The Gaunt

By Genta Sebastian

A haunting love beyond time.

 

Emmaline, a frontier butch burned alive as a witch in 1720, still haunted the place where she was murdered when a young suffragette of the 1920s, Beatrice, tried to help her cross over. They fell hopelessly in love instead. Trying to join Em in death, Bea committed suicide and found herself chained to the room where she died.

For over a century, they haunted separate rooms of the same house, able to see each other only from a second story window, yearning forever for their lost loves. Their mournful cries gave life to stories of the Gaunt, a ghost who haunts the old Campbell house.

V, a handsome, masc presenting, ghost hunter and Sapphic romance author, now owns the house. On Halloween night, when beautiful kick-ass girly-girl, Nell, shows up Trick-or-Treating, V is totally enchanted. She offers to show her around the haunted house...and introduces Nell to its two resident ghosts.

With the friendly persuasion of a neighborhood witch, will the two living women give the ghost lovers their one last chance to pass over together; a day of life…in their bodies? After a century of loving and lusting from afar, what will that mean?

And if V and Nell do give up their bodies for a twenty-four-hour period, how will they be able to act on their undeniable attraction for each other?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macoii Publishing
• Release date: Apr 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224866595

Genta Sebastian

Genta Sebastian runs with scissors, always laughs without shame, sometimes writes naked, and dreams big. She started life as a child and against her own advice swiftly attained adulthood. Full grown adulting, however, proved to lie just outside her skill set and beyond her ken. Instead, she's enjoyed being an elementary school teacher, crochet artiste, amateur community theater player, master teacher, criminally wicked cookie baker, professional storyteller, Christmas stocking needle-pointer, an okay parent, cool grandparent, and epic great-grandparent. And along the way she also found time to become a published, award-winning author.

Book preview

Dedication

For Littlebit

Who transcends time.

Table of Contents

Dedication

NELL:  A Lavender Negligee

V:  Murder Most Foul

MORTI:  Quite the Mixologist

NELL:  The Lights Flicked Off

V:  Help Me

MORTI:  Whatever it Takes

V:  That was Bea

NELL:  Blue in the Face

MORTI:  You’re Not Ensorcelled?

V: You’ve Got ‘It’

EM:  I Didn’t Die

MORTI: A Zoom Call

EM:  Flames Flared

BEA: The Moment I Found You

NELL:  All Over Her

V:  Don’t Make Me Hurt You

BEA: Create a Miracle

EM: In That Body or This

MORTI:  What’s the Big Deal?

EM:  At Last, My Beloved

BEA:  It’s so Beautiful

MORTI:  The Elegant, Never Before Impressive, Witch

NELL: A Loincloth Like Tarzan

V: Whosiwhatsittoyou

EM: Beatrice, I’ll Find You!

MORTI: You’ve Sworn an Oath

EM: Living Again is Wonderful

NELL:  Twice as Real

BEA: They Are My Friends

V: A Connection

EM and BEA: To Next Steps

NELL and V: Bare Butts

POSTSCRIPT:  Morti: Probably Nothing. Still...

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About the Author

Other Books by Genta Sebastian

Adult Content Stories

NELL:  A Lavender Negligee

C’MON, C’MON, C’MON ya slow poke.

Hurry up, Aunt Nell.

I’m coming, I’m coming. Didn’t anyone ever tell you two to slow down and smell the Snickers? She pushed to keep up in her sexy four-inch leather boots. I should have worn flats for this part of the evening. I could have changed at the club, later.

Mom said we could only Trick or Treat until nine. It’s eight forty-five now.

Cherry’s eight-year-old whine could hit a nerve on Nell’s spine that made her grind her teeth. She checked her watch and pasted a smile on her face to answer the miniature Unicorn Princess. Ah, so it is. Then this is the last street before we turn around and head home. She turned up Campbell Street. We’re almost a mile from your house, and I’m...

Getting tired, the two kids joined in, laughing at her as they hurried up another set of steps to ring the doorbell.

They finished the nice houses on either side of the cul-de-sac, but both walked right by the largest one situated at its end. Big and well-lit inside an open wrought iron fence, the door stood wide open. A soulful tune sent haunting refrains into the night air, and a large sign planted in the yard announced: Haunted House. An antique, rickety old rocking chair sat on the front porch. How cool is that? The house the Gaunt haunts.

Oh, look. She nodded at it, indicating the kids should go to the door. What fun.

