Nuit Aux Trois is a m/m/f menage short story available now at Resplendence Publishing.

Quinn’s two roommates, lovers Fletcher Covair and Devlin St. Giles, have the perfect idea: Quinn will accompany them on a Halloween ghost hunt at a haunted plantation. Quinn agrees, knowing there’s no such thing as ghosts and thinking the time away will give her time to assess her future job prospects, and if nothing else, a chance to relax.

But the plantation’s resident ghost, Alison, has other ideas. She wants help in righting a long-time wrong, and it seems that the ghost has chosen Quinn, Dev, and Fletch to assist her. While Quinn’s mind is reeling from the knowledge that there are really ghosts, she comes to another shocking realization: Dev and Fletch have more on their minds than ghost hunting, and Alison isn’t the only restless spirit who wants to make contact.

Set up for excerpt. Quinn has just been turned down for a promotion at work because the bosses think she’s too large to sit in the anchor chair. Now, she and her roommates are moving furniture, and talking about life.

Quinn moaned as she imagined the three of them in this huge bed, kissing and touching and making love. She’d been having these thoughts, more and more lately, and knew it wasn’t a good thing.

Dev and Fletch were in love and there was no way she was going to come in between them and propose the three of them have a ménage. Besides, they both played for the same team, and Quinn didn’t have the equipment they liked.

She sat back up just as they came out of the bathroom, still arguing about the pros and cons of visiting Fletch’s aunt.

“No voodoo,” Quinn said. “I appreciate the thought, but no.”

Fletch’s shoulders slumped, then his face brightened. He put his fingers together to where they were close, but not touching. “Jus’ a little?”

“No,” Quinn said, her heart beating faster as they sat on either side of her.

She put her head on Fletch’s shoulder and took Dev’s hand as he tickled her knee.

“I still say you should sue,” Dev said. “You have seniority over the woman they moved into the anchor spot. It’s discrimination because of your…”

His voice trailed off and Quinn sighed.

“Because of my size? Yes, you’re right, it is. She’s a perfect size two and I’m a perfect size fourteen. Not fat, but not thin enough to be the anchor. And if I sue, then I get a bad reputation in the television world, and it’s a small world as the old saying goes.”

“There’ gotta be somethin’ you can do,” Fletch said. He leaned down and kissed her forehead and Quinn wanted to make a suggestion about what they could do. Instead she sighed and shifted her head to Dev’s shoulder, who kissed her forehead, too.

“I’m thinking it would be a good night to drink. I’m also thinking it would be a good night to work on my resume.”

The men stood, almost as one, and pulled her to her feet. It amazed her they were so close they could almost read each other’s minds, such as standing at the same time.
Dev turned her toward him and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her lips lightly and Quinn’s eyes bulged. She wanted to scream at him not to do that; that it would take them places they probably shouldn’t go. But it felt so good.

When his lips left hers, Fletch tipped her head back and took Dev’s place.

What was going on here? Sure, they’d kissed her before, but never like this. And never in their bedroom, with the huge, comfy bed they’d just moved up there waiting to be initiated into the world of carnal love.

Don’t go there, Quinn, don’t go there. They’re just trying to make you feel better.

“Maybe we should…” Dev’s voice was interrupted from a shout from the staircase.

“We’re coming up.”

“Shit,” Dev said at the same time Fletch said, “merde.”

The three of them moved apart as Martin Vandreen, a friend of theirs and fellow ghost hunter, appeared in the doorway.

“Hi. I’m inviting myself to dinner so we can discuss our Halloween hunt.”

Quinn had to laugh. Martin was sweet, and very fun to be around. He was also a medium who went with the guys on several of their trips. She knew they’d already discussed what they had planned for Halloween and what he really wanted was free dinner, in the shape of Fletch’s jambalaya.

“Yeah, I figured you be here,” Fletch said. “Mooch.”

Martin laughed. “Proud of it. So, let’s eat. I’m starved.”

He bounded back down the stairs and Quinn let out an exasperated breath of air.

“No ghost talk at the table,” she said, looking at her two friends. “You know I don’t believe that crap.”

“You will one day,” Dev said. “And, it may happen sooner than you think.”

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