. "Maybe you're the answer to my finally having peace."

Curtis blew out a breath. "That's a lot of pressure, Aaron. What if I can't help you?"

"So far," Aaron said, "you're my best hope."