No way, Auntie. Ten-year-old Bill, no longer called Billy thank you very much, shook his brainless zombie head.

That house is haunted. Cherry rifled through her bag, unable to see much in the dark night. Everyone knows that.

Well sure, it’s Halloween and the homeowner’s made a haunted house for us to enjoy.

That’s not just any haunted house, Auntie. Don’t you know about, Bill looked around furtively, the Gaunt?

She’s a ghost who haunts that house, right there. Cherry forgot about candy, staring and pointing at the porch and open door instead. Carrie Ann said her big brother heard her crying one night when he was walking by. Said it scared him half to death.

Nell felt her curiosity tugging her toward the house. I want to walk up the path. The door is open, this is my chance to look inside. Oh, come on, kids. There’s no such thing as ghosts, not really. Let’s go up. She tried teasing. "You aren’t scared to go in the yard, are you?"

Cherry looked at Zombie Bill, who looked at the open door and then his aunt. Yes, ma’am. He gave her a world-weary glance. I’ve seen enough horror films to know that only a fool goes into a haunted house on Halloween, and my momma sure didn’t raise a fool. He folded his zombie arms and planted his feet like he’d stepped into a grave.

Your momma’s my sissy-sis, I used Bill’s baby name for Cherry, "and you’re just as big scaredy-cats as she ever was."

Am not!

Nell could always count on Cherry to be indignant. C’mon girl. You’ll go with me. She waved at the child to follow.

Bill glared at her but stayed put with his arms crossed as Nell opened the gate. It squeaked deliciously.

I’m going to the door, ring the bell, and see what happens. You coming with me, Cher-bear, or staying behind with lily-livered Billy, here?

The little girl looked at her older brother, then considered her favorite aunt. Nah, you go on. The youngest grinned at them both. "Someone’s got to stay here and protect him."

They had her and she knew it. Nell either went without them or bent to their wishes. After chasing around after them, carrying this, repairing that, and quipping with her favorite (if sugar-hyped) kids, she’d spent pretty much her entire weekly allotment of giving in to her niece and nephew in the last few hours. She used her don’t-mess-with-me face. Got your whistles? When they waved them at her she nodded. "Okay, wait here, right here under this lamppost. I want to be able to see you at all times, get it?"

Ditto, Auntie. But as she continued toward the door Bill called, Don’t go in. No matter what she says, don’t go inside. People never come out again. They say she’s some kind of witch.

Cherry stood bobbing her head (golden unicorn horn scattering glitter everywhere) up and down like a yo-yo. It’s true, Aunt Nell, I heard it, too.

What’s this? "You two don’t really believe in witches, ghosts, and haunted houses, right? You know it’s only Halloween, make-believe, spooky fairy tales."

Neither disagreed with her, but neither disavowed their rumors either. Billy nodded without speaking, so did Cherry, and they sat down under the street light to eat candy while waiting for her.

Well now I have no choice. Nell walked up to the open door. A purple fog spilled from the house, roiling around the front porch. As she set foot on the first step, the old rocking chair began moving back and forth. She smiled, enjoying the light shiver that rose up her spine. The aromas of pumpkin pie, butterscotch, and cinnamon apples delighted her nose.

A voice smooth as warm caramel graced her ears. Enter, buwahahahahahahaaaa, if you dare.

Inside the house a soft rustling neared the door. She braced for anything as rusty hinges squeaked loudly, pulled inward by an incredible vision so unexpected Nell nearly swallowed her tongue.

Standing in an exquisitely tailored Dracula costume, short hair slicked back and displaying an awesome widow’s peak, the most gorgeous butch vampire she’d ever seen smiled at her.

You’ve come to my door alone. The vampire tilted her head to one side as she looked for children. Dark eyes took in her costume, Warrior Woman, which she filled to perfection. Are you trick or treating?

Nell dramatically reached for her sword and half pulled it from its sheath, striking a pose. For the right woman, both.

It could take a minute for masc lesbians to recognize her type of fem, a bad-ass girly-girl. She could have dressed as Cat Woman or Emma Peel, either black leather outfit would have done as well, but she felt like letting the wind up her skirt and the girls breathe that night. She inhaled. Get an eyeful, sexy Dracula. For you, I could be on the menu.

See the zombie and unicorn under the lamppost? She nodded toward Cherry and Bill pigging out.

Yours? The vampire continued examining Nell’s costume.

