Moonlight
A creepy mansion house might not be everyone’s idea of the
perfect vacation, but to Ashlyn it’s exactly the peace and solitude
she’s been looking for. Arriving in the middle of a thunderstorm,
she imagines Dracula coming to greet her but has no such luck. As
the storm passes, she heads out into the moonlit garden and
discovers a mysterious man, handsome enough to rival
Dracula.
Tristan is as otherworldly as they come. With an old way of
speaking and antiquated dress, his aura of mystery is only enhanced
by the fact he claims to know Ashyln and only appears at night.
Spending her days thinking about him, Ashlyn realises that she does
know his face, but she can’t remember where she’s seen him
before.
One fateful evening, she’s walking the grounds of the house
when she comes across a statue in the garden and the mystery of
Tristan is revealed when the moonlight touches it. When he explains
that he was cursed centuries ago by a relative of hers because he
didn’t love her and that it was Ashlyn’s touch years ago that made
him able to walk under moonlight, Ashlyn decides to do everything
in her power to free him, even if that means falling in love
again.
Moonlight
Felicity Heaton
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2008 by Felicity Heaton
All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without written permission from the author,
except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a
review.
****
Moonlight
Lightning
arced across the black clouds, illuminating the two turrets on
either side of the facade of the manor. Their conical roofs reached
up towards the dark tempestuous heavens. A weathervane spun
fiercely in the wind above one. Ashlyn feared the lightning would
strike there next. Thunder rolled overhead, low and threatening.
The windscreen wipers of the taxi squeaked rhythmically in time
with the swish of water as they cleared the heavy rain. Her warm
breath fogged the window nearest her. Did she really want to go out
there, in there?
Her
aunt’s house had never seemed so frightening and
haunted.
With
trembling fingers, she handed the taxi driver the fare and then
slung her backpack over her shoulder. She pulled her black umbrella
from the side pocket and armed herself with it. It wouldn’t stand a
chance against the weather, but she had to give it a shot. It was
better than admitting defeat and getting soaked without putting up
the slightest fight.
She
opened the door and took a deep breath. The moment she stepped out,
she pressed the button on the umbrella with one hand and shut the
taxi door with her other. The umbrella burst open and was above her
head before the door had even closed. She hunched up and ran
towards the arched door of the house.
Lightning
struck again, closer now, and she froze on the gravel drive. Her
hands shook along with the rest of her body when the thunder boomed
above her. The storm was overhead.
Another
bolt drew her eyes back to the imposing house. Not a single light
was on. The windows reflected the white light of the storm and
flashed like cat’s eyes. She willed her racing heart to slow down
and tried to get a grip, but the sight of the dark house in the
midst of such a heavy storm was creeping her out and making her
imagination run riot.
Wind
blasted against her, plastering her legs with fat rain drops and
saturating her in an instant. The trees surrounding the house and
garden swayed ominously, black pines against an even blacker
sky.
When
lightning arced directly overhead, she ran to the door. The wind
claimed her umbrella, ripping it from her hand. She turned in time
to see it dancing across the garden, heading for the dark woods.
She swallowed and shoved her key into the lock on the door. She
could get another umbrella. There was no way she was going into
that forest. It had frightened
King Abdullah II, King Abdullah