Hearts Along the Bay

By Gabriella Swanson

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.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Mar 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005434663

Gabriella Swanson

Gabriella Swanson lives in a small castle that lies deep within the Carpathian forest mountains of Transylvania, Romania. She loves calligraphy, romance, and red wine.When she’s not writing, Gabriella studies astronomy, mathematics, and she tends to her many, many lovers.She thanks you for purchasing her titles. Hopefully you enjoy reading them as much as she fancied writing the pieces.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Late in the evening, Leon Frank came home to a vacant apartment and found a letter sitting on the only piece of furniture left—a kitchen table:

You were given a choice. Me or dope. You got dope . . .

L . . .

Enraged, he crumpled the note up and held it tight. The witch took everything, he griped, slamming his fist directly through the table. This isn’t over, woman! You hear me?! This isn’t over!

CHAPTER ONE

His coal black eyes weary; his dark hair dingy and his beard grown straggly from days upon days of long hard work, Damien Lynch stood on a beach staring out at a vast lake bay watching the sun slowly set in the west. He pondered deeply over the past events that had brought him to the spot in which he stood. Well done, man . . . you did it. What a sight. A meager grin slowly grew on his face, and he marveled over magnificent colors streaking the sky, water, and land. If only you could have made it. I know you would have loved this just as much as I do . . . if not more. Turning his attention to the north, Damien eyed a distant star beginning to shimmer into view. Such an amazing place . . . A finger tapped on his left shoulder and a female voice spoke with a deep distinctive Old English mode, Damien.

He turned around. Yeah, Sabrina?

The twins are down for the evening and Jessie is watching over them. However, they haven’t fallen to sleep yet.

All right, Damien replied, have Lilly and Frances start their evening patrols and you begin your nightly guard. And make sure Abigail doesn’t get out again, please.

As you wish, Damien.

Sabrina walked off and he briefly studied her. Ticks as smooth as a finely tuned watch, never losing track of time. Turning back around, Damien shifted his thoughts to the view and gazed at the star in the north again. His mind drifted to earlier times.

CHAPTER TWO

On a warm, late afternoon in May, Damien stepped out of his barn and closed the door behind him. Carefully, he entered a few digits into a keypad on the frame of the entry and a lock soon tightly clicked the egress firmly shut with a rapid metallic snap. Heading away, Damien strolled off through his yard, towards the back of his modest house. Walking along, he crunched through freshly cut grass; while giving him a low stomp to his step and a soft sway to his motion, a dull soreness and rubbery weakness in his legs from a long day of work stabbed outward from within his body and caused him a substantial amount of discomfort. Argh . . . Stopping, Damien took a deep breath and rubbed both of his thighs down; thousands of twinkling stars began to fill the sky and prickly, pin poking sensations rapidly pulsated throughout the muscle fibers of his legs and joints. Whew, man, he somberly muttered while bending and putting his hands on his knees, that really hurts. I think you overdid it today, Bud. Standing motionless and staring at the ground, he sucked up the pain the best he could. I’d better take tomorrow off. Standing up straight, Damien then stretched his arms out over his head and slowly turned his waist; he eyed a faint star in the southern horizon, just coming into view – Crack – a dull pop sprang out from his tailbone and a wave of energy rushed up Damien’s spine to his neck, releasing tension in every vertebra as it went. Ahh, he groaned and straightened, that’s a little better. Putting his feet together, Damien balanced his weary body and watched the star and setting sun. Inwardly he smiled and thought back to the start of his day.

CHAPTER THREE

The morning sun crept in through thin curtains hanging over two open bedroom windows; the cottony material of the coverings gently swayed from the touch of a soft breeze. Damien looked down at Marie’s face and long brunette hair, tossed around her head; a few articles of clothing lay strewn about a hardwood maple floor and the smell of sex hung in the air. He watched her facial expressions and listened to her whimper and moan; unfocused and nearly shut her eyes lied, neither sleeping nor awake. Buried within Marie, Damien held her legs up high with the back of his elbows at the hind of her knees, and he powerfully plowed his stiffness up and down in her hot, soft, pink, wet and hairy hole. Slamming deep into her tunnel and bottoming out with every thrust, Damien got extreme pleasure out of stabbing Marie as hard as he could.

