THE SOLACE

By Cyn J Ley

Unknowingly, happily married Leah Hampstead has been followed all of her life. But never by an assailant. Always by someone who drawn to her in a way he could never define.

Ryan Jasper needs to accompany Leah for reasons he doesn't understand. Then comes one night after a brief encounter, his heart tears apart.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Cynthia Ley
• Release date: Jun 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781733385954

Book preview

THE SOLACE

Cyn Ley

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means - manual, mechanical, or technical - without the express written permission of the author, save for brief excerpts which may be included in reviews.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

OTHERLAND PRESS

Copyright 2021

Cyn Ley

ISBN 978-1-733859-4-7

DEDICATION

To my mother, who inspired Leah,

and always, to my Beloved.

PART ONE

Chapter One

Leah Hampstead had a dream.

A man’s gentle voice reached her from the bedroom entry. It was soft and low and intoxicating; she felt herself drawn to it, unable to not listen to its mellifluous tones. She turned over in her sleep, lying on her back, anticipating an arrival of which she was uncertain. Whoever this was, it was not Frank. The voice was deeper than her husband’s, but no less welcome. Oddly, this was no one she thought she knew.

A fantasy, then. She was not concerned, and let the story play out.

A muffled slap of bare feet across the hardwood floor, approaching her, and a slight depression on the bed where he sat by her heels. She sensed a faint muskiness in the air, leaving no doubt as to its gender. A voice can be altered, but a scent can not. She felt the blankets being pulled away from the foot of the bed to allow him access. He massaged her feet, then lifted the blankets off of her completely, angling them off of her body to fall on her other side, the draperies hiding her husband from view.

The unknown moved up and touched her breasts, running his hands across them in a soft repetitive circular motion, caressing them, then slipped back down to her legs, stroking slowly and sensuously from ankle to thigh, the edges of his fingernails awakening every pore, gradually encouraging her knees to part. He slipped between them like a shade, his movements whispering as he drew himself up, hip to hip, laying upon her, making her wait. She felt her mouth open, licking her lips. It was almost unbearable; the moments were endless…

And then she choked, gasping for air. She couldn’t breathe; he was too heavy, too strong. She felt him force himself against her over and over again, a great cold overtaking her. She couldn’t move, impaled by him, helpless. She heard his gasps, felt them gust across her skin.

This was wrong. She forced herself to open her eyes, and saw only a fog. A fog that was trying to rape her. Rage beat out terror, and that gave her the adrenalin rush she needed. She flung her arms out in front of her and shoved it away.

It lifted from her completely, dissipated, and was gone.

She looked down at herself. Whatever she had felt had not left her nightclothes in disarray. The blankets had been shifted, but apparently only by her own movements, nothing more.

She sat up. Frank was still next to her, sleeping peacefully. It had not affected him in the least.

What was that? A vivid nightmare?

She set her feet on the floor. Everything seemed to work normally.

Something had touched her, in a manner both intimate and terrifying. She pulled up her nightgown, fully expecting to see bruises on her thighs.

Her skin was unblemished.

Who was that? It certainly wasn’t Frank. The man she adored yawned, woke up just enough to murmur, You ok, honey?

Yes, love. Just need to pee. Go back to sleep. She leaned over and kissed him.

Leah rose and went to the bathroom, splashed some water on her face, dried off. Whatever this was, she would ask Cecily about it tomorrow.

Chapter Two

Cecily was Leah’s eighteen-year-old daughter, now just one month into her senior year.  She had loved folklore all her life and was fascinated by myths and legends and travelers’ tales, of cryptids that are and those that existed only in the imaginations of ancient writers but survived in sightings recounted throughout history. As a small child, she began with fairy stories; growing older brought her into the worlds of the ancients and the histories which spiced the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. The modern world brought her into scientific method and discovery, and there was no reason left anymore to think that hobbits and Sasquatch could not inhabit the same Earth. Cultural memory could be proven.

This was how Cecily thought. Her world view was wide reaching and much more inclusive than that of any of her peers. She didn’t care if other people thought she was a weirdo.

At least she wasn’t boring.

Mark found her fascinating.

Mark Jackson lived on the next street over. He and Cecily discovered each other in their junior year and had been pretty much inseparable ever since. While neither would have admitted to a love interest, it was pretty obvious to everyone else that something was going on. The two had an easy, comfortable way with each other that only comes from people who have known each other a long time. Mark and Cecily had known each other for lifetimes.

While Mark’s family thought Cecily was a little off, as they put it, they nonetheless liked her and her family. The Hampsteads had taken to Mark right away, embracing him as one of their own. It was usual for Cecily and Mark to end up at her house after school, studying together. Even Pip, Cec’s brother