“WHISPERING RIDGE” – The Lost Days Of Enchanted Bliss…

(Abridged Chapter Sample & Intellectual Property Of Author)

“Dream of the love that time would lay down and lie still for.” – Sir William Shakespeare…..



Mr. Brown could never let go of the idea that his “Elle”—one of the truer loves of his life—was the one who got away! The starry-eyed lovers could never escape that 800lb garrilla in the room with them…so to speak! Terrible shame, because together they were revered—- by their polite “Elitist Social Society”—-as that quintessential “power couple”, in their own right!


As Mr. Brown Remenissed….

Caught in gridlock—-“on Georgia I-985 late one evening after work, I could not keep my mind from thinking of those first months I spent with the enchanting “Lady Elle”. Many moons have passed since the first day that beautiful; stubborn; and tenacious creature came barreling up my driveway to “whispering ridge”───in her little white pocket rocket (Ford Fusion)! Oh yes…I remember that early morning, as if it happened yesterday. I could hear the music blasting as I caught glimpses of her kinky auburn tresses: wildly airborne in the wind. She looked almost “angelic” speeding up that hill to the ridge. I guess, at that particular place and time, it was simply our unplanned and unexplained destiny—her journeying to me, of course. That lady knew how to leave her mark and impression: for that matter. It was in those days and moments I had the revelation that Whispering Ridge, in both my heart and mind, would never be the same—ever again!”

At that juncture in my life—-the ridge really needed the presence of Elle’s ‘larger than life” spirit and aura. I realized that fact now more than ever, as my mind reflects back to those days of utter hopelessness and loneliness for me. After three days of thunderstorms and mild flooding the ridge and I could only bask in the warmth and energy Elle brought with her, and the radiant sun above. My body tingles from head to toe, and other areas I dare not mention, aloud! Elle, just had that way about her. What southern gentleman, in his right mind, could have resisted that? None—that were at the ridge that day…not a single one!

However—-in the few seconds before her arrival my gut instincts kicked into hyper drive! I guess you can call it intuition…or better yet…my “emotional intelligence”. Elle, loves that term. The first notion made every extremity on my body tingle with intrigue, and a type of unbridled longing: which had lain dormant for nearly three years. A tumultuous divorce would do that to any man or woman. The seconds were far more congealing to my adulation than anticipated. The look in her eyes, and the speed of that vehicle was proof positive that this beautiful angel was running from something—-psychologically ominous, so to speak. I remember wondering, for just a bit…if the “ridge”…nestled that far in the north Georgia mountains from Metro-Atlanta, would be far enough for her to run? My stomach began to tingle and tighten from the thought. I shut my eyes for second or two, as I shook my head from side to side wildly. “No negativity”…I said to myself sternly, yet softly. I chose, in that moment to focus on two very prevalent and important things: Elle and Brown (Me)!

Suddenly, a soft cough, to clear my throat, escaped me. However, I couldn’t allow old demons and intuition to disrupt my weekend with my angel in any way, shape, or form! Brown would not be down with that…on any level. Elle was mine for that entire weekend, and I to quickly re-iterated the thought to myself, that nothing of this earth was going to tear her from my clutches—not a single thing! That is how much I desired, and needed her. As for those demons…well…they needed to beware, because I wasn’t having any of that nonsense. None…Whatsoever! Why this thought plagued me so…is anybody’s guess? Nonetheless, Mr. Brown had an objective to accomplish. This was our weekend, and possible prelude to a other possibilities—-filled with a lifetime of memories, in a sense, of course that was for moral). God in heaven, only knew, we both needed it—-that hellcat racing towards me, especially! From there I put my happy school boy face forward, and waited….most impatiently!

Finally—after those few moments of mental bliss, to myself, She looked over at me… quickly winked, gave that beauty queen of a wave—-that would melt any man’s heart, and turned slightly to click open the remaining doors of her fusion. I swear it felt like a seen out of “High Society”…I loved it! I, secretly, kept having to re-adjust myself: as I blushed liked a ridiculous school boy. Perhaps that was the true defining moment between us? Whatever the moment it was clear that no man on this earth could contain that much energy and feistiness…i.e. myself….Mr. Brown included. It Didn’t matter how much I would come to love this woman, no man would have her full undivided attention or commitment—EVER! Elle was her own woman, and she went her own way in life and love—-this I assessed early on in our reportee’ with each other.