Uh! Uh, she cried out, her voluptuous buns rippling wildly and the bed loudly squeaking with the slam of Damien’s hips and thighs. Uh! Uh! Damien! Uh! Uh! Damien! Uh! Damien!

Marie’s silky dark bush felt wonderful rubbing against his lower abdomen; boisterous wet suctioning calling out from around his drilling shaft spoke loudly to his ears and mesmerized his mind. Sending euphoric, stinging sensations throughout Damien’s body, his sack and bells painfully slapped at Marie’s crack and dark, puckering ring, creating burning waves of pleasure all over him. Flung into a pure erotic state of extreme arousal by the sights, sounds, feelings, and feminine aromas all around him, Damien madly pumped and fucked Marie harder and harder. Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah, he grunted, slapping hard against her pussy and ass. Uh, yeah! Yeah!

Marie’s plus-sized, bodacious breast swiftly swung, bashing, and slapping hard into her chin and neck. Hmm, she huffed, trying to hold her boobs in place the best she could while gasping for air, huh, huh! Hmm, huh! Damien! Huh! Huh! I ca- I can’t! Huh, huh! He humped her with all his might. Uh! Guh! Uh! Guh! Guh! She whimpered and wheezed, desperately clutching her tits, huh, uh! Huh! Hmm, uh!

Ah, Damien roared, the bed bouncing fast and their skin loudly slapping, Uh! Rearing back, he slammed down with one strong pound, Marie instantly squealed, and Damien abruptly pulled out of her. Briskly, he then dropped her legs and flung her fast to her stomach. Scooting over top of Marie’s big pale butt, Damien slid her legs apart with his and drove himself back into her sopping pink hole. Feverously, Damien held himself up and he commenced to pound her ass and pussy hard.

Uh! Marie howled, her buns rapidly rippled and bobbled with each of his slams, uh! Uh, uh, uh!

He leaned back onto his knees, held her hips firmly and repeatedly pounded her. Hold it open, Marie, Damien commanded. Hold your ass open!

She slipped her hands back and spread her globes while Damien bashed and bashed.

The view of her one-eyed brown tubular exit gate gawking at him drove Damien to the point of near insanity. He growled, yeah, yeah! That’s it! Good! Good! Readily licking his right thumb, Damien then pressed it against the eyeing bud and carefully roamed it on and around the rim. Intense sensations shot through his body and mind. Viciously he pumped Marie, powerfully driving her into the mattress.

Uh, uh, uh, she shrieked, uh, uh, uh, uh!

His arousal peaked. Ah! Extreme sensations packed with glory built within his balls, charged to the top, and tried to force their way out. Ah! Ah mmm, uh argh! Damien struggled and dabbed to hold the rush back, but his effort was futile. Pressures soared beyond his control and the levee began to burst. Quickly, he yanked away from Marie and rammed the head of his shaft hard against her asshole. Franticly he pumped the orifice without breaking the seal! Promptly, his loins explosively snapped, hot sauce raced through his wholeness, and it blasted forth from his girth with a rush of stinging sensations! Ah! Ah! Damien kept thrusting. Uh, ah! His pole pulsed and thumped hard, quickly emptying his cartridge to a mellow drip. He grunted and slapped his package against her round brown, cream-caked aperture. Aww, ah!

Marie let go of her rump and relaxed her arms to her sides. Damien slid back and dropped his feet to the floor. He stood up straight. Get up. Collect whatever’s yours together and get out of my house.

She laid motionless and confused for a moment, wondering. Suddenly, a quick surge of adrenaline shot through her body and her stomach did a flip. What?

You heard me, Damien replied dryly.

She rolled over and gazed at him.

Don’t look so shocked, Bitch.

I . . . uh? I don’t understand, Damien?

I know what you did, he responded to her in a shallow voice, and if you thought what just happened was going to make up for it, you were sadly mistaken.

How do you, know—I—

Stop playing stupid, Marie . . . it’s insulting.

She curled her lips and lightly gnawed at the bottom one. Damien shook his head at her. She looked away from him and blankly stared. Tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She covered her breast with her right arm and her muff with her left hand and looked back to Damien, sobbing, and feeling violated. That’s it, huh?

