Something About Sara

Something About Sara

by J.T. Seate

Genre: Paranormal Mystery Romance

Release: September 2012

Editor: V.L. Murray

Line Editor: Greta Gunselman

Cover Designer: Nika Dixon

Words: 25505

Price: $4.50

ISBN: 978-1-77127-107-3

Back Cover:

Something About Sara is an erotic romance/thriller about paranormal love and hate. In this haunting, yet intimate mystery, the protagonist relates his tale of a man trying desperately to hold onto something that could destroy his sanity, cost him his life and yes, even his soul. Passion, loss, the supernatural, murder and mayhem all form parts of the puzzle. It could be likened to a contemporary version of Robert Nathan’s 1939 bestselling novella, Portrait of Jennie. The bottom line: Something About Sara will appeal to those who like their imperfect romances mixed with the unknown.

Excerpt:

She did exist, this pretty girl.

A week after visiting Butch, I found myself in downtown Golden on a beautiful, unseasonably warm April day. This time I wasn’t seeing her in the dark room on a sheet of paper, nor did I have her to myself. She was in a public place.

While I straddled a chair in an ice cream joint on Washington Street eating lime sherbet in a cone, she sat three tables away having coffee and reading a textbook. I knew this encounter was inevitable, but her reality still jolted me. No ghost. No mirage. Flesh and blood.

I wondered what would happen if I didn’t approach her. Would she approach me? Were the events yet to unfold so irreversible that if I got up and walked off, I would see her in the park, or at the mall, and be compelled to make contact?

This moment was pivotal in my life. Had I known the consequences, I can only speculate if I would’ve had the willpower to act differently.

I finished my cone, got up, and walked to her table. She stopped reading and raised her eyes to meet mine.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “but I believe I know you.” I stared dumbly at her, not thinking of anything to add.

“You think so, huh?” she said with a friendly smile that revealed perfect teeth to complement her green eyes.

I hadn’t expected such a warm reception. I plunged on. “Yes. You’re my rock lady.”

She laughed, her gaze never leaving mine. “Your rock lady? I’ve been called some funny things before, but never that.”

Her brilliant eyes were riveting. The greenest eyes I’d ever seen, offering an ocean of desire I could only dream of. Of course, I fell in love instantly.

“Can I sit down for a minute? I’m dying to tell you about the rocks, which I hope aren’t just in my head.”

She seemed to think it over, tilting her head as if observing some new curiosity.  Then she glanced at her watch. “I have a class in a little while. You can walk me to my car if you like.”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

We walked toward a park at the foot of Main Street. I wondered again what this encounter meant. Maybe it wasn’t the girl in my pictures after all. Maybe I was just being a stupid middle-aged goose?

She clutched her book to her chest like a schoolgirl while we walked. “So what about me and your rocks?”

“You don’t remember being my photo subject a week ago? In the foothills?” I said as casually as I could, matching my steps to hers.

She stopped, looked at me inquisitively, and then laughed. It was almost the cackle of an older person, the only thing I’d noticed that detracted from her near perfection.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a little gasp. “I’ve never been anyone’s model. I go there to meditate occasionally. She looked away for a moment and then back at me coquettishly. “And you photographed me? You devil,” she added with a chuckle.

A child lurks inside most men, alert to an opportunity to cast the drudgery of routine aside. Pushing ahead, feeling rakish, I told her, “I’ve never had a more pleasing subject, nor one I wanted to shoot again more desperately.”

We strolled another block to the car. She unlocked her compact, tossed her book on the seat, and we talked for what seemed an eternity.

Her name was Sara Fitzpatrick, twenty-five years young and finishing a graduate program while working part-time. As we spoke, I felt a thread existed within her that had run through my life long ago. Something about her—a look more sensual than a touch, a tone more meaningful than words.

As I watched her, casually leaning there, smiling and talking, she looked like a model out of an L.L. Bean catalog. She was a great deal closer to the age of my son than to mine, but a father figure was definitely not the image toying within me.

“I’ve got to scoot,” she finally said.

Knowing I hadn’t appeared to be listening and feeling foolish, I pulled myself together long enough to ask, “Would you consider meeting me for lunch so I could show you the pictures?”

She pondered the question. Now I was being mushy. Sara was thirty years my junior.

She flashed another smile. “Sure, why not, Mr. Collier. How about you give me your number and I’ll call you. I have an awfully busy schedule between school and work.”

“That’d be great,” I said, but my hopes plummeted. She won’t call. First she found me to be a curiosity, now she was trying to escape gracefully. All these feelings of inevitability were just so much bunk.

I dashed off my number on a card. She took it and then offered her hand. I grasped it and shivered at her touch.

“Well, nice meeting you. I’ll give you a call,” she said brightly and climbed into her car.

“I’ll polish off my portfolio along with your pictures,” I said stupidly, shutting the door for her.

Off she went, out of my life I supposed. But if so, why these photos and these feelings? I had little choice but to wait and hope I would hear from her. It gave me something to offset the dread of what my ghosts might be up to.

About the Author:

J. T. has written everything from humor to the erotic to the macabre, and is especially keen on stories that transcend genre pigeonholing. His more than 200 pieces appear in numerous anthologies, magazines, and webzines. “Although I enjoy writing in all genres, as well as non-fiction, it’s the mysterious and the macabre that seem to influence the funny monkey in my brain the most. More recently, I’ve tried my hand at erotic romance with some success.” In addition to his novels and novellas, his short stories and memoirs appear in numerous magazines, newspapers, anthologies and webzines. Recent publications can be found at www.melange-books.com, www.whispershome.com, and www.solsticepublishing.com for those who like their tales intertwined with the paranormal. See more on www.troyseateauthor.webs.com and on amazon.com.

Author's Other Works:

Carnival of Nightmares – Horror Anthology – Melange Books – September – 2010

A Mask for all Seasons – Erotic/mystery Novella – Silver Publishing – October – 2010

Connor House – Paranormal Novella – Solstice Publishing – June 2011

Sex in Bloom – Erotic Anthology – Melange Books – September 2011

Midway of Fear – Horror Anthology – Melange Books – November 2011

Valley of Tears – Melange Books – Novel, February – 2012

Tears for the Departed – Melange Books – Novel, March – 2012

And the Heavens Wept – Melange Books – Novel, April – 2012

20 Multi-Author Anthologies – Adams Media, Pill Hill Press, Library of the Living Dead, Xcite Books, Ravenous Romance, Silver Publishing, Melange Books, Library of Horror Press, Grand Mal Press, Burning Bulb Publishing, Sam’s Dot Publishing, Prairie Times – September 2009 to present

18 Erotic Romance Books – Whispers Press – November 2009 to present

7 Erotic Anthologies – Renaissance Press – September 2010 to present

Customer Reviews:

This is an outstanding paranormal thriller. I must admit although I am Troy's editor, I am also a huge fan. I couldn't wait to turn the page to find out what was coming next. The story has a little spice in it and a lot of suspence. First-rate novella. You can't go wrong getting this gem. Lynne Murray

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