She blushed and preened, in that order. My oldest sister’s kids. They’ve dragged me all over town half the night Trick or Treating and now I’m walking them home. She glanced at the two, still safe and scarfing candy. They say you’re a witch and the house is really haunted.

The handsome butch looked up and fixed her with a stare, midnight blue eyes fringed with long thick lashes pinning her in place, then shot the sleeves of her ruffled dress shirt. I’m not a witch, I promise you that.

Nell shivered, gooseflesh popping up on exposed skin even on such a warm night for late October. In the blink of an eye, a chain undone, and an impressive flick of the wrist, she found herself draped in the vampire’s warm black cape.

Leaning against her doorsill in a thin linen shirt, form fitting red brocade vest, and ass-tight black trousers, the hot butch used her smooth caramel voice. As for whether the house is haunted, there’s only one way you’ll ever know. Dark eyes dared her. Come back alone.

Nell felt a shiver run up and down her back. Alone?

After you drop the children off, what else did you think I meant? She shrugged. A lot of old stories surround this place.

So I’ve heard. Nell smiled charmingly.

I’d love to show you around. The sexy vampire opened the door enough to show red flickering candles lighting a dark corridor lined with the purple swirling fog that opened into...

Nell couldn’t quite make it out. She leaned in for a better look and the temptation to go in grew even stronger. The delicious aromas, eerie sounds, and sight of this handsome butch ready to play on Halloween entranced the imagination. Still...

Aunt Nell, let’s go! Bill’s voice trumpeted through the night, imperious as only a tired kid can be. You’re going to get us in trouble.

She waved to show she’d heard him, then turned back. My nephew says people go in your house, but never come out.

A few maybe, the masc vampire’s white fangs gleamed in reflected streetlight as she smiled. But never anyone as beautiful as you, Nell. She took her hand and raised it to her lips, kissing the back of it. Turning it over, she placed three full sized chocolate bars in her palm. If you’re afraid to be alone with me, a few old friends will be dropping by in a while for a drink. She smiled, as if at a private joke.

Afraid? Hell, no. Not usually so forward, Nell surprised herself by adding, A bit at a disadvantage, perhaps. After all, I don’t even know your name but you know mine.

My friends call me V.

Vee?

Short for D.V., even shorter for Dolce Vita.

Dolce Vita? Sweet Life. She couldn’t stop her flirting mouth. Your parents were poets.

Dad, actually. My mother had no say in it; she died giving birth to me.

Not knowing how to answer the idea that a father would name a newborn Sweet Life following her mother’s death in childbirth, she simply smiled. I’m Nell, short for...

Eleanor, like Roosevelt, but I quite prefer you slightly dangerous. V grinned down at her, not far, just enough. You look ready to take on the Roman army.

Nell felt herself blush. I was almost Cat Woman.

I would love to see you as a cat. V’s eyes strayed across Nell’s full breasts.

Aw, Auntie! C’mon. Cherry’s whine lassoed Nell’s spine and yanked. She backed up a step.

The caramel voice flowed into the night. Cats and bats make for a fun Halloween party. She licked her full, sensual lips as provocative eyes smoldered.

How fun? Bring a toothbrush in case you stay over fun?

V smiled as if hearing her thought. Hurry back. She disappeared behind her door, edging it half shut again. Don’t bother knocking, just come on in. I’ll be expecting you.

As Nell turned to go, she felt a hand grab her ass. She whirled but saw only the rocking chair swaying back and forth. Her heartbeat doubled as she snatched the cape from her shoulders and threw it on the chair, then hurried down the walkway.

A half-hour later, after returning the kids, racing home for a quick cleanup with a let’s-hope-this-is-what-I-think-it-is thoroughness, and donning her second choice costume for the evening, she headed for her car remembering Billy’s warning.

She’d claimed her share of the candy, kissed everyone good-bye, and headed toward the door at a trot when he followed her into the hall. Auntie. You don’t believe she’s a witch.

It wasn’t a question and Nell didn’t ask which ‘she’ he meant. Bill had always been a bit uncanny that way. No, of course not. She gave him a reassuring hug. Besides, she promised me she isn’t.

He just groaned, shaking his head and stamping his foot. Of course she said that. What else would a witch say when she invites you to a party?

You heard us talking.

He smirked. I hear a lot of things. Billy frowned. And I hear a ghost called the Gaunt haunts that witch’s house.

