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Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2005 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.extasybooks.com The author gratefully acknowledges the contribution of excerpts from the following authors at eXtasy books: Brandon Archer: Christmas With Wistan. Gabriella Bradley: Call Of The Wild. Stardust, Starlust Jan Kramer and Cameron Hale: Tomorrow’s Dawn Rian Monaire: Those Hills Cyber Daemon Chapter One “H ell, thanks Max, you just ruined another one,” he announced, hurling his jacket to the floor in frustration. “I didn’t ruin anything! If I didn’t know you any better, Eric, I’d say you had shit for brains.” “Don’t start with me, Max,” he glared at him. “I’m not in the mood.” Max folded his arms across his chest. “You know what your problem is?” “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” “Every time you get a date, you think with your cock instead of your brain. That guy was an absolute loser, and from the angle I was at, I could tell that his cock was about the size of a…” “Enough!” Eric came toward him, pointing. “At least he had a cock. At this point, any cock will do. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe…” he narrowed his eyes, “his cock was all I was interested in?” “Not wise. You can get yourself into a lot of trouble that way.” “I don’t want you coming along on anymore dates.” “That should be easy; you don’t have very many dates for me to come along on. Wasn’t this the first one since…ah…last June?” Eric shot him the nastiest look he could muster. “Looks that kill don’t intimidate me, Eric. I’m already dead, remember?” “It’s a damn good thing you’re dead…” he grunted, “because if you weren’t, I’d kill you myself.” “Sticks and stones; you’ll thank me later.” “Sure, when I’m alone in my bed masturbating,” he muttered, throwing himself on the sofa. “If you’d let me, I could take care of…” “Don’t even go there. Now, for Christ’s sakes, go away and leave me in peace.” Max was sitting in his favourite spot on the ceiling fan, swinging his dumpy legs off the side of one of the blades. Eric could make out the faint outline of his plump little body. His ruddy cheeks were glowing, casting a reflection off the far wall. Clad in green pants and a paisley vest, he resembled a tiny leprechaun. All he needed was the little hat. “Personally,” Max was saying now, fingering his chin, “I think it’s better if I stick around. When you’re in this mood, you, ah…now, Eric,” he said, removing his hand from his chin, and watching as he got up off the sofa, “what do you think you’re doing?” Eric was now standing in front of the wall switch, his hand inching towards it menacingly. “Don’t turn that on. Don’t you dare!” He gave Max a grin of pure evil, then flipped up the switch. Max let out a shout as he began to turn round and round on one of the blades, then went billowing off into the air, only to go splat against the wall “There you go, you little creep,” Eric told him between clenched teeth. Even though Max was just pretending to be affected by the fan, at least he’d got rid of him for now. Max had attached himself to him around two years ago when he was out on a routine poltergeist assignment. He had been called to this huge house, more like a mansion really, where the new owners had reported some unusual activity. It was nothing major; some furniture scrambled about, sounds in the night. One of those assignments where you did the job, took your money, and thought that it was just too easy. After an initial investigation, he decided that it wasn’t even worth bringing in the entire team. Getting rid of the spirits should have been easy. In fact, it would have been, if it hadn’t been for Max. As it turned out, the three spirits who had attached themselves to the house since its erection in the early eighteenth century were previous owners. It was an extremely charismatic house. After some fairly light persuasion, they had agreed that it was time to vacate the premises, all except for Max. Max had been the owner of the house in the end of the eighteen hundreds. He let him know, in no uncertain terms, that he had no intention of leaving. No matter what Eric did, Max resisted. It came down to a power of wills. Both of them were determined to win. During the two weeks he wrestled with Max, something quite enigmatic occurred; Max grew attached to him. In fact, when he finally revealed himself, he declared that he was in love with him. “I’ve decided to let you win, Eric,” he said, in a voice laced with an Irish accent. “You’re a beautiful and charming lad, and I’m in love with you.” He had been stunned. Recovering himself, he ignored the loving him part, and concentrated