The Muse

Edited by michael-leonard

Writer has Muse, Writer loses Muse, Muse takes Writer.

Prologue:

Jim was lying in bed crying softly to himself.

"Why did you have to die? Why did you have to leave me? How am I supposed to do this without you?"

She had been his rock, his partner, his best friend, and his lover. They had met during the summer before his senior year in high school. She was only fourteen at the time, but he knew she was the one; she was the one he was going to marry and live happily ever after with. They had given their virginity to each other during her senior year. They had gotten engaged the night of her high school graduation, and had married during his senior year in college. Their daughter was born a little over a year later.

It had been hard at first, but they struggled through the rough times and each had matured, together, as a family.

Chapter One

"Erika, I don't know how much longer I can take this job. I can't stand it. There's no creativity; it's the same old thing over and over again. Tick this, double check that, foot these columns of numbers and if I have to do one more bank reconciliation, or post another general ledger, I'm going to go out of my mind. I knew I should never have promised my mother that I would become an accountant. The only reason why she wanted me to be one was because she saw the guy up the street, a partner in a CPA firm, buy a new car every couple of years and be able to afford to buy a new house up in the ritzy section of town."

"She just wanted you to make more of yourself than they had done."

"But it's killing me."

"If you weren't an accountant what would you want to be?"

"I don't know; something creative; something I don't have to follow rules to do."

"Jim, I'm nearly done with my degree in English Literature. When I finish, I'll be able to go to work, you won't have to stay there; you can do what you really want to do."

"Where's Kristin? She's not asleep already, is she?"

"No. I just got her into bed; she's waiting for her Daddy to come in and tell her a story."

Jim took off his tie, and headed for his daughter's room.

"Aren't you going to get one of her books?"

"No, I don't need one; I'll just tell her a story."

"I'll get your supper ready."

While Erika was warming his plate of leftover spaghetti, she couldn't help hearing the story Jim told their daughter. It was an elaborate tale of Princesses and Princes, evil dragons and ugly witches. The story seemed to go on and on, and although the characters were familiar, the story was entirely new to her. As she peered into the room, Erika could see that Kristin was enthralled with the tale. Although she was fighting hard to combat it, she was losing the battle against sleep. Amazingly, Jim continued the tale after Kristin was asleep and only reluctantly stopped when Erika came into the room and dragged him off the bed and out of the room.

"That was a wonderful story, but I've never heard of it before; what's the name of it?"

"Of course you haven't heard of it before, I just made it up."

"You mean it's not a book that you've read or a story your mother read to you as a child?"

"Nope, it's from up here," he said pointing to his head, "from 'Jim's encyclopedia of nothing,' as one of my high school teachers used to tell me."

"Jim, that's it; that's what you could do. You could become a writer."

"I don't know Erika, we could starve to death before I could complete a book, much less get someone to publish it.

"You'd have to keep your day job and write at night and on weekends. I could get a part-time job until Kristin starts school. I know we can do this; I can feel it in my bones.

"I just wish I paid more attention in all of my English classes. I don't have a big vocabulary; I don't use fancy words."

"You won't have to worry about that; that's going to be my job. I'll be your editor and I'll help you with your vocabulary, too. Besides, you don't have to use fancy words to get people to read your stories; in fact, today it's probably just the opposite."

"We'll have to get a personal computer and a good word processing program and a printer."

"Jim, I was going to suggest that anyway, Kristin will be going to school soon and she's going to be using a computer her entire life. We would be bad parents if we didn't get her started as soon as possible."

______ ____________

It took a while to set up a routine. Jim, being a fairly good typist himself, was able to create a first draft of each chapter. Sometimes he could see clearly where the plot line was headed, other times he just let the story form as he went along. Erika, for her part, would proofread Jim's previous day's work, correcting his grammar, choice of words, and spelling. Some nights they would sit together reviewing her corrections. Erika would ask questions pertaining to the plot of the story and make suggestions about where she thought the story could be improved. Jim had final approval on the story line and Erika controlled the final output. A little over six months later, Jim and Erika completed his first story.

