Short Stories

As Kayla approached the boards, she studied them with interest. They had no writing on them anywhere, not that she could see. Damn, maybe this wasn't the right place. But they looked exactly like the one in her dream, except for the writing. This had to be where she was supposed to find him.

Kayla didn't even question the surety that she was supposed to find this man, if she had thought about it too hard, she would have convinced herself that she was delusional. So instead she just accepted that he was there somewhere, waiting for her and she was going to find him.

"You!" a deep voice accused from behind.

Kayla whirled around and there he was. Ebony skin, dark sensuous eyes, kissable mouth, her dream man. Not quite the way she had imagined him, he was standing on the beach, dry, with his surfboard stuck in the sand beside him. His board was red and yellow, just like the one she had been looking at, except his had the word Instructor scrawled across it in black lettering. His dark eyes were narrowed and as accusing as his one word had been.

"It's you," Kayla whispered, taking a step forward, ready to claim him for her own. "And you know me, too?" she asked in wonder.

It was one AM when Jasmine slipped into the dark house. Dressed in a black cat suit and gloves, she blended with the shadows—not that anyone was around to spot her anyway.

She crept through the rooms, letting her senses guide her flawlessly through the lightless spaces clear as day. She made it to the bedroom and found the stone carelessly stuffed into a nightstand. Obviously Mr. Wellesley didn’t think the stone was that precious or priceless, or perhaps he was just that confident in his security. Jasmine couldn’t contain the scoff at his stupidity.

She held the unassuming thing up in the moonlight. It appeared to be nothing special—a smooth black stone about the size of her palm. But it was heavy, easily three times as heavy as it should be for the small size. It heated in her palm and she wrapped both hands around it, drawn to its warmth. The warmth soon spread up her arms and into the rest of her body. Jasmine closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of it, of the comforting warmth. It was like being held tight by a familiar lover.

“What the hell?”

Jasmine spun around, quickly stuffing the stone into the small pouch at her waist. Cole stood behind her in nothing but a pair of red silk boxers, his hair spiking around his head as if he had just gotten out of bed. His expression was one of total disorientation and shock, mixed with angry annoyance, all directed at her. “What the hell are you doing here and why are you dressed like that?” She went instantly to attack—always put them on the defensive.

“Jasmine? I don’t know, I was in bed asleep. I woke up feeling hot and then I was here. Where is here and what are you doing here?” He scowled around the dark room, a brow arching at the obviously sensual design of the place. “You are into some kinky stuff, Jasmine.” His eyes lit on the assortment of toys adorning one of the walls and he smiled. “Not that I mind.”

Where There's Smoke

"Actually, it started while I was sulking on the couch.” Cassie jumped up and paced back and forth. “It’s all David’s fault. If he hadn’t proposed to Tiffany, this never would have happened. He was supposed to come here tonight. I was making him a special meal. Now look at this place. It’s a mess.”

“Let me get this straight,” the fireman interrupted. “The fire was caused by a guy who wasn’t even here?”

House Calls

Every time he moved, her heart beat a little faster at the way his jeans hugged his backside. Polly shook her head to clear away her distracted thoughts. Checking out his butt was not on the agenda. Getting the roof fixed and the water stopped was. But then again, a nice view did tend to make the day go by faster.

Be My Valentine

What was wrong with her? Here she was about to spend time conferring with her daughter’s teacher, talking about a school party, and yet all she could think about were his blue eyes and the warmth of his hand when it covered hers. Mentally cursing herself, she patted a few loose strands of hair back in place and reached for the entry door. Sam rose as she walked toward the table.

 “Yes, boss lady.” Stewart watched her move to the far side of the kitchen. She pushed a chair toward a high shelf and climbed up to reach something. He studied her slender, sexy form. The red apron, covered in flour, made her even more appealing. He managed to pry his gaze away from the female distraction. Grabbing the ball of dough, he placed it inside the mixing bowl to let it rise. He followed Gloria to the tables and assisted with the preparation.

“Help me with the tablecloths. I want them to go this way.” She motioned with her hands.

“How do you like running the soup kitchen?”

