rush home and wait impatiently for nightfall, then take Rose’s book and begin reading her words aloud. At first she is only a glimmer, slowly strengthening like a flame, burning brighter with each phrase as if the very language is enlivening her. I read faster, more impassioned, and her form blossoms with fresh life, quickening the blood in my veins until we two are joined by the string of words. My tongue skips over the sentences like breath on skin, and I rise from the bed to join her in the corner, standing inches from her glimmering form.

 

Complete story published in The Big Book Of Erotic Ghost Stories.

 

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