Secret Corridor to Love

By Vanessa Kant

Heather Highland, painfully recovering from a broken engagement and shattered wedding plans, is invited by friends to spend a winter weekend of fun at remote Meadow Manor in northern New England. Reluctant to attend and expecting the worst, Heather never anticipates meeting up with Jake Marshall, internationally-known television host of a popular travel adventure program.

Their tenuous mutual attraction plays out against the paranormal happenings within the centuries old hotel and its mysterious ability to entice those tempted to walk its secret corridors. Drawn into this realm of voyeurism, Heather’s sexual passion awakens in a way she has never before experienced.

When a powerful snowstorm shuts down conventional travel, trapping the Manor’s occupants – and Heather’s best friend becomes mortally ill – it is up to Heather and Jake to devise and carry out a daring rescue plan.

Risking travel by sleigh through the blinding storm to save a life, Heather and Jake are confronted on their journey by supernatural specters – and their as-yet unspoken love for one another.

Please note this story contains graphic sexual depictions and is intended for adult readership only.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vanessa Kant
• Release date: Mar 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301575725

Book preview

Secret Corridor to Love

by

Vanessa Kant

Copyright 2009 by Vanessa Kant & Doll House Press, LLC

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Smashwords Edition

This story is a work of fiction.

All characters, incidents, names and places

are the fictitious products of Miss Kant's active imagination.

Any resemblance to commercial establishments, events, locations

and/or actual persons [living or deceased] is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To you, dear reader, this book is dedicated.

I hope you find it worthy and fulfilling.

My sincere thanks for selecting

Secret Corridor to Love.

May it bring you pleasure and enjoyment.

V.K.

You may enjoy my other e-book titles:

Sappho Surprise

A Camper's Tale in Two Parts

Takeaway

Secret Corridor to Love

Heather Highland, painfully recovering from a broken engagement and shattered wedding plans, is invited by friends to spend a winter weekend of fun at remote Meadow Manor in northern New England. Reluctant to attend and expecting the worst, Heather never anticipates meeting up with Jake Marshall, internationally-known television host of a popular travel adventure program.

Their tenuous mutual attraction plays out against the paranormal happenings within the centuries old hotel and its mysterious ability to entice those tempted to walk its secret corridors. Drawn into this realm of voyeurism, Heather’s sexual passion awakens in a way she has never before experienced.

When a powerful snowstorm shuts down conventional travel, trapping the Manor’s occupants – and Heather’s best friend becomes mortally ill – it is up to Heather and Jake to devise and carry out a daring rescue plan.

Risking travel by sleigh through the blinding storm to save a life, Heather and Jake are confronted on their journey by supernatural specters – and their as-yet unspoken love for one another.

Please note this story contains graphic sexual depictions and is intended for adult readership only.

Chapter One

Look at the upside, Heather, Mandy said, exasperation ringing throughout her words, you might just luck out here and meet someone new and exciting.

It'll take more than luck for that to happen, Heather Highland replied, adjusting herself in the backseat of the SUV. Besides, 'new and exciting' is not what I'm looking for these days. Right now. Her voice was less than convincing.

You know we've been concerned about you. Mandy looked out the window toward the entrance of the general store, hoping to see her husband Skip appear at the door. What Todd did to you is unforgivable in our book, but you have to get over it, Heather. Please.

I'm trying. Heather's response was as icy cold as the winter scene around them. Otherwise, I would never have considered traveling three hours north of Boston -- away from my nice, warm, comfortable, harbor-view condo, I might add -- to some backwoods inn in northern New Hampshire.

Mandy burst out laughing. Meadow Manor a 'backwoods inn'? It is a four-star, exclusive lodge. Filled with history. 'Posh' might be a better word to describe it and its clientele.

Pish-posh.

Girl, you are being one sour kitty back there. Mandy laughed again. How about if we try this: You suffer through the next three days of skiing, hot bubble baths, soft feather beds and the best food in North America, then tell me how you feel on the ride home, okay?

I'll feel just wonderful, as long as I come back unattached. Heather could not help but think that in mid-winter, Meadow Manor would have two types of customers: Committed couples enjoying the three-day weekend together or inebriated, over-grown frat boys looking to score a temporary bedmate in the countryside before returning to their urban ways. I don't want to create any new regrettable memories. I have too many of those to forget right now.

Start creating some new experiences, sweetie. Good ones, this time. Isn't that what your analyst has been telling you to do?

Counselor, Heather corrected her friend. She's a counselor. And, yes, she's telling me to let it go. Heather's thoughts drifted back through the abundance of advice that she had been given during their weekly sessions that began last fall. She insists that I find myself first before I find a partner. The problem is, I don't even know where I'm going myself!

