In the quaint, sleepy college town of Huntsville, history has an eerie way of repeating itself generation after generation ... When in-the-closet college student Matthew Rhodes arrives at the old building in the town's historical district, little does he realize his life is about to take a sudden and dramatic turn. He is certainly prepared to earn extra income by posing nude for erotica artist Skylar Novak, and definitely anxious to discover if the sexy and reclusive man has an interest in him other than one of an artistic nature. But things get complicated when Matthew meets a handsome stranger lurking outside the artist's door. A stranger who has a sudden and compelling effect on him before disappearing in the blink of an eye. Matthew and Skylar quickly discover they share both an uncontrollable and supernatural bond with each other, leading to a red-hot and steamy affair, but they also realize they are mysteriously linked to the stranger. Is he even a man at all, or could he be an entity from another plane of existence with lecherous designs of his own? And could his connection to Matthew and Skylar have historical significance, involving an elaborate and desperate plan that has miserably failed every generation for centuries? Before the situation can drive him insane, Matthew is determined to open his mind to new possibilities and learn the whole truth. But in doing so, will his burgeoning love and unquenchable sexual appetite for Skylar, the man of his dreams, suffer in the process? Or will his actions secure their love for eternity?

Art for Art's Sake

“I’m on the Highway to Hell…Highway to Hell…”


The knife fell from my hand, clanking onto the table. I nearly jumped out of my seat when Bon Scott’s recognizable voice belted out the chorus of AC/DC’s heavy metal classic. Concurrently, a cat screeched, gifting me with another mini heart attack. The animal, pure black except for a patch of white fur that gave it the appearance of wearing a diaper, tore from behind the curtain. It scampered through the bookstore aisles, around my feet, then scurried for cover under a nearby shelving unit.


“…Highway to Hell…Highway to He—”


A giggle carried from the storeroom. “Oops, sorry, Matthew—and sorry to you, too, Fancy Pants. Wrong CD.” A moment later, the mellow strains of new-age music filled the air, and the volume blessedly sank to a barely perceptible level.


Chapter 60