Story cover for The Ghost in Me by LJ_Arden
The Ghost in Me
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    Parts 22
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 31m
  • WpView
    Reads 2,605
  • WpVote
    Votes 653
  • WpPart
    Parts 22
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 31m
Complete, First published May 02
Mature
What begins as a haunting turns into an obsession.
Clara Winslow is a bestselling romance author whose marriage is falling apart-and so is her writing. On the night of their anniversary, left alone again, she feels something stir in the shadows.

The Ghost in Me is a deeply sensual, emotionally gripping story about love after loss, a desire that defies death, and one woman's descent into heartbreak, lust, and healing.

✧ Hauntingly erotic
✧ Achingly romantic
✧ Unapologetically spicy

♥♥♥

© 2025 L.J. Arden. All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-9916-9933-6-1
Published by: Plotsteller
No part of this story may be copied, reproduced, distributed, or adapted without written permission from the author.
All Rights Reserved
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The Faded Vows by lynk992925
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He was waiting outside the OP, there for his student who had been injured during a fight over a phone. As he sat, casually glancing at his own phone, he suddenly heard the faint sound of a baby crying. Curious, he turned toward the sound-and froze. There, outside the pediatric care unit, sat his wife with their son crying in her arms. His heart ached-it had been months since he last saw his son. His gaze shifted to his wife, gently consoling the child. Her face looked tired, pale, and completely drained. Without a second thought, he stood, tears welling in his eyes. Each step he took felt heavy, his chest tightening with every cry from his son. As he neared, he saw her clothes were faded and worn. Her feet were bare, hardened from walking-clearly straight from the farm. His heart clenched. His eyes moved to his son-he had grown so much. She was so focused on calming the baby that she didn't notice him at first. Tears filled her eyes as she held their feverish child close. He softly called her name. Startled, she looked up-and froze. Then she quickly lowered her gaze and tried to get up. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She sat back down, turning her face away, quietly wiping her tears. He reached out to take their son. The moment he held him, he felt the heat-his little body was burning with fever. A chill ran through him. After all these months, seeing his child like this was unbearable. He loved his wife and son deeply, but his loyalty to his mother-and obedience to her word-always came first. Between a mother who owned his soul and a wife who held his heart, he was a man torn in a cruel war of love and loyalty. And she-she had given her all to a promise whispered beneath the sacred fire... never knowing that one day, she'd be holding her child, with nothing but a faded vow.
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I didn't want to. I wouldn't. I won't. But suddenly I was doing it. I didn't even register my feet hitting the fourteen steps it took to get up the stairs. My brain ignored the ninth step and how creaky and loud it was. And then I was there. Finding a towel and a change of clothes. All because he had told me to.