Yep, he replied, you got your wish, Marie.

It wasn’t my wish, Damien. Her tears flowed more, I didn’t mean for it to happen.

Spare me the act. You got an hour to get your things together and get out.

She turned her head and bawled. You’re such a fuckin’ prick!

Typical human response. Damien chuckled. Screw up and try to pass the blame onto someone other than yourself.

Cocksucker! You used me!

No, he said, you’ve been using me . . . for way too long.

You’ve got to be the most coldhearted jerk I’ve ever known, Damien!

I’ve been called worse, he replied and headed out of the room. One hour, Whore. You’ll hear from my attorney before nightfall. The house is mine, so don’t even try to take it, and I’ll pay you five million to stay out of my life. Permanently. He strolled into the bathroom for a shower. He closed the door behind him. Damien peered in a vanity mirror and muttered, so long . . . His thoughts of times to come cycled deeply in his mind and they shortly shifted back to him in his yard, watching the star and setting sun. Good riddance . . . and onward, he whispered and grinned.

CHAPTER FOUR

The sun fell deeper and nestled into dropping out of sight. Fluorescent security lights flickered on: one connected to a pole on his barn; another hanging at the front of the garage, and a small globe fastened to the soffit of a screened porch connected to the back of the house. Damien’s stomach let out a smooth growl and a slight twitch jolted through his thighs. He stopped gazing at the star and made off for the porch. Faintly spooky the air and ambient energy suddenly became: a warm breeze picked up and swept through the grass and trees, brooming up shards of weeds and kicking out waves of sweeping swishing sounds as it went, and an assortment of windchimes hanging from the interior of the veranda clanged together, dinging out delightful tones which fleetly traveled to Damien’s ears and wisped off into the coming night. One by one, crickets began to chirp to each other, and their stridulating tunes gradually flooded the landscape with thousands of harmonious calls for love. A group of bats hung high up on the gutters along the edge of the outbuilding awoke and swooped away in a speedy, echoing flutter, and the distant barking of a couple boasting dogs clamored through gently swaying trees. He reached the door to the entry and pulled it open. A hydraulic cylinder screwed to the aluminum framing of the gate swished. Damien stepped inside and let go of an iron handle. The door automatically snapped back, and he headed towards an open, sliding glass egress. Reaching the way, Damien moseyed in and tromped around a well-furnished dining room. He tapped a light switch, and a large ceiling fan with several soft bulbs enclosed in wonderfully textured sconces, fixed to its center, flicked on, and illuminated the room in a warm burning glow. Turning behind him, Damien grasped a knob to the glass portal and screen. He slid both shut and then clicked a small lever, locking each tightly in place. A phone in an adjacent living area rang out. Hmm? His legs feeling weak and heavy, Damien clomped off across an oak floor to answer the call; many of the windows throughout the house were open, welcoming in and circulating a magnificent fresh feeling of spring. Reaching the ringer, Damien stood in twilight and picked up the receiver. He put it to his ear and peered out a picture window framed in brown wood, at the large expanse of his front yard. Hello . . .

Damien, a male voice with a thick Irish accent piped. Is that you?

Yeah, it’s me. Why?

I couldn’t tell. Are you tired, old boy, or have you been hitting the Jenny?

No, Jenny . . . it’s just been a long day.

Are you okay?

I’m okay, Damien replied. Nothing a shower, a cold beer and warm food won’t solve.

I hear you on the cold beer, Damien. I’m getting ready to head out and have one myself, or two, three, or four.

Damien dully snickered. Charming . . .

Hey, now. Can’t a guy simply relax after a long day of deliveries?

Certainly, he can, Damien said. No doubt about it.

Well, there you go. The sassy is gone, and this gent is gonna have some fun. And, if I play my cards right. I may get another one.

Going trolling, huh?

Nah, Damien. I wouldn’t call it trolling. How’s about, beaver snagging? Does that work?

Beaver snagging!? Damien chuckled a mellow laugh; the voice on the other end rumbled with him. I like that!