The next and hardest step was to find a publisher willing to take a chance on an unpublished, fledgling author. Erika sent a copy of the manuscript to all of the big publishing houses. As the pile of rejection letters began to grow, she changed her tactics. She found a fledgling publisher, called the company and asked to speak to the book editor who had the least experience.

She found the woman to be energetic, friendly and, most importantly, eager to prove herself. Erika assured her that her husband, the author, would be a most prolific writer and, if given a chance, would prove to be a valuable asset for the right company. Within a week of receiving their manuscript, Erika received a phone call from the editor, Gail. Her boss, one of the founders of the company, loved the book as much as she did and was willing to publish it.

"That's wonderful," Erika exclaimed, "we have only one condition, we want to maintain our privacy. You and your boss can be the only ones who know who we are and there can be no pictures or in-person interviews. If you can work with us under those conditions, I promise you'll never regret it. Jim has already started on his next book."

That first novel had made it onto the New York Times Best Sellers list, climbing slowly but steadily up the list finally peaking at number four. It was a spy novel and spawned a series using the same characters, all of which made it to number one.

It was Jim who suggested that they form their own holding company. The company would hold the copyrights on all of his works, he explained, and could provide very generous fringe benefits, including a retirement plan into which they could contribute significant amounts of money.

"We'll be the only employees of the company. We'll have to think of a name that doesn't reflect our involvement in the company; something generic."

After several minutes of intense concentration, Erika shouted out, "I've got it. We'll call the company 'Lieka Sordic Holdings.'"

Puzzled, Jim, thinking the name came from her Scandinavian roots responded, "Lieka Sordic Holdings; where did that come from?"

"You know: 'like a sore dick, you just can't beat it'." She practically fell off the bed laughing at her own joke.

Jim couldn't keep from laughing as well. Her quirky wit was one of the things he liked most about her. That, along with her natural beauty, her intelligence, her vivacity and her casual attitude about sex, all wrapped up in a very pleasing and athletic package.

'How did I ever get so lucky to have her for my wife?'

______ ____________

Not wanting to be confined to one genre, Jim had started written several other novels centered on a big city detective. Erika had suggested to Gail that they be published under a second pen name. She argued that Jim was putting out so many stories that she was afraid he would burn out his loyal fan base. Reluctantly, the publisher agreed and was pleasantly surprised when Jim had not one, but two novels on the list at the same time under different names.

One night after a very satisfying love making session, Erika asked, "Jim, why don't you try your hand at romance novels? The female market is huge and only a few authors dominate the field."

"What do I know about romance novels?"

Resting on her side next to him, her head nestled in the palm of her hand, she allowed her other hand to travel down his naked body, over his muscular abs, until it came to rest over the object of her desire.

"You seem to know quite a lot about romance if you ask me. I'll help you with the plot lines and writing from a female point of view. We'd have to use a new author name; a woman writing for women, fulfilling their fantasies."

"I don't know ..."

"Come on, it'll be a new challenge. You can use us as models for your main characters. Think of all the fun we could have while Kristin is in school."

Soon they were pumping out new novels at a rate of three or four a year. Their publishing company was thrilled. Every day they received requests for interviews, calls from producers begging for guest appearances on the late night talk shows or the morning "news" programs. The answer was always the same, 'Sorry, the author does not like publicity. He; (or she) is painfully shy and does not do that sort of thing.'

The more they said no, the more the public clamored for information about the mysterious authors, and the more books they sold.

Chapter Two

Jim pushed away from his desk, stood, and walked to his office window. Outside the calm, rolling waves of the Atlantic beaconed him, as it did all those fortunate enough to be standing near its shores. He knew, however, that even though the sun was shining and the sky was crystal clear, the water temperature at the end of May was in the area of fifty-five degrees. At that temperature only the hardiest of individuals could stay in the water for more than a couple of minutes. However, the shore line proved an almost perfect place to run.