Eavesdropping is a nasty habit. Partly mad that he listened in on her flirting, she also felt a bit relieved someone would know where she’d gone in case she went missing. Kissing his forehead, she’d sailed out the door, calling back before she’d closed it, You watch too many horror movies, kiddo.

He slapped his half-missing forehead. The victims always say that! You’re doomed.

Remembering how upset Billy seemed, she spoke aloud in the night. "He’s right, Nell, you are taking a chance. Whether there’s a scary ghost haunting the place or not, V’s a stranger and you’re going to her spooky old house alone. She felt a distinct warmth between her legs. And she’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in almost a year. She allowed herself one squeee" and piled into her car, eager to see where this strange night took her. She leaned out the window peeling down the street.

Helluva Halloween!

V:  Murder Most Foul

TRICK OR TREATING OVER, sidewalks and streets soon emptied except for drifting leaves. Jack O’Lanterns flickered as they died. A sense of melancholy filled the night as it prepared to celebrate the Day of the Dead.

V looked out her upstairs bedroom window, watching Nell sit in her parked car and look toward her house. The same streetlight the children sat under earlier was dark now, everything deeply shadowed.

She couldn’t stop staring as Nell stepped out of the car and adjusted her Cat Woman suit, slipping her mask over her eyes and adjusting the ears headband through her hairstyle. The young beauty pulled the zipper of her black leather outfit all the way up before starting down the walkway.

A dark night with the moon already set, the pathway from the sidewalk to the door looked gloomy. She left the porchlight on and the door still ajar, but Nell nevertheless hesitated at the doorway.

Hello? V? The pretty young woman pushed her door in a bit. It’s Nell, remember me?

How could I forget? Striding through the purple fog with her long legs she made her grand entrance, materializing out of the shadows. I’m so glad you came to see me. She reached out and took Nell’s hand, raising it again to her lips before stepping back to take a good look at the costume.

My, my, what a sexy cat you turned into. She walked all the way around Nell, drinking her in. From behind she leaned in and sniffed her neck, inhaling the scent of jasmine. Meow.

You’re so close to my throat with your fangs. Are you dangerous? Her voice quavered a tiny bit.

V leaned in even closer. No more than you, dressed like that.

I’m glad you like it. Taking a step away, Nell twirled on one toe, a neat pirouette. "But a full bodysuit of leather is much warmer than the outfit I had on earlier." She lowered the zipper down to the top of her cleavage, fanning herself and winking.

V grinned and offered Nell her arm. I imagine it is. She couldn’t help leering. I appreciate your sacrifice. Let’s see if we can find you a cold drink to help cool you off.

They strolled together down the wide hallway lined by still burning thick red tapers which flickered as they passed. Nell didn’t turn around and see their flames die, one after another, as the pair passed through to the kitchen. It didn’t faze V in the least.

At least, now.

The utensils in her kitchen were modern, up to date, and quite fashionable. The room itself, however, harkened back to a hundred years ago or more, with thick walls and windowsills that opened outward rather than in. Kerosene lamps burned low on high shelves, throwing shadows with flickering flames. A glow-in-the-dark skeleton waved cheerfully, hanging from an old-fashioned broom closet. A wide counter ran the lengths of one wall, with a bar set up at one end and finger food laid out along the rest.

V walked up to the bar. Morti, she’s here. Quit being so shy. Come on out and be introduced.

She turned to Nell. I told you a few of my friends were coming by for drinks.

Friend? A scurrying sounded from the ceiling over their heads.

Nell looked up and by the time she looked down again an elderly woman with owlish eyes, green and rimmed in gold, considered V from the other side of the bar. Her big round belly supported an equally bulbous head, completely wreathed with wiry white hair. She stood on two skinny legs, even her six-inch high heels bringing her only to five feet.

It’s good to know you think I’m a friend. Morti turned from her and winked at Nell. Gives me an advantage, don’t you see?

Um, Nell, still looking from the odd old woman to the ceiling and back, prevaricated. It would if you weren’t really her friend.

She’s sharp. That’s good. Morti grinned at V.

And clever, as I told you. V grinned right back. And as luck would have it, she’s easy on the eyes.

Even better than that, Nell put in a bit sharply, she refuses to be discussed in the third person in her presence.

V looked surprised and Morti covered her mouth, then both laughed out loud.

Duly noted, my dear. The old lady bowed slightly. I do apologize.

And you? Nell turned to V. Do you apologize too?

I do, indeed. It was very rude of us. Morti will make it up to you with one of her special concoctions. V eyed Nell’s