That's why we stopped to top off the tank, Skip said, slipping back into the driver's seat and starting up the vehicle. Just in case we get lost in the Granite State hinterlands.

How far now, honey? Mandy smiled at her husband and squeezed his arm.

Less than an hour. We're making good time. Skip turned to Heather. You're still on board for this?

Why, was this my last chance to escape? Heather forced a smile.

Once we get there and are settled in, you'll see that it was all worthwhile. Skip steered the snow-encrusted vehicle out onto the deserted roadway. Besides, you'll be in great company. Bob and Laurie picked up Jake Marshall at the airport this morning and should already be there. You remember Jake, right? Skip shot a glance at Heather in the rear view mirror.

Jake Marshall? Not really, Heather lied. In truth, she had met Jake twice at gatherings hosted by Skip and Mandy Leary. Jake and Skip, along with Bob, had met at college and formed an inseparable friendship through the years. Heather's reaction, like any woman upon first meeting Jake Marshall, was one of awe. He was both physically handsome and completely unassuming. A bit over six feet tall, with short, jet black hair betraying the slightest of waves, his coal dark eyes accentuated the chiseled features of his olive-colored skin, which was lit up by the brightness of his perpetual smile and smoothed with the softness of his voice. Her impression was that Jake possessed a hidden ruggedness, giving forth the essence of a man of unending action hiding within the clothing of a seasoned world traveler. He was truly a man who, at his whim and bidding, could select his companionship. Hmmm. Jake Marshall. I really can't recall him. He must be rather nondescript.

Jake Marshall? Nondescript? Mandy broke into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, while Skip shook his head back and forth. I've heard Jake called many things, but 'nondescript' is a new one.

You know who he is, Skip said defiantly. "How many times have you seen his television show, Marshall of the Globe? It's all over the cable channels, promoted in magazines and newspapers? Come on, Heather, be real."

Ohhh. That Jake Marshall. Heather tried to backpedal from her miscalculated remark. Since Todd's departure, she had spent hundreds of hours familiarizing herself with the plethora of nightly shows to watch. Marshall of the Globe was actually one of the more interesting offerings, and she always enjoyed the knowledge of having met the show's handsome and well-spoken host in person. Of course. Jake Marshall, world traveler and journalistic celebrity. I suppose his busty sidekick will be here with him. Besides, isn't he married?

Jake was married once, but that's a personal matter that only he discusses. And the only time you'll ever see April Beggs and Jake together is on the show, Skip said. Regardless of how the tabloids play their relationship, Jake wants nothing to do with her. Trust me.

You mean we're not going to see her bouncing around the inn? Mandy asked mockingly. We're going to miss April 'Bra-less' Beggs?

Heather snickered at Mandy's questions, secretly relieved to learn that Jake's supposed co-host would not be part of the package. In her weaker moments while viewing Marshall of the Globe, Heather found herself actually feeling jealous of the well-endowed April, who was forever popping up while wearing the skimpiest of attire. Too, she had simply assumed that Jake Marshall was married. How could someone as a handsome and charismatic as he not have a wife?

April is nothing but a media whore, always promoting herself and her products first, Skip said, having an insider's knowledge of the show's production workings. Jake's actually pretty tired of her shilling perfume, personal products and clothes on his dime, during his adventures. Ask him. He'll tell you all about it.

April was good at first, Mandy added, when Jake started out on the show. She added a sort of comic relief with her outrageous reactions to being in foreign countries and impossible situations. Now, she's more of a sideshow and distraction from what he's trying to do.

That's interesting, I guess. Heather looked out the window at the passing snow-covered scenery. She seems as though she's built for comedy.

Do I detect a note of resentment? Mandy asked, half-turning toward Heather.

Me? Why would I be resentful? I don't even know her and I barely know him. They can go off and do whatever they want to do in the four corners of the world. What would I care? I'm just an everyday nobody.

Just checking to see if you have a pulse.

Really, you two. Heather brushed her blond hair back over her shoulders. I told you already, the only thing that would upset me on this trip is if I was secretly being set up with someone. And I'm beginning to wonder if --

How much farther, Skip? Mandy interrupted. The husband and wife briefly caught one another's eye. Isn't it just up here?

A bit more, dear. Be patient. Skip flipped on the windshield wipers to clear away a burst of snow. Heather, no one's lining you up, okay? We love you too much to do something like that. We're just concerned about you and, well, you and Mandy have been lifelong friends. How long have you two known each other?

Since kindergarten, Heather replied.