Great beans, Damien! Great beans! Now that I’ve got your undivided, awake, attention. When are you coming up? Fred. Oops! How careless of me! We all know he can’t stand to be called Fred.

He sure can’t.

Gee, Damien. Man forbid you do. I saw him, Fredrick, once clear out a whole building of people in a fight with a business associate of mine. All because he slipped and called him Fred, instead of Fredrick or Fredrico. Gee, how weird. You know? What’s with him, anyway?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Right, Damien. I got that. If you figure it out before I do. Please let me know.

Like that’ll ever happen . . .

Stranger things have come, Damien. Stranger things have come. Man, what a diva. He dropped the package off with the part you need at my office today, and he immediately carried on about his half of the payment. So, the sooner you get here . . . the better for all three of us.

Well, I’m heading across state early tomorrow and then over to where you’re at the next day. How’s about we meet up that evening?

Sounds good, Damien. Sounds good. You enjoy your suds and grub, and we’ll see you then.

For sure.

Take care now.

Later. Damien set the receiver back to the phone and it promptly started ringing again. He clomped away into a wide hallway and roamed towards the bathroom, mumbling, leave a message and I might get it later.

CHAPTER FIVE

Drying himself off with a hand towel, Damien stood on a rug in the bathroom, in front of a tall changing mirror. Covered in numerous, colorful tattoos, he spied various places on his body. Plenty of room for more. When I get the time. Wadding the towel up, he stepped away from the mirror. If ever. Tossing the cloth into a tall plastic basket, Damien strolled to an electronic scale and stepped onto it. Looking down, he watched a red, digital display on the device, just above and between his feet light up and blink. Three times the display flashed. Before long, an automated voice set with a feminine tone sounded from within the scale and the array showed three digits. One-hundred and fifty-three pounds. Stand firmly please. At the top of the numbers, a laser eye blinked on and focused a beam up to the ceiling, off from a small reflecting panel, down to the top of his head. He evened himself up as straight as he could. The voice spoke, Sixty-nine point eight inches.

Five-foot, ten inches, and seven eights, Damien pondered. I’ve lost barely and roughly a quarter inch in seven years. I can live with that. He stepped off the scope and made way to his bedroom. Shows how much they know.

-Bling- - -Bling- the phone started ringing.

Entering the room, Damien did an about-face and headed to answer the call. He stopped next to the picture window and hoisted the receiver to his right ear. Yeah . . .

A female with a soft, welcoming, mid-tone voice responded, unsure of who was on the opposite end, Damien?

This is he.

I, uh- I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?

I was only on my way to get dressed, is all, Damien replied dryly. No biggie.

Uh, okay . . .

It’s all right. I don’t think you can see me through the phone. And if you could? Don’t care.

The voice laughed. Right!

Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, Damien chuckled, his deep tone shallow and sinister sounding, yeah, no big deal . . .

"Well, that’s good to know!"

Yep . . .

Do you have a minute, Damien?

A few . . . heading out to eat soon.

Really? Where to?

Probably, Sharky’s.

Oh, nice place.

It’s okay, Damien said, more so convenient than anything.

Don’t like to cook, huh?

I love to cook, Damien replied. But I’ve had a long day, and I don’t quite fancy it at the moment.

I hear you on the long day.

Right. Damien got a tickle at the back of his mouth, and he quickly cleared his throat. Who is this, anyway?

It’s Lorna.

Without sounding, too rude, Damien dryly responded. Lorna, who?

Marie’s second cousin, Lorna. I called a while ago and left a message.

Damien thought, Lorna, Lorna, Lorna? He replied to her, I haven’t gotten it yet.

You, ahh, don’t remember me, do you?

It dawned on him, Lorna! Yeah, Lorna. The one I met last summer at Marie’s, aunt’s retirement party-that Lorna.

That’s the one.

Please, I don’t really mean to sound like a pud. I’ve been so busy and meet so many people, I sometimes have a hard time keeping them all straight. So don’t be offended.

Not at all. I understand. It’s not like we see each other often. Hey, by the way, congratulations on the new movie. That’s really cool.

Ahh, no big deal.

I think it is, Lorna said. Really.

So, you’ve seen it?

Not yet, she replied.

Ha, right. When you do, you’ll probably change your tone. The writing and one of the leading characters are terrible.

