For Love of Arilee, Herbert Grosshans

Is the love of a human boy for an alien girl strong enough to bridge the gap between two different species? 

Cruise for Desire, Linda White-Francis

On a cruise to Cancun, a younger man puts the wind back in spinster Teri Blanchester's sails. Can they find love on a turbulent sea?

Fairy Tears, Jane Carver

What's a fairy to do when diseased dragons threaten her world, and she supposedly holds the answer to a cure? Only she doesn't know what that answer is.

The Letter: A Love Fulfilled, Sophie del Mar

After a night of passion, Larissa never forgot the handsome man who captured her imagination. Will a heartfelt letter rekindle their love?
 

EXCERPTS

For Love of Arilee
by
Herbert Grosshans 

Chapter One

The two men watched from their hiding place as the herd of shaggy-coated animals moved through the valley. The adults herded the younger ones into the center of the great sea of brown backs to protect them against the Keeras, the six-legged ferocious predators that even the Humans and Jnaar feared. The stomping hoofs created a yellow cloud of dust and the smell of their wet coats hung heavy in the crisp air.

“I spoke to old Stasra. He thinks we will get more snow this winter, more than we ever had before.”

Poul glanced at his friend. “Why would he think that?”

Raark shaded his eyes as he squinted against the setting sun. “Because the Ikkaraa have thick pelts. He’s never seen them this thick before.”

“Then it must be so,” Poul nodded. “Stasra is very old and wise. He’s the one who welcomed my great-grandfather and his people into your tribe. Without him the Humans may not have survived their first winter.” He grinned. “And I wouldn’t be here to teach you the fine art of getting out of doing certain chores.”

“That is true.” Raark agreed and chuckled. Looking again at the darkening sky, he said, “I think we better start our journey back. It will be dark soon.”

Paul reluctantly ripped his eyes away from the moving giant herd. “To bad we couldn’t get one of the smaller ones,” he said.

“Unless you want to be trampled to death by the cows and bulls, I wouldn’t suggest you go down there.” Raark rose and picked up his bow. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe.” Poul reached for his own bow. Hesitating, he stared into the valley. “Look over there,” he said to Raark. “On that rock shelf.”

Raark followed Poul’s pointing finger, his thin brows knitting tightly above his large purple eyes. “Is that a body?” he asked.

“I think so.” Poul peered at the protruding rock halfway down the cliff not too far away from them. “I can’t make it out clearly in this dust cloud, but that is not an animal. I see bare arms and legs sticking out of the furs.”

“That’s a long way down, a long fall, Poul,” Raark mused. “Whoever it is won’t be alive.”

“We can’t assume that. I’m going down.” Poul rummaged through his backpack, brought out a rope.” Give me yours. If we tie them together I should have enough to let me reach that shelf.”

Raark wrapped part of the rope around his body, held it as Poul climbed down the cliff. He found enough crevices and protrusions to dig in his toes and fingers, but the rope gave him a sense of security. As he came closer to the still body on the small shelf, he realized it was the slim body of a girl.

A Sras girl.

He couldn’t tell if she had any broken bones. Bending down, he gently turned her head. His fingers touched the large purple welt on her ridged forehead and the dried blood surrounding it. When he checked for a pulse on her neck, he found a faint throbbing.

“Is she alive?” Raark wanted to know.

“I think so.” Poul craned his neck to look up at his friend. “It’s a girl.”

“A girl? Who?”

“Nobody we know, because she is Sras.”

There was a moment of silence. “Sras?”

“Yes.”

“Be careful. This may be a trap. Don’t trust a Sras.”

“She is unconscious and represents no danger.” Poul bent down again and studied her face. He had never seen a Sras girl this close before and her delicate beauty surprised him. “I’ll bring her up,” he called. “Hang on to the rope.”

Carefully picking up the girl, Poul slung her across his shoulders and began the treacherous climb up. Even though she proved to be light, she seemed heavier the higher he climbed. The warmth of her exposed naked belly against the skin of his arm confirmed that she was still alive. By the time he reached the top and let her slide from his shoulders, he was gasping for air.