All those years, right up through to being college roommates and becoming part a huge part of our lives since we've met. Skip took Mandy by the hand. I'm grateful and honored that my wife has such a wonderful friend in you. We would never, ever mistreat you.

I just don't want to be put on the spot. Heather attempted to control her tears and choke them back silently. It's just that, after splitting with Todd and the way that it happened. I just don't want to be singled out and felt sorry for, and then be forced to find happiness because someone else thinks I need it.

No, no, no, Mandy said, reaching into the backseat and rubbing her hand on Heather's knee. No. We wouldn't do that to you. We want you to be with us. We've missed your company. You barely contacted us during your last year with Todd. I was so worried at times.

He wouldn't let me, Heather said, haltingly. He didn't want me to talk to you or my family or anyone else. I felt locked away and pinned down, like I was his personal prisoner, having to listen to all his promises of marriage and children and our supposed future together. She sobbed. It was all lies! All the time he was saying that crap to me, he was lying!

Shhh. Mandy attempted to calm her. That's exactly what we thought. Now, it's over and time for a new beginning. Cut loose that old life and let it drift away down stream. You can start now, if you want, or whenever you choose. We're here for you and we'll support you in every way possible. I love you, Heatie, Mandy said, using her childhood nickname for her best friend.

I love you, too, Manda-panda. Heather fetched a tissue from her shoulder bag. I'm so sorry for melting down.

Don't ever be sorry, Skip said, reinforcing his grip on Mandy's hand. You needn't apologize to us for anything.

Thanks, Skip. If I ever have a husband, he's going to have to be a lot like you, you know.

Mandy nodded in agreement. You got that right. Skip's the best ever.

Keep it up and my swelling head will be so big that there won't be room enough in the car for the both of you.

Modesty is one of his best traits, Mandy said, smiling. And running mascara is one of yours.

Heather chuckled through her tears. Stop at the next salon, Skip, I've got to get a re-do.

Well, I'm not so sure this is the best time to bring this up, but, Skip slowed the SUV to a crawl, here's the driveway. From this point forward, there's no cell phone service. No BlackBerries. And no internet.

Oh, my word! Mandy feigned disbelief. We're driving off the edge of the world.

That's right. It's all intentional. Skip stopped at the entrance and turned to the two women. You see, this is what getting away is all about. Goodbye to all the modern annoyances --

Conveniences to some of us.

Hello to peace of mind, relaxation and spiritual renewal. Skip gestured at a wooden sign swinging back and forth in the winter breeze. Meadow Manor. Established seventeen-sixty. It'll have all the comforts we need and then some.

Comforts as the pilgrims knew them? Mandy could not resist needling Skip.

Skip pretended to take on a righteous air. If you're hard-pressed for contact with the electronic age, the Salmon Gold River Ski Area is about four miles further down the road. I understand that it actually has a sports bar with a Celtic theme. We'll find that out tomorrow when we're on the slopes, alright?

Tell me something more about the inn, Heather said as she looked up at the cavernous driveway ahead, enshrouded in a thick growth of pine and birch trees. It appeared as though it were a narrow, white tunnel, burrowed out of snow that was piled as high the SUV's windows. How did you find out about it?

My dad did the all legal work, the real estate transaction, for the present owners about twenty years ago, Skip said, allowing the vehicle to slowly start out on the private road. Their names are Cedric and Celia Stanstead. I can remember coming up here once as a kid when my dad had to drop by with some paperwork. We were on a camping and fishing trip at the time and didn't stay at the Manor itself. It's way the heck in here, let me tell you.

How far?

Four miles, maybe. The only place on the road. I remember it being like a palace, a rich man's farm, with a humongous main building -- the house -- and lots of outbuildings. Barns, tennis courts, swimming pool, a horse ring, a trout pond, stuff like that. It even had a hedge maze at the time --

Hedge maze?

One of those large walking mazes in a garden made out of giant evergreen bushes. You need a map to navigate it or you could get lost in it for hours. Skip laughed. It scared me as a kid. I didn't dare go near it. The Stansteads have stayed in touch with my folks through the years and have had an open invitation for us to come and stay. I've always wanted to come back, despite all the stories.

Stories? Heather looked back through the rear window just as the main road disappeared from sight. What kind of stories?

You didn't tell her yet, Mandy?

Well, Mandy shrugged, I kind of started to, but really didn't see the need at the time.

Listen, I've already got the Jake issue to deal with, Heather said with a nervous laugh. What else might be helpful for me to know?

Skip paused to run the wipers again and peered into the blowing and drifting snow just beyond the vehicle's hood. There are legends, probably more like local rumors I guess, which I find farfetched.