There was a long, lengthy silence before she replied. “I love it. It’s good to know people are going to bed with a full stomach. I see the appreciation on their faces. It makes it worth the effort.”

“I can see that.”

Gloria used her hands to smooth out the creases on the cloth. “I guess next week you will be leaving?”

Stewart didn’t know how to respond. He enjoyed working in the kitchen and the many perks that went along with it. “I guess so.”

“You deserve much better than this. You’re use to the glamorous life, not slaving away over a hot stove. You really are out of your element. No pun intended,” she added.

Stewart couldn’t believe she made a joke. He knew deep down there was a fun side to her. “They replaced my post with a new bodyguard.”

“I’m sorry.”

He heard the sincerity in her tone.

“I’m sure something else will come along.”

Stewart wasn’t interested in something else. He wanted what he had right in front of him.

“Do you mind grabbing a wet rag from the kitchen? I want to wipe these tablecloths.”

He saluted her and headed straight for the other room. “Where are they?” he shouted.

“They are underneath the sink!”

Stewart pulled open every drawer beneath the sink. He located the clean rags in the very last cupboard. He grabbed one and soaked it under the faucet. While he was completing this task, he glanced across at the mixing bowl. His eyes widened. “Oh shit!”

“Is something wrong?”

Stewart panicked. He forgot to cover the dough. He heard her footsteps approach. “No, everything is fine!” He placed his hand in the sticky dough and pulled out a rat. He cursed his bad luck. “How the hell did you get up here?” His gaze followed the dishtowel that hung over the rack and dangled near the floor.

Gloria came around the corner. “How does the dough look?”

Stewart held the squirming rodent behind his back. “It’s fur-tastic,” he stuttered.

“What?” Her brow creased.

“It’s fantastic,” he corrected. Using his other hand, he threw her the dishcloth. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

She had a curious look on her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I need to step outside for a moment.” Happy that she didn’t pursue the questions, he watched her turn and head toward a table. Stewart grimaced at the large rat in his hand. He unlocked the back door and threw the dough-covered rodent outside. “Don’t come back,” he whispered. Relieved that he got rid of the evidence, he picked up the dough and tossed it in a pan. He quickly molded it to the shape of the container and placed it inside the oven. “What temperature should we bake it?”

Gloria immediately entered. “Did it rise?”

Sweat trickled down his forehead. “It was the best damn thing I’ve ever seen.” He hated to lie to her, but if she discovered what he did, the shit would hit the fan.

She instructed him on the temperature. “You’re sure working up a sweat.”

“I’m not use to the heat.” Stewart turned the dial on the oven. “I’ll help you with the tablecloths.” He brushed past and tried to act casual. “Why are we baking bread anyway? I thought this was a soup kitchen.”

She assisted him with the last table. “It is a soup kitchen, but I thought it might be nice to add a few other items to the menu. There’s nothing like warm bread to go with hot soup, especially on a cold day like today.”

Stewart tried not to think about the rat in the dough. He couldn’t imagine anyone eating it. “Can I help with anything else?”

“There is something I would like to try.”

He noticed she eyed him like forbidden fruit. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I think the cologne is getting to her.

She sniffed the air and blushed. “I want to make a stew.”

He didn’t know if he heard correctly. “What did you say?”

“I want stew for lunch.”

Stewart thought this was too good to be true. The woman finally wanted him. He placed a hand in her hair and gently stroked it. “I thought you would never ask. I knew you felt it, too.”

Gloria stared up at him wide-eyed. She reached up and slapped his arm. “I said I want to make a stew. I didn’t say I wanted to make out with you!”

He retaliated. “That’s an easy mistake to make. There’s been a sexual attraction between us since I started working here. Admit it, you feel it, too.”

Gloria didn’t say a word. She silently entered the kitchen.

Stewart followed. “You’re not as hard as nails, I know it.”

She pulled down a huge stockpot and proceeded to gather the ingredients she needed. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Boy, you must have been hurt in the past.”

She spun around and struck back. “For your information, I have been hurt before. And it wasn’t only one boyfriend. It was a whole bunch of them!”