“A Sras girl,” Raark commented. “I hope she’s worth the trouble.” He bent and pulled back the fur to bare her chest. “She’s got nice breasts,” he said.

“What did you think you would find?” Poul asked, trying not to stare.

Raark shrugged and covered her up again. “She’s a Sras. Did you know what she looked liked underneath those furs?”

“I didn’t, but why should she look different?” Poul kept staring at her face, smitten more and more by her beauty.

“What should we do with her?” Raark asked.

“We can’t leave her here. We’ll have to take her with us.” Poul observed a slight tremor running across the girl’s eyelids. “I think she’s waking up.”

As he spoke, her eyelids fluttered open. Moaning softly, she lifted her head and brushed one slim arm across her eyes.

Both men took a step backward when she sat up.

The girl’s eyes grew large when she became aware of them and she let out a stifled scream. Struggling to get to her feet, she faltered, one of her legs gave away and she fell onto her side.

“Don’t be scared,” Poul said soothingly. “We’re not going to hurt you.” He knew she didn’t understand him.

“I think her leg is injured. Maybe it’s broken.” Raark said.

The girl tried to get up again. When she failed, she began crawling away on her knees, mewling softly and crying out, evidence of her pain and fear.

Poul stepped in front of her to block her escape, bent and grabbed her shoulders. She struggled to get away, hissing something in her language. She lashed out with one hand, her clawed fingers scratching his bare arm, but he held her tight. “I won’t hurt you,” he said urgently, looking into her golden eyes.

Her lips curled into a snarl, exposing two short, but sharp fangs.

Letting go of her, her jumped back, stood with his arms apart, his hands open.

“She’s a wild female Keeras,” Raark said. “I’ll say we let her go, before she kills one of us.”

“She’s injured,” Poul said. “She won’t get far. Without weapons she’ll be easy prey for the predators.”

As if to underscore his words, the sudden roar of a Keeras echoed through the valley. Another answered. I sounded much closer, too close to ignore.

“Perhaps her companions are still nearby. She wouldn’t have traveled alone. I can’t believe they would just abandon her.” Raark looked around. “We can’t wait much longer,” he warned. “The predators are moving in. Unless she comes freely, we’ll leave her behind.”

“Get our Heeskas,” Poul said and circled the girl, who followed his moves with large eyes and drawn-back lips. One of her legs dragged on the ground as she moved her body in a tight circle. She hissed and uttered a series of harsh-sounding syllables. Clearly a warning.

Poul crouched and reached toward her injured leg, speaking softly, his hand open. “I just want to examine your leg,” he said and smiled.

Cocking her head to one side, she curled up her lips, but didn’t object when he touched her booted foot. She winced when he loosened the bindings and pulled off the furry boot. When he touched the swollen ankle, she cried out.

“I think you broke it,” he said and looked into her eyes. “You’ll never make it anywhere with this injury. Let me help you.” He turned when he heard the sharp clacking of the Heeskas’ beaks.

Raark sat astride one of the giant bird’s broad back, the reins of Poul’s steed in his hand. “It is getting dark, Poul,” he said. “We have no time to loose.”

Poul rose, went to pick up his bow and slung it across his shoulder, then he swung himself onto the bird’s back. Riding up to the watching girl, he held out a hand. “Come,” he said, hoping she would understand the gesture.

The girl looked at the darkening sky, shivered when an angry roar rang out below them.

“Come,” Poul said again.

She rose, putting her weight on one leg, and stood waiting, an anxious look on her face. Poul slid off the bird’s back, pulled it behind him until the Heeska stood beside the girl. He motioned for her to climb on, but she shook her head and pointed to her injured foot.

“Alright, I’ll help you,” he said,” but don’t scratch out my eyes.” He picked her up and put her onto the bird, then he swung himself behind her.

“Finally,” Raark said and began to trot away. “I would have left without you, you stubborn fool,” he called back over his shoulder.

“I know you would have,” Poul called back and grinned, knowing his friend would never have done that.