The Wildwoods had been blessed with a wide expanse of nearly flat, powdery-sanded beach. The difference between the low and hide tide waterline was over one hundred yards. At low tide, as it was at the moment, there was plenty of wet, hard packed sand to run on. No matter how many people stood or walked along the water's edge, there was more than enough open space to run along the over four miles of beach.

Jim couldn't resist its call. Glancing back on the blank screen of his work computer, he decided that today was not going to be a productive day... just like the last six months had been. He powered down the computer, walked over to his closet, pulled out his trusty running sweatshirt and a pair of well-worn running shoes. He headed out the door, down the five flights of stairs to the ground floor and exited the building, then down the seven stairs from the parking lot to the beach and set off south along the water's edge. After a quarter mile he came to the end of the public beach. A sign on the beach stated, "Restricted Property of the United States Coast Guard" marking the beginning of the Guard's New Jersey Station. He turned and headed north at a comfortable pace. As he approached the El Coronado Motel he recalled how they had first come to live there.

______ ____________

It was over ten years ago. The writing team of Jim and Erika had established themselves in the literary world even if almost no one knew their names. After four novels, three of which had made it to the top of the New York Times Best Sellers list and had received much critical acclaim; Lieka Sordic Holdings had signed a new contract with their publisher and had received a very substantial advance on their next four novels.

It was the beginning of August and they were preparing for their annual two-week vacation at the Jersey shore. As in the last couple of years, they would be staying at one of the newer motels in the "Crest", the El Coronado. At check-in Jim was informed that the motel had been sold to a group of investors who planned to make significant changes to the building and how it operated. Intrigued, he made an appointment with the on-site manager for later that afternoon. At that meeting he was shown the plans for the new building. The pool would be moved from the back side of the building facing the ocean to the south side and would have a far larger concrete patio for sunning.

In addition, a new five-story structure would be added onto the back of the building that would include 10 ocean-front two-bedroom efficiency suites. When the construction was completed, the motel, from above, would look like an exclamation point with the dot on the ocean side. Additional plans for future expansion included an addition to the front of the building as well. Then came the best news of all as far as Jim was concerned; the entire property was being converted to condos.

He rushed upstairs to their room, changed into his bathing suit, and ran out onto the beach where he discovered Erika and Kristin frolicking in the warm summer surf. In between jumping over breaking waves and racing waves in towards the shore he told Erika about his meeting and their plans for the motel.

"I don't know, Jim; you've seen our room, I don't think I could spend a whole summer in that room, let alone live there."

"I saw the plans for the new suites. They are almost three times the size of our room. There are two bedrooms and a large great room with a functional kitchen and a living room. A large counter separates the living room from the kitchen. There's also a full bathroom. Best of all, both bedrooms and the living room have sliding glass doors that open onto a wrap-around balcony facing the ocean."

"I'm still not sure, Jim. Will it be big enough for the three of us? After all Kristin is growing up, she's going into kindergarten this year."

"I know; that's why I put a $500 deposit on two! We'll have the entire top floor of the new addition. We'll talk more about it after we get Kristin to bed."

______ ____________

When Jim reached the other end of the beach in North Wildwood, he looked at his watch; he had been running for nearly twenty-five minutes. He'd have to pick up the pace a little if he wanted to pick up Kristin when she and the other girls were dropped off at the bus stop.

______ ____________

"The manager said we couldn't make any changes that would affect the outside of the building, but on the inside, we could put doors connecting both suites. Kristin could have her bedroom on one side, along with the main entrance to the suite, and our kitchen and a guest bedroom. We would have the other side. We can turn one of the bedrooms into our office; the other would be our bedroom. We could use the other kitchen as a wet bar and the living room would be our family room."