on the fact that Max had agreed to leave. “A good choice, Max,” he told him. Max stood there in plain view, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then said quite simply, “I’ve decided you need me.” “I don’t understand.” “You need my guidance. You are quite good with ghosts, but probably not so good with the living. I’m leaving the house, and coming with you.” Eric laughed. “I don’t think so. Your spirit is attached to this place, Max. You can’t leave it.” “Those people who knew me in life, Eric, realised that I did exactly what I wanted. It’s no different in death.” “Scientifically, your spirit is…” “To hell with science. I’m coming with you.” “Max, don’t be ridiculous. Your spirit can’t leave this house.” “Wanna bet?” If he would have bet, he would have lost. “Besides,” Max said, “I told you. I love you, Eric.” Great. The only guy who was in love with him was a tiny little Irishman, and he was dead. And that was that. Eric had walked out of that house, and Max had come with him. Since then, it had been an absolute nightmare. Not only did Max interfere with everything he did, from dating to dressing; he made it next to impossible to appear sane. Being a spirit hunter was weird enough, but having a ghost follow him around everywhere, was even worse. Talk about bringing his work home with him! It was true that his last date was over six months ago. Max had come along on that one, too. The guy practically ran out of the restaurant when Max decided to pick his plate off the table and bang it back down again, not once, but three times. He sighed now, thinking about the guy he had almost brought home tonight. Jake was handsome, a little shy, very interested in spirits. In fact, he didn’t seem too disturbed when he told him what he did for a living. Everything was going well until Max kept emptying the guy’s glass every time he wasn’t looking. The first time, Jake accepted his explanation that he had drunk it already. The second time, he looked sceptical. The third time, downright hostile. It didn’t help either, that every few seconds Eric was turning around to hiss admonishments at Max, who was sitting on a stool next to him at the bar. After Jake saw him do that a couple of times, he was out of there. Who could blame him? So, basically that was his life; chasing ghosts and trying to keep Max from getting him locked away somewhere. Neither of those things encouraged the gorgeous men to come clawing at his door. Both his career and his constant companion were stressful enough; couple that with an empty bed, and you would have had a recipe for severe depression if not for Ruby Red. Eric had always been an avid reader. When he became an adolescent and the visions became unmanageable, he often was able to keep them at bay by losing himself in a good story. As he grew older, he became fond of romantic fiction with a heavy twist of the erotic. The one highlight of his life was the editing he did for Ruby Red, an e- publisher on the Internet. This company published everything from traditional romance to the super steamy hot stuff. This is when he truly relaxed and forgot about everything. Words had always seduced him. There was one scene out of a book called Stardust, Starlust by Gabriella Bradley, a particularly beautifully written passage that he always read whenever he felt especially stressed out. He had practically memorized it. It began: Glancing down at her skin, she noticed it glowed with a soft brilliance. Carefully, she reached out and felt the bark of a tree. A branch reached out and encircled her waist. Another branch stroked her long dark hair, her face, touched her breasts. She drew in her breath when she felt a probing between her legs. Looking down, she noticed a branch touching her legs, pushing to pry her legs apart. A wanton feeling of abandonment entered her. These trees were alive, they reached out for her, wanted to examine her body…The strangeness of her surroundings and the thought of a tree’s branches wandering over her body excited her. She leaned forward and hugged the trunk pushing her body hard against it. Its bark was very smooth, silky soft, as if the trees were covered with velvety fabric. Spreading her legs, she allowed the probing of her clit. Something entered her vagina. It felt slippery, comforting, as it stroked the inner walls, twirled around, and sent her to the heights of ecstasy. She trembled and felt her flesh pucker as a fire slowly started within her and brought her to heights of sexual pleasure. When she climaxed, the branches released her. She looked down at her inner thighs and watched the pearly juices of her release flow down her silken skin to her knees. She sighed with pleasure and ached for more,