The brothers were reveling in their glory when Moki posed a question that weighed heavily on his mind. "Do you remember the legend that our father told us long ago?"

Achak studied the twinkling stars in the sky. "What part are you talking about?"

Moki leaned over on his elbow. "I'm talking about our special powers of the wolf spirit. I remember father telling us that whoever possesses it, can also lose that power someday. Did he ever tell you how?"

Achak nodded. "He told me the secret. Why do you ask?"

Moki sighed in the shadows and stretched out on the ground. "Because of that woman we met today. She has a strong power over you. I felt it."

"I do care about her, and I'm determined to free her from slavery at whatever cost."

"The Badlaw brothers will be the hardest to defeat. They have been causing havoc for years. If we want to destroy them, we might lose ourselves. Are you willing to do that for Cheyanne?"

There was a long silence. "Yes, I'm willing to do that for her. What about you?" Achak glanced at his brother in the shadows.

"If it will make you happy and bring her unending joy, then I'm willing."

"We will alter her life, you know that, right?"

Moki nodded. "I realize that, but I'm willing to do it. I've never felt that kind of bond with someone before. I wish I had…"

Achak reached over and grabbed his hand. "I'm happy you are willing to risk your life for this."

"Brothers stand behind each other, no matter what."

Achak smiled. He couldn't find a better friend if he searched the ends of the earth for one.

They talked long into the night and reminisced about their wild adventures.

"We had some good times, brother," Moki said.

"Our adventures will never end," Achak added. "They will continue on into the next life. Can youimagine that?"

Moki yawned. "I will think about it while I'm dreaming. Good night, brother."

Achak stared up at the twinkling stars and thought about the challenges of tomorrow. He had to keep his wits about him. The Badlaw brothers were the toughest, meanest gang that ever lived. To defeat them would take every ounce of strength they could muster. He knew it was possible, if they surrendered their spirit.

He shined the light across the long hallway just off the entrance. To the right, a stairway led up to the second floor. Sage cautiously made his way into the musky smelling hallway and could feel how cold the inside of the house felt. It was almost a chilling feeling ten degrees cooler than outside. A shiver of apprehension raced down his spine. His instincts never failed him and tonight they were on high alert.

He could sense the body heat of the others following him and saw Jason light the flashlight he'd given him. Once everyone was inside, the door slammed shut without warning and a loud click reverberated throughout the room.

"What was that?" Sage knew the sound was the door locking and he also knew the door couldn't lock on its own. He turned his head just in time to see a strange white apparition floating past him. No, he decided his imagination must have been playing tricks on him. He didn't believe in ghosts. Just at the point of asking one of the others if they'd seen anything, Sage heard Summer scream.

"Let's get out of here, Sage!" Her blood curdling scream sent another wave of apprehension racing through Sage. She grabbed his arm and dug her nails into his skin.

The deck was also decorated in Halloween splendor, but much quieter. "This is better," he pulled a chair out for her to sit in. "My name is Rob."

"Angie." She took a small sip from her almost empty glass. "So, tell me Fireman Rob, if my hospital was ablaze, who would you rescue first? Me…or Old Lady Smithers in room 109?"

"That depends." He finished the beer in his glass and smiled. "What does she look like?"

"Oh, you are bad, Fireman Rob."

"You have no idea, Nurse Angie." His gaze slowly dropped to her neck, breasts, and hips. She watched his eyes as they ran the length of her long, tanned legs. She truly felt as though he was undressing her with his eyes. Her face reddened when she realized an excitement was building deep within her.

They made idle conversation and he bought her another drink. She hated to admit it, but she was enjoying his attention. He was watching her intently and she couldn't resist the urge to tease the ice cubes with the tip of her tongue. He moved his chair closer to hers and she could almost feel the warmth of his body.

Her attraction to this stranger was alarming. She forced herself back to reality. "You smell like smoke. Is that fire fighter outfit authentic?"

He laughed. "Yeah. I have a friend at a fire station. He loaned it to me."

Angie spied Paige peeking at her from the doorway. She flashed the thumbs up sign and went back into the bar.

"Would you like to dance?" He looked deeply into her eyes.

