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

“Unfortunately,” continued Arturo, his rich voice dropping in volume and pitch, “we did not think outside the realm of his immediate household. His family and servants respected his ‘private space,’ as it were. But damn our stupidity! We did not expect an outsider to discover our secret and…oh, wait, I am jumping ahead of myself. Regardless, that was our ruse—an artist and his subject, nothing more. Of course, Claudio had hired other models to pose from him on occasion—perhaps to add legitimacy to our claim of innocent actions, although I am unsure—and that is when he met another young man and invited him to pose one afternoon. Gregor Rhodeleska.”


The name surprised me, although I knew it shouldn’t, considering how many European immigrants had altered or shortened their surnames when arriving in the “New World.” Nevertheless, I had never heard anyone in my family hint at the fact that our name had been changed. Perhaps none of them had an inkling.


Chapter 86