"We'll have to look into schools for Kristin. When do you think this will all take place?"

"From my conversation with the manager I think we're looking at a year, at least, before the units are available for occupancy, and another couple of months before our changes can be completed. We'll wait until the end of the school year before we move out of our apartment."

______ ____________

Before he knew it, he was back in front of the El Coronado; in fact, he had almost passed it. Glancing at his watch, he figured that he had enough time to take a quick shower and still be able to get to the pickup location before his daughter.

______ ____________

Long ago, they had decided to send their daughter to an all-girls private high school. Unfortunately, the closest one was halfway across the state, and the school would only provide busing as far as Millville, NJ. It was up to the parents to provide transportation between Millville and their homes. Because it was Thursday and he would have only Kristin in the car, he chose his 1978 Corvette rather than his wife's Explorer. Five minutes later, he was heading north on the Garden State Parkway. He got off at exit 20 onto Route 50, and then turned onto Route 47, a long, mostly straight two-lane country road that crossed through the Pine Barrens. Since he had plenty of time, he settled in and cruised at the 50 MPH speed limit for the next eighteen miles. He pulled into a strip mall and parked next to four other cars at the far end of the lot, furthest away from the stores.

He joined the four women who were standing next to an SUV. He knew them all quit well. Even though Erika used to handle the pickup, he had done it enough that he, at least, knew the women by sight; and now that he was doing it on a daily basis, they all had become good friends. Sometimes, almost too good.

Amber Edwards was the vivacious mother of Kristin's best friend, Tiffany. Amber was fiftyish, a tall, curvy blonde, who liked to dress to kill and was always touching him when they were together. To a stranger, she would seem to be coming on to him, but that was just Amber's way. According to Kristin, who heard it from Tiff, her parents were very happily married. Jim had only met Alex, her husband, a few times; he estimated that Alex was at least twenty years older than Amber. He had been a bond trader on Wall Street before he retired and was worth millions. Amber wasn't going to jeopardize her eventual payday anytime soon.

As they were talking, the yellow school bus pulled up to the curb and the five girls that were left on the bus filed out and walked over as a group.

Conversations were concluded and everyone went to their cars, pulled out of the parking lot and went their separate ways. Jim and Kristin had the longest ride back home; normally it took about an hour because of work traffic when they returned to the Wildwoods. Out here in the Pine Barrens traffic was normally light, so they could make good time; especially through a seven-mile stretch of Route 47 that went through a wildlife preserve.

The federal government owned the land and had fencing along both sides of the road to keep the animals from wandering onto it. There were no streets or houses in this section of road, which was perfectly flat and absolutely straight; best of all, there was no place for a policeman with a radar gun to hide. As they approached that area, Jim had a flashback to a time a few years before, the first year that Kristin had gone to the high school.

______ ____________

It was the night of a school play and he and Erika had decided to take the drive up to the school to see it. They had taken the 'Vette' because Kristin planned to spend the weekend at Tiffany's house. After the play, and a late-night snack at the local diner, they had headed back home. Jim had been cruising at about forty-five as they entered what he termed no-man's land. Suddenly he down shifted to second gear and stomped on the accelerator. The 'Vette' seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then shot forward like a rocket. They were up to eighty-five, just about red lining it, when he shifted to third and stomped on it again. The tires chirped again and soon the speedometer was hitting the 140 mark. Jim glanced over at his wife. Erika was sitting with her hands gripping her thighs and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. At 150 Jim let up on the gas, shifted to fourth and allowed the car to ease back to the speed limit.

When Erika, finally opened her eyes, she was flushed and her unmistakable scent of arousal permeated the vehicle. With a playful grin, she murmured, "Payback's gonna be a bitch." She shifted in her seat until she was facing him and with experienced hands she skillfully undid his belt, pants, and zipper. Slipping her hand into his underwear, she maneuvered his already erect cock out of his underwear and started a slow, sensuous hand-job.