Legends and rumors? Heather asked half-heartedly. Are you kidding me?

No, Heather, we're serious, Mandy said, as serious as she could be, Meadow Manor is supposedly haunted, inside and out.

Chapter Two

Heather applied the final strokes of lip gloss when the knock on the door came. Heatie! Come on! We're going to be late. It was Mandy.

Coming! Heather stood back from the bathroom mirror and, using her finger, brushed a few strands of hair back across her forehead. She turned and checked herself in the full-length mirror on the door, tugging at her dress so that it did not cling to her slip. Circling around the raised single bed, she picked up her purse from the ornate dresser positioned against the opposite wall. Ready!

This is fantastic! Oh my god! Mandy entered the room, taking it all in, from the braided rug to the fresh-cut flowers to the antique serigraphs hanging upon the walls. It's like a room from a dollhouse. Look at it.

It's cozy, Heather agreed. I love the light yellow wall coloring. And the bed is to die for. It has a feather mattress and a stepstool to climb into it.

And I love the bathroom!

Isn't it great? I spent almost a half-hour soaking in the tub. The lavender bubble bath is out of this world.

Speaking of other worldliness, you look absolutely divine, my dear. Mandy ran her fingers through the ruffles on the shoulders of Heather's dress and into her hair. You're very pretty.

Thank you, Heather said, blushing. I got this on sale and just had to take it in a bit at the waist in the back. See? She turned so that her dress swung outward, showing its flowery pattern. I'm not really feeling myself, you know? After Todd left, I lost twenty pounds. This past winter, I gained it all back and then some. The only upside is that it makes my boobs bigger.

You and a weight problem? Heather, you're a size four, for crying out loud. Stop creating problems where there aren't any, okay?

It's just that I could stand to shed --

The only thing you have to get rid of is the attitude that Todd's left you with. Mandy took Heather's hands and waited for their eyes to meet. What are you, five-foot four? One hundred fifteen pounds? Thirty-four B? Am I right?

Heather's face reddened again as she nodded affirmatively.

You're a natural curly blond with fair skin, blue eyes and perfectly straight teeth. Not to mention that your careful use of gloss makes you have the sexiest set of lips in three counties.

Stop, please.

Heather, in comparison to me, the brunette with straight, scraggly hair, potentially sagging breasts I've inherited from a long line of lactation-prone Italians and a round bubble butt, you've got everything going for you. Mandy tugged at Heather's fingers. Especially that winning personality, the positive attitude you always passed on to everyone you met. Wherever you're hiding that, I want it back. I want you back. Here with me and with us. Do you understand?

Heather sniffled and reached for a tissue. I don't want to start crying again. It'll take ten minutes to do-over my eyes.

Then how about a laugh? Come on, Mandy said, hooking her arm in Heather's, I'm hungry.

They entered the hallway and were immediately met by Skip. If it isn't the two most beautiful women in Meadow Manor. He leaned forward to kiss each on the cheek and centered himself between them. May I escort you both?

You are such a sweetheart. Mandy straightened his tie with one hand and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Please do.

They started down the wide, carpeted steps to the second floor landing. From there, the stairway broadened yet again, expanding at its base and opening into the lobby area. Once there, guests were greeted by a large fieldstone fireplace, and various stuffed chairs and couches throughout the sizeable room.

Geez, a guy could start feeling like a regular Clark Gable doing this every night, Skip said, exchanging nods with a female bellhop. Good evening.

Ironically, Mr. Gable was a frequent guest of the Manor, sir, the bellhop replied.

Skip smiled at her. Why am I not surprised?

The trio circled around the grand staircase and entered a large garden conservatory. To the right was a modest solarium facing the east. The interior area was covered by a collection of trees, shrubs and flowers, all in various stages of growth. A hydroponic system was set within a miniature waterfall which emptied into a small pool surrounded by ferns and moss. The pool formed a stream that traveled through the arrangement of greenery and exited near the underside of the staircase, where a grand piano was situated.

In the warmer months, we leave the upper windows open, said a petite gardener, her reddish hair pulled back in a ponytail, highlighting her smiling face. A number of winged guests visit us then.

Just stunning, Mandy said. It's beautiful.

The hallway to your right leads to the indoor heated pool and spa area. If you go left, you'll end up in the guest rooms that we've converted to what we call the Garden Suites. They open up onto patios that are surrounded by much of what we grow here in the wintertime. But from the looks of your attractive attire, the gardener continued, giggling a bit, you're looking for the dining room and lounge. Straight ahead, she said, allowing for a slight bow.

Thank you, Skip said, acknowledging her kindness. You're doing a terrific job.

