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Excerpt
Celestial Signs
Digest 1
Giving In To Love
By Ricci Love
Part One—Friends
The force of the
snowball tipped his head forward. The packed mass belted against the
back of Phillip’s head and disintegrated into a powdery cloud. A
familiar female giggle sounded from behind a pine tree. Right,
she is going to get it this time!
Ruby Charleston,
all rounded curves, bubbly, mischievous and a damn fine shot.
“Ruby, I’m gonna
get you for that!”
Her laughter rang
out, melodic and loud. “Any time you are ready, Flip,” her luscious
body bounded out from behind the tree. She grinned at him. White fur
surrounded her face from the hood of her jacket. Phillip dashed
toward her. Ruby turned and took off. Catching her in no time, he
lunged forward, and they flopped into the deep snow drift.
He scooped up a
generous handful and stuffed it down the front of her top, following
up quickly with another. The heat from her generous cleavage
practically burned his hand. She screamed out and laughed, all at
the same time.
“You’d do anything
to cop a feel!”
“Ah, you worked me
out.” Phillip jumped up and grabbed Ruby’s hand, pulling her up to
stand as well. “What’re ya doing out stalking me at nine o clock at
night?”
Pulling down her
jacket zipper, thrusting her chest forward, she shook her shoulders.
All the snow fell from her low cut top. “Don’t flatter yourself. As
a matter of a fact, I was out to find a tree to decorate. Seeing you
here is just a bonus.” Ruby's eyes shone in the flooded moonlight as
she zipped up again.
“A tree? Well, you
came to the right place.” He made a large gesture over the
beginnings of the tall pine forest.
“Gee, thanks
Einstein. I’ll be sure to call you next time I want the obvious
stated.” Ruby laughed and poked him in the arm. “I really wanted the
perfect tree,” she pouted.
“These are too big
for decorating at home.”
“Yup, that’s why
I’d just decided to go buy a fake one. Also they looked so lovely
growing here I just don’t have the heart to get Richard to chop one
down.”
Phillip almost
choked on his laughter. “Richard? Chop a tree down? Are you
kidding me? He might get his hands dirty. Does he even know trees
grow out here, I mean, in the dirt and stuff?”
“Not every man has
to be Neanderthal. Nothing wrong with a male looking after his
grooming.”
“I’m not a
Neanderthal. But a man can do something to get a little dirt under
the nails before they head for a weekly manicure.” He didn’t
really care about Richard Goldman’s personal habits; it was the way
he spoke about Ruby when she wasn’t there that pissed Phillip off.
The creep was a good actor, to get whatever he could and nothing
more. Phillip would’ve told Ruby, but he didn’t want to hurt her.
Apparently, she thought she was happy.
“He is good to me.”
“When he’s not
being an ass. You deserve better.”
“I’m fine. I can
take care of myself. Us Capricorns are survivors, aren’t we?”
“We are, Ruby. We
are. Stubborn and can’t admit when we are wrong either.” He watched
her mentally decide to ignore him and change the subject. Phillip
knew by her face, knew exactly how he reacted when backed into a
corner. It was either ignore or come out fighting. Her reddened nose
and cheeks gave her a delightful peaches and cream glow. Boy, she
was all woman. Something inherently sexual drew his need, but it was
about so much more than that. He felt his cock stiffen. Control
yourself!
* * * *
All in Good Time
By Jane Carver
Crash! Pop! Tinkle!
Screech!
Someone hit her
Ford Model T just behind the door.
Her face flew
forward and hit the wooden steering wheel.
Shattered glass hit
the side of the metal frame then landed with soft pinging plops in
the muddy road.
Tortured-sounding
metal squealed until the two automobiles stopped skidding sideways.
As soon as the
rocking motion stopped, Meredith opened her eyes then wished she
hadn’t. Her head throbbed where she smacked the steering wheel.
Reaching up, she gingerly fingered the bump developing over her
eyebrows.
Damn! My boss is
going to love me for this one!
She leaned her head back against the horsehair seat cover and
sighed. Two automobile accidents in less than a year. Where was the
justice? Barely thirty seconds passed but every bone in her body
already ached. Or were those aches left over from the first
accident?
A loud
frantic-sounding thumping on the car’s door scared her into opening
her eyes again. Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry.
“Are you all right,
Miss?” A young woman with round fear-filled eyes and tear-covered
cheeks leaned against the side of the car as she yelled at Meredith.