Sure —Lorna giggled— and it sounds like he’s his own worst critic.

The artist knows best. Right?

She giggled again. I wouldn’t say that.

I would, and do, Damien snickered.

Nah, Lorna said, I’ve read your work and seen you in other features. Pretty good Sci-fi.

Flattery will get you nowhere.

Lorna burst into laughter.

Damien briefly chuckled. Now, what can I do for you?

I have a manuscript written. I was hoping you would go over it. Maybe give me some feedback and point me in the direction of a publisher.

Is it complete, he answered. Or roughed?

Do you mean, finished?

Yep, Damien replied.

Yeah, for now.

Good for you. I’m happy to hear it.

It’s not too much to ask, is it?

Not at all, Lorna. I’ll give it a once over and tell you what I think. If it’s something within the realm of what my main publisher specializes in, I’ll even forward it to them with a recommendation.

Really?

Yep. I’m not making any guarantees, but they’re constantly on the lookout for new work.

No kidding?

No kidding, he responded. You never know. You might have called me at the right time.

Wow, Lorna piped, marginally excited, that’s great! I really appreciate it. When would be a good time to get it to you?

How’s about I get ahold of you tomorrow and we’ll figure something out, then?

Okay, this number is the one to reach me at, and I left it in your voicemail.

Good, Damien said, because I don’t have a Caller ID or a pen handy.

It doesn’t come up on your display?

I don’t have anything fancy, he remarked. Just a simple house phone.

She snickered. Oh, okay!

Take care, Lorna. I’ll talk at you later.

All right, bye.

Bye. Damien set the receiver back and went off to his bedroom.

CHAPTER SIX

Damien took a long drink from a bottle of beer and finished what was left. He set the empty down to a slab before him and slid it to the edge; a wide variety of voices, sounds and smells filled his senses from all about. Turning in his stool a bit, Damien looked around the room at all the action unfolding before his eyes. He sat at the end of a large, horseshoe-style bar, near a table-top video game, against a wall filled with an assortment of framed photographs; Damien was relaxed, and his stomach felt completely satisfied from a tasty meal. Busy and filled with energy, the establishment he spied over bustled with loads of activity: several waitresses took orders from customers while a few others served drinks and food to some at tables and booths; music from a Classic Rock, satellite station jingled from speakers tucked up into the ceiling, and two barmaids worked behind the bar, mixing drinks and filling beer mugs. One of the many, flat screen televisions hung throughout the barroom showed a recap of a recent stockcar race, and twenty-three others displayed various sporting events, baseball, basketball: football and curling. Damien took a gander at the race review and became briefly interested in it. Hey, a familiar voice with some depth to it sounded to his ears. You want another?

He looked to the call and was greeted by a tall, well-formed woman with deep, dreamy, hazel eyes and long, dark brown; wavy hair that fell well to her bum, holding his empty bottle. Yeah, Kelly, might as well.

Be right back. Kelly strolled away to a long counter within the center of the horseshoe. Separating each side of the bar, the trestle sat stocked with a wide variety of spirits-and numerous cabinets lined the base. Damien watched her for a moment and then turned his attention towards an entry to a Pool room and to a tank in the distance with three, large, Parrot fish in it, swimming in circles.

Kelly opened a door at the far end of the slab, and she quickly snatched out a bottle of beer. Kicking the hatch shut with a fast stab from her right foot, she made her way back to Damien. Stopping short of him, she twisted the cap off from the brew and tossed it into a basket. Anything else?

Not yet, Damien replied.

Kelly grabbed a napkin from a dispenser. She sat it down, then the beer on top. Are you sure, she asked, looking Damien deep in the eyes.

Man, what’s up? He snapped up the bottle and took a long drink.

What are you talking about, she giggled.

Damien finished and set the beer back. You just looked at me like I’ve got something on my face.

Kelly smiled a wide smile. Her teeth perfectly bright, straight, and white, she giggled. Nuh, uh.

Yeah, huh, Damien replied in a silly voice. Yes, you did.

Kelly sighed and playfully slapped his hands. You’re silly.

"And Kelly’s holding back. So, what is it? Do I have a pimple on my