The pragmatist in me wanted to keep my emotional distance, but this old school boy’s longing, and loneliness which stirred inside me…just cast caution to the wind. I wanted in on this adventure…well ok…that pure adrenalin rush! Needless to say, I bought a ticket for the “love train”, and it said hi “non-refundable”. I could have cared less…it was time to either “feast or famine”, no joke. No woman rattled my “man cage” like this girl…damn her! What would we make of all this emotional and sensual “pomp and circumstance’ together this particular weekend? Only fate and destiny had those answers…oh…and the good Lord above. Ssssshhhhiiiitttt….it was about to be on!

Still standing there with a boyish glee—-I inconspicuously undocked my dress shirt. If you know what I mean? I took two to three steps off the front porch, and before I could catch another breath that angel was in flight towards my direction. She ran towards me at top speed, smiling, with her arms stretching out to embrace me. Those schoolgirl eyes of hers instantly paralyzed my entire body. They were so warm; deep; and yet beckoning. I stepped forward, just a tad, laughing to myself. As I, continued, to gleam with anticipation my arms reached forward: catching her before she could stumble. I pulled her as close to my chest as possible, as I sighed simultaneously—then took in a huge deep breath. With my eyes completely shut, and the morning sun shining on us both I was too relieved—-and lost in the rapture be of the moment. My Elle was in my arms now, safe and sound, finally! Of course, I took a few more deep breaths, again (it was needed). The beauty in my arms gave me such a warm and tense embrace. My eyes closed tighter as I began to quietly quake and shiver from that embrace: afforded me by my “angel without wings” …as Jack Johnson would say. I held her there for as many seconds, as I could—-finally releasing her slowly in two to three second intervals. Couldn’t be helped—-that damn perfume—-and voluptuous silhouette was absolutely spellbinding!

Elle and I were living in that moment (we chatted often about it) ! I know the stubborn woman in her would not say it aloud, she knew it…and felt it ,as well. I came to the realization…right then and there…that I would stride with all my might to own and possess her…caution be damned! Truth be known…I needed her in my life—at that time—and at the ridge! The cost mentally or emotionally, at that point, was of no real consequence to me. I wanted what I wanted. However, I could not dismiss the small hole opening up in my gut. It was a warning that she would one day, soon, be in flight away from me. Of course, for that weekend I dared not to allow such a daunting possibility. In no way was I prepared to accept nothing but her lovely presence: with its breath of fresh air. Hell…even the “ridge” itself opened itself up to receive her burning light that morning. All of the old demons had better beware, and remain at bay. The weekend’s lady of the manner was now present, and accounted for.

After, all the pomp and circumstance of, Elle’s arrival we graciously wrapped ourselves around one another. We were both physically and emotionally submerged into each other’s space, by this time. Finally, I secured her little girly, pink and green, Ralph Lauren weekend bag into my free hand, chuckling like crazy! Because… it was just too damn girly to me for a woman of her caliber and taste, I thought (yet secretly loving it). Gently, I tucked Elle deep into my right arm the remainder of the journey: into the formal areas of the ridge. We literally waltzed over to the ridge’s entrance onto the veranda ,literally,walking on air. But for whatever reason Elle paused in front of the huge German styled door, gazed at her (the ridge) up and down. I frowned for a bit, as did she. Next thing I knew…down the stairs into the foyer we both went: with Elle, literally, leading the way. It was as if she had been a constant visitor to the ridge’s mountain retreat. What I witnessed left me in total awe: also, it left a beautiful mark on my memory.

The mid-day sun must have been awful jealous, because suddenly it began to beam its way into every nook and cranny of that mansion. It’s beautiful light and warmth lit up every inanimate object that surrounded us. My heart started to pound as I surreptitiously surrendered mansion’s quarter to Elle, affording her the opportunity to continue the rest of her journey through the ridge, alone. Her first stop, surprisingly, was up the spiral staircase onto the “master suite”. I could not believe the grace, ease, and confidence of this woman! If I had my way…I would have taken her right there. Thank goodness my cooler head prevailed, so to speak. That is not the manner a gentleman treat his southern belle. Still, I was absolutely enamored by how comfortable this woman was in her own skin. Fearless—is more correct discretion of her demeanor! You could tell by the look in her eyes that Elle was at home any mansion. I guess, looking back, it is befitting to say that weekend—Elle was the quintessential “Lady of the Manor”…my manor. No gentleman in his right state of mind could have resisted or not surrender himself to essence of that notion!

CRASH! Mr Chips rear ended the white Benz in front him: just before his exit. It broke his deep concentration of that weekend, and of course, of his “angel without wings—at least for that moment!

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