Before she could
answer, a large man in a dust-covered black Stetson stepped up
behind the woman. His craggy-looking face reflected anxiety but not
gut-wrenching fear like his companion. A cowboy, Meredith thought. A
real live cowboy.
Again the thumping
on the window. “You okay, lady?” The man’s baritone voice washed
over her and soothed some of her own fears. At least this time, she
remained conscious after the mishap.
Meredith reached
out and turned off the Ford, the engine surprisingly still chugging.
She nodded to the couple and then fought the long traveling coat
that seemed determined to bind her legs. As she reached for the door
handle, the man wrenched it open.
“Stay seated,
ma’am, until I can check you out.” He squatted by her open door and
ran an appraising eye over her for obvious injuries. The girl
hovered over his shoulder, too scared apparently to speak again. He
reached up and lightly touched the bump on Meredith’s forehead.
“I’m all right.
Really.” She sat up straighter and prayed her head would stop
spinning soon. Even without injuries, the shock of being hit
unnerved her. When the man looked like he wanted to argue, she
reached over and laid a hand on his arm. “Honest.” She waited long
enough for him to read the sincerity in her face before she
attempted to swing her legs out of the car. Despite her care, her
leg hurt, and she groaned.
She gathered her
long skirt and coat around her as she sat sideways in the seat
facing him. An early morning chill flowed into the once warm
interior. A tiny shiver ran down her spine. Her normally pale skin
lost more color; she could tell by the expression on the man’s face.
“Josey, maybe you
better hot-foot it back to the house and get Mike.”
“Okay, Uncle Ian.”
The girl stepped out rapidly and almost fell on a patch of slippery
mud. No sooner did she break into a run than the sound of a buggy
and horses broke the morning’s silence.
“Thank goodness.
No, don’t try to stand. Just rest there ‘til Uncle Mike gets here.”
The cowboy didn’t stand up, merely duck-walked a few steps forward
so he squatted eye-to-eye more or less with Meredith. As sore as she
was, she decided to humor him.
“What’s your name?”
The man’s bright eyes never left hers even when the girl slid into
his broad back.
“Sorry, hit a patch
of mud again. Just like grease around here.”
“Watch it, Josey.”
He gave her a look over his shoulder. “And Mike is giving you the
once-over when he gets here, too.” The girl started to protest. He
held up one hand to stop her objection. Even if that didn’t get the
message across, the fiercely protective expression on his face said
she would be wasting her breath.
* * * *
Tasty Temptations
By Mae Powers
Chapter One
Like a coruscating
beacon, the igloo-shaped, three-tiered building—made of a pearly
material—shone brightly in the night sky. A glittering neon sign
blaring the establishment’s name, Throttles, complemented the
sparkling, ruby-trimmed, triangular-shaped glass windows. Blinking
lights and the sporadic beats of music emanated from the nightclub’s
interior and rattled the mosaic windows intermittently. The gaiety
and wonder tempted Thela Montgomery inside its walls.
Thela stepped
through the circular doorway, opened by a tall, thin
doorman/bouncer. She entered a long, tubular tunnel, which led into
an enormous area filled with a throng of liveliness. What looked
like a three-story building on the outside, turned into three
semi-opened floors of people, bars, and tables occupying them.
Spiral stairs led up to all three floors, as did glassed-in
elevators. In the midst of the huge area lay a big circular dance
floor with twirling lights flickering from the radiant flooring.
Above the dance
floor, on two air levels, disc-dancers stomped and swayed
rhythmically to various tempos on hover platings. To her near left,
just a few feet away, stood the club’s main bar, semicircular in
shape and teaming with life from sound-masters to various alien
clienteles. Thela glanced around the area, hoping to spy her college
friend, whom she was to meet here for a short while before she left
to go visit her other friend Reema.
Reema’s birthday
party was set for later that night. Which actually made her and
Reema closer as friends. Their birthdays were both in July. Although
Reema’s people called the month another name, they had similar
astral signs. She and Reema were Cancers, or as Thela preferred,
Moon Children. Such a nicer zodiac name than Cancer the Crab, and
much better suited to her real characteristics, Thela thought.
She knew at times
she could be moody, slightly self-conscious, occasionally
indecisive, and sometimes over emotional, but she liked to think her
passionate nature and natural caring toward others offset her
negative qualities. At least she wasn’t inconsiderate. Anyway she
hoped not.