Heather steadied herself on Skip's arm as they entered the dining foyer. The clicking of her high heels drew her attention to the gleaming marble floor that extended into the darkened dining area. The elegance of the inn overwhelmed her senses. It was not that she was unaccustomed to upscale lodging, for she had traveled extensively with Todd and he always demanded the finest accommodations. Early on while dating in college, Todd had taken her on many trips to major metropolitan cities throughout North America and, upon graduation, they had spent three weeks touring France, Germany and Italy. Finally, Todd's life was not complete without a minimum of a week's sojourn in the Caribbean each February. All of their treks had the commonality of being pampered in the finest of hotels. Todd would settle for nothing less.

Yet here, at Meadow Manor, Heather immediately felt a tangible difference in style and atmosphere from that of the established resorts. It was not only the uniqueness of the inn's layout or that of its history that impressed Heather, it was also her awareness of an unseen intense charge of enchantment in the air. The inn's atmosphere of charm was seemingly interwoven tightly together, from the warmth of her bedroom to the unfailing pleasantness of the entire staff. The ambiance made her feel like a participant in an ongoing dance, one that had neither a beginning nor an end. Heather imagined an omnipresent spiritual orchestra playing nonstop for those that chose to hear its sweet music, its melodious tunes of renewal, its notes filled with comfort, its beat keeping tempo with that of a heart in love.

Sir? The hostess stepped to the reservation podium that was subtly lit by a small piano lamp encased in a green shade.

Leary. We're here at the invitation of Mr. and Mrs. Stanstead.

So you are, the woman beamed at them. It is a pleasure to have you and your party at the Manor, Mr. Leary. Your friends were just seated moments ago. You are all the honored guests at the owner's table this evening and we do trust you will enjoy your meal.

Thank you.

Simone, the hostess called to a young waitress standing in the shadows of a tall nearby fern. The remainder of Mr. and Mrs. Stanstead's guests have arrived. Please see them to their personal table, if you would.

This way, please, the waitress bowed slightly and entered the dining area, followed by Heather, Mandy and Skip.

Heather was thankful for the slow pace of the waitress, as she was suddenly overcome with a heightened degree of self-consciousness. Was it her mind's inventiveness running wild or were the seated guests staring at her? Had she chosen the wrong dress for the evening dinner? Were her earrings inappropriate, out of place and clashing with the rose print pattern of her outfit? That was it, wasn't it? The goddamned earrings Todd bought for me in West Palm Beach two years ago! They're wrong for this setting, for this crowd! Loud and large, attracting unwanted attention.

A group of eight middle-aged men, seated at a large banquet style table, looked up from their plates of appetizers and over the small candle-lit chandeliers that adorned the white linen tablecloth to watch as she passed by. She heard the mumbling of commentary, but with a surge of adrenaline pounding upon her eardrums, she could not make out precisely what was being said. At that moment, Heather wished that she was invisible, that she could instantly turn around and escape back to the silent safety of her room and hide away beneath the warm sheets of the quilt covered bed. What am I doing here? This is what I have to go through since Todd left me to fend for myself.

Step up, please, ma'am, the waitress advised as they reached the edge of the dining room where, on a riser, sat a long table splendidly adorned with elegant table-settings and silverware.

Heather's attention, however, was instantly captured by the riveting sight of Jake Marshall seated across the table, his distinctly handsome profile etched against the backdrop of the flickering flames of the fireplace beyond. His dark hair had grown out a bit since she had last seen him on TV, its natural waviness flowing from the top of his forehead back to the tip of his collar. He was smiling, of course, displaying the sparkling whiteness of his teeth. The light of the fire was fixated in his eyes as he let loose a cannon of laughter at what was being said. Heather knew at this moment, regardless of the tension that had been let loose in her stomach, there was no turning back. An undefined destiny, just footsteps away, was awaiting her.

Ma'am? The waitress beckoned to Heather to enter the private area.

Heather! Mandy whispered, simultaneously pushing Heather in the small of her back. You're holding up the parade.

Heather stood frozen, unable to move her eyes from Jake. Time stood still as he slowly brought his attention upon her, their gaze meeting at the precise moment a loud pop of burning wood echoed within the fire.

How rude of me! Jake Marshall stood up swiftly, backing his chair from the table, and gracefully walked around the end where Mrs. Stanstead sat. Allow me, please, he said, extending his hand to Heather.

As if in a hypnotic state, Heather reached for his grip and, in a barely audible voice, was able to utter, Thank you.

Jake guided her the few steps to Mrs. Stanstead's right. Should the young miss be seated here? he asked Mr. Stanstead, who