"Out here?"

"Sure. Why not?"

He had a deep, sexy voice. He took her hand and pulled her up. Before she could resist, she was in his arms. He held her lightly at first. The distant music was still audible and they swayed to its' beat slowly.

"You smell wonderful." He almost purred the words into her ear and it sent shivers down her spine.

He smelled good, too. Whatever cologne he was wearing was faint, and it made her want to be closer to him. His fingertips slid down the length of her arms until they finally rested on the small of her back. When he pulled her in, she was instantly aware of his muscular, hard body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her face up towards his.

"What are we doing?" Her eyes searched his for an answer.

He brought his face down closer to hers. His lips brushed against her cheek. A soft moan escaped from her throat as she met his mouth with her own. His tongue slid in to explore it. Rob's hands gently cupped her buttocks. Angie wasn't sure if her sudden desire was caused by her loneliness or the alcohol, but it wouldn't be denied.

He nestled his face in her neck, kissing a trail up to her ear. His mouth was hot and wet. "I want you," he whispered.

She pushed her hands inside his coat and ran her fingers across his chest. Then she brought them around to his back and pulled him closer. "I want you, too." She didn't know if she said it aloud or just imagined her response.


* * * *


Rob took a hold of her hand and led her back into the bar. They darted across the room, moving in and out of clusters of dancers and drinkers.

They paused in front of the elevators as Rob took the key card out of his pocket to read the room number. When the doors opened, he jumped inside, hastily yanking Angie in with him. He tapped the button for the fifth floor. Once the doors closed behind them, he pulled her into his arms again.

Rob pushed her up against the wall and buried his face into her neck. He slid his hand up her thigh and under her nurse's uniform. Tugging her flimsy panties to the side, he hurried to feel the flesh of her buttocks against his fingertips. Angie brought her leg up behind his and pulled him closer.

The traffic was light at such an early hour and jokes and laughter floated around the interior of the car. Somehow, Lacy felt safe now that Ryan sat only an arm length from her in the front seat.

“Lacy, grab one of the CD’s out of the glove box and put it in the stereo,” Ryan told her. “I can’t get anything on the radio but this country music. I’ve never been too fond of country, but that’s all they’re offering.”

“I know what you mean. Carol and I ran into the same problem on our last trip. Talk about boring.” While she talked, she placed the CD in and cranked the sound up filling the car with a current hit song.

Amid joking, laughing and singing the entire trip, the ride seemed shorter than Lacy remembered. It wasn’t long before she saw a sign along the highway with Salem printed on it.

Just on the outskirts of the small town, Lacy glanced at a car headed in the opposite direction. She thought for an instant her eyes were playing tricks on her, believing she saw Steve and Jason riding along in a hot rod at a fast rate of speed heading out of town. No, I have to be wrong. Surely, I’m imagining things. Steve and Jason were supposed to be in jail waiting for the court date that morning. But again, they could be out on bail waiting for the trial to begin.

Suddenly, there was a metal sound filling the air around them. Lacy glanced over her shoulder just in time to see the hot rod deliberately swerving toward a pickup truck. The truck tried to get out of the way of the car, but the driver wasn’t having any success. The truck spun out and flipped over a number of times before coming to rest on its top in the ditch.

I write this book from my heart for you to enjoy. It is my desire to share the love, hope and laughter that my animal friends have given me. My hope for this book is that it touches those who view their pets as family members and not merely a creature. That these stories shed light on the unbelievers and perhaps open their mind to new thoughts. And finally, that those who have lost a beloved family member find comfort in their grief through my stories.

Nothing or nobody has ever touched me, changed me or loved me as my animal companions have done. They've made me laugh and cry. They've humbled and impressed me. They've made my house a home and driven unwanted guests away. They've taught me how to love and how to forgive. They've made me want to pull my hair out when they misbehave like naughty children.

Most of all, they offered light in my darkness and made my world a better place. There is not a more perfect love than that of a pet. If you are lucky enough to have obtained this privilege then consider yourself blessed and give that loving friend a hug every single day. Treasure each fuzzywuzzy hug because you never know when that furry hug will be your last.