Her other friend
wasn’t the same sign, but then Preterra wasn’t really a friend, more
like a friendly acquaintance. When Preterra learned that Thela
wanted to take a vacation, the alien female told her to come here. A
large distance between herself and her ex-lover Jake Harris was
great by Thela. Jake had wanted her to take him back, but that was
not what she really wanted. So, taking an extensive vacation from
both her jobs, to get her life back in order and just have some fun,
became a strong incentive for Thela. It also fell near her birthday,
which Jake always managed to forget.
Thoughts of her ex
slipped from her mind as a couple getting on dance discs rushed past
her and pushed her aside. They were tall and thin, nearly identical
in their looks, with long stringy blue hair, sparkling pink eyes and
wearing similar sky-blue party tunics and pants. The female had
breasts jutting heavily forward beneath her clothing, and her
braided blue hair had streaks of gold in the plaits. Thela grinned,
and quickly moved out of the way, as the couple jumped on their
discs and floated upward to the top level of the dance floor.
She’d dealt with a
few people of the Nalean race, like the two dancers who nearly
toppled her over. They were a constant-on-the-move people, and
evidently, by their twists flying above, they liked to dance modern
dances. She shook her head, not letting their rudeness get to her.
She glanced around and saw other couples and groups in various areas
around the huge entertainment club, all apparently enjoying
themselves.
She shrugged her
shoulders, and being careful where she stepped, she made her way
through the crowd to sit at the long, main bar.
* * * *
To Judge Or Not
To Judge
By Taylor Evans
Chapter One
“Mother, I have no desire to become a fire-judge!”
“Miree, there’s been one in the family for generations.”
There’s always a chance I won’t be picked,” Miree protested softly,
not wanting to disappoint her parent.
She moved away from the breakfast counter to turn and look at the
older Faeken, who stood cleaning their cornucopia bowls in the old
sink. As usual, the woman glanced dreamily out the wide window, with
its flower-laced curtains fluttering happily with the open breeze.
Although she had the slender build of the other Faeken woman and the
fire-gold hair, there the looks ended between Miree and Emla, her
mother. The older female was dainty like most Faeken women. Taking
after her father’s darker good looks, Miree knew her blazing red
hair and dark skin were an exotic appearance. She thought her mother
beautiful with the same hair coloring and fair skin, but liked her
own difference, feeling she got the best from both parents.
Another thing she got from her mother, luckily, were the metallic
gray eyes instead of the chocolate brown ones that her father and
brothers had. Both her brothers took after Emla in fair hair and
soft brown skin, but had their father’s dark brows and eyes. Her
father, one of the most prominent members of the ruling
Fire-Council, stood tall like Miree and her brothers. Fire-Libraens
like her parents, her brothers and herself, were a mix of two
different Faeken races.
The Dark Flamers and Sunfaers used to rule the entire world of Faek.
Her father’s ancestry went back to the very beginning of the Dark
Flamers, of which there were still a few left; her mother’s, though,
was a mix of the Sunfaers and a third of the original races of
Faeken. Little was known of The Freth, or if any survived the Great
Migration when all races mixed over a certain period of centuries.
The First Fire-Council came from the three races, but Fire-Judges
were kind of unique in a sense. Most Faekens believed in the
celestial birth signs and that each individual was born under one
for a reason. It never failed, that no matter the background of the
Fire-Judges or which race they were descended from, the individual
always seemed to be a Libraen, the seventh in the celestial signs of
the Faeken’s zodiac legacy.
Being the oldest child born to her parents and being the only
current Libraen in the family beside her distant cousin Zeemr, it
was her hereditary duty to try out for one of the two openings
coming available on the Fire-Judge Panel. Since her father was one
of the ruling members of their township’s Fire-Council, he was
ineligible to be a Fire-Judge. Many referred to the Fire-Judges as
Balancers of Justice. She hated that moniker and still didn’t want
to be on the judicial panel.
Miree believed in justice for all. Even though she was born under
the Libraen sign of justice and balance, she didn’t think herself
the type to judge people well enough. She liked her artistic freedom
too much to think about being a judge. And if she were to get picked
as a judge, she wouldn’t have time to make her fire sculptures and
artwork. That was one of the reasons she no longer lived with her
parents. The two were not Libraens but born under different
celestial signs and their personalities were more conservative.
Though her sign was often thought to be the apex of the year’s
seasons, and the meaning of life on-going into better things, she
knew that her changeable nature often made others think she might be
a moon-child sign. She thought herself fair-minded, graceful and
artistically appreciative toward others and in her own endeavors,
but knew she could also be unpredictable and often easily
susceptible regarding what others wanted or said. Perhaps it was
just her empathic nature to read the happiness others wanted or the
sadness they felt.
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