Hearts Along the Bay

Hearts Along the Bay

Mark Morgan has a cottage on the bewitching northern lands of Sanborn Township. Damien Lynch: a highly successful writer, actor, engineer, and scientist holds all he’ll ever need. Years of hard work have borne fruit to him that others can only dream of. His “cup runneth over” and yet one thing remains out of reach. To what extent will he go to, to get the only thing he had ever really wrought for—Mark’s place?

On a quest to reach his one, final, and only goal, an unforeseen variable, storms into his life and fills his days with music, passion, and a love unlike he’s ever felt. With a debilitating disease slowly ravaging his body; time aging him more and more as the days and nights pass, and two children on the way, his ambitious plans remain the same. A cabinet full of secrets he holds closed to a curious heart, gradually opens, and takes the soul on an unimaginable journey.

Soaring above the clouds at an astounding speed, Damien pressed forth towards a distant location. He and Lorna could see a storm down in the distance, brewing up winds and kicking out flashes of lightning.

“Where are we going,” she buzzed, moderately shivering.

“It’s a surprise.”

PUBLISHER NOTE: Erotic Romance. Science Fiction. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. 80,300 words.

♥♥♥♥ Red-Hot Romance

M/F Romance

SKU: 978-1-005434-66-3 Categories: ,


The sun had gone, and night came. High above the shack and woods, the black fabric of space hung, speckled with billions of stars. Damien sat in an old chair, reclined back, staring up through the skylight at the wonderous, radiating cosmic fires of the universe. Painting ghostly shadows on the floors and walls, toasty candle-like light from an antique oil lantern travelled from the bedroom, waving and flickering with a warm breeze from an open window.
Creating warm musical notes, smooth fingers plucked and gently strummed the strings of the magnificently crafted harp, sending marvelous soundwaves throughout the evening; Lorna’s voice gently hummed along with an enchanting feminine tone. Moved by her sound, soothing waves of peaceful feelings circulated through Damien’s body, massaging his inner core while easing a stinging pain within his muscles and bones. He carefully listened and watched the sky; the outside air was still and the faint howling of wolves called out, deep from within the wooded distance, tickling his ears as well with their delightful calls.
 Lorna ceased playing. “Damien.”
 “Come here. Will you please? I don’t like talking through walls.”
 He slowly rose and stretched. His feet and calves feeling heavy, Damien next teetered to the bedroom. He stood and leaned against the entry. “Yeah . . .?”
 She looked up at him from a stool, with a recording device in her hands. She went to speak and momentarily studied him. “Are you okay?” “Why?” “You look a little pale,” Lorna replied with concern, “and like you just saw a ghost.”
 “I don’t believe in ghosts. I don’t believe in angels, either.”
 “Really, Damien. Are you all right? Because you don’t look well.”
 “But I think I’m looking at one, right now.” He swayed and moved his right leg up and down.
 “Looking at what,” she pondered.
 “An angel,” Damien answered, glassy-eyed and obviously very weary to her. “The lantern light on you. Your light blue teddy, negligee . . . white knickers and socks, you, sitting there. Your tan skin, under it all, playing and humming. You look and sound like an angel. It’s . . . you. You’re so beautiful and it’s soothing.”
 Lorna could see a few paltry bubbles of sweat on his forehead build up.
“That’s so sweet of you.”
 “Really, I mean it. By all means . . . please keep playing.”
 “You’re in pain, aren’t you?”
 “I’ve been in pain, on and off my whole life,” he replied with hollow eyes.
 “But hearing and seeing you like this, washes it all away.”