Cruise For Desire
by
Linda White-Francis

Chapter One

Her head still in a marshmallow whirl, Teri got home half expecting to find herself waking up in her bed the next morning instead of galumphing through the door of her apartment at two in the morning. Deceptively this rousing evening’s objets d’art was surely meant to be lived by Cinderella or someone much younger than she is because it all went so perfectly. Veracity intact and clued-up, she had no right to believe any of it was true, but it did happen, and it happened to her, and David really was real. She’d thought she had been dreaming.

The willowy redhead had never felt so happy, so far, above the ground. Her feet had not made contact with the ground yet; her dreamboat sailed in and docked to her heart-forever she prayed, and knocked wood. He’s a lifeline for my battered spirits; thankfully, my muse has taken pity upon me tonight instead of casting me to the wind to drown in my own tears. Half drunk on passion, Teri smiled at herself in the hall mirror before kicking off her spike heels. Running her champagne besotted tongue over her white teeth, she continued to savor David’s crepe Suzette kisses still clinging to her lips.

David seemed everything she had ever wanted. She learned that quickly-in one heavenly night of dining, dancing and talking. Well, kissing, petting and caressing too. She learned that she could be turned on more by this fantastic human being’s loving ways than a month of silly erotic dreams. And that was almost unbelievable. It was weird how rapidly their individual souls ignited and united under the quiet, black skies illuminated only by the obtrusive lighting of the restaurant’s parking lot. Will I wake up tomorrow feeling the same way I feel now or will this be it? Guess only tomorrow will tell.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” kept racing through her jumbled thoughts. It was the last thing David said before she blew him a kiss and drove off leaving him looking lost in thought. A touching sight and one that gave her heart a lustful flutter. What if he doesn’t though? I’ll get over it. That’s what! It has happened before. I lived. She answered her own question defiantly, but something made her believe David told her the truth.

Sincerity was evident in his large onyx eyes and on his tender, full lips as he took her in his muscular clenches kissing her deeply goodnight against the cold metal door of her van, and again after he lifted her gently inside. In fact, calling her again was written all over his lofty, lean, build. “Maybe he will,” she yawned “At least I have tonight for the rest of my life,” she sighed a bit too dramatically considering how long she had known the young man, all of one date, not counting the couple days she’d babysat him when she was sixteen years old.

Suddenly exhausted she stripped to her undies and climbed into bed drifting off immediately-contented for now with such a romantic interlude with this man eight years her junior. A gift from the gods, her friend Gina called it.

Teri fumbled for the ringing phone at her bedside “Uh hello,” she croaked, bleary-eyed.

 “Hi Teri, did I wake you, sleepy-head? You sound a little groggy yet. Want me to call you back?”

 “Oh. Hi David, what time is it?” She grabbed her watch off the nightstand. 7 AM, um that’s promising. And I was afraid he might change his mind about calling. “No Hun, it’s okay, I was just getting up anyway. She fibbed because Sunday mornings were usually reserved for sleeping in until at least ten o’clock.

“It’s early I know, but I just couldn’t wait any longer to call. I got to tell you last night was incredible. I am still reliving it. I want you to know I am dying to see you again, soon as possible.” David ran on excitedly.

Now I am dreaming. I need a cup of coffee quick. This guy isn’t kidding. I love it!

“I can’t wait either,” Teri said sweetly shaking herself awake, dispersing the imaginary cobwebs from her head to her toes. Tiptoeing quietly to the kitchen so as not to let David know he had jolted her from a dead sleep, she made a cup of instant coffee although she hated the taste. But under the circumstances, it wasn’t as noisy as brewing a full pot. The instant would give her leg-up, enough time to make some sense of this unbelievable situation.

“Do you think I could pick you up around noon for a picnic in the park? I will bring everything,” David asked. “It will be deli, of course, and all in little white boxes. I don’t cook, but I guarantee it will be tasty. I know this great little neighborhood place around the corner.” He got quickly to the point as usual. “C’mon, it’s going to be a beautiful sunny day. What do you think? I want to see you before I have to shove off. I have a couple of business trips back to back”

“Hey, that would be wonderful. I haven’t been on a picnic in years,” recalling her last picnic with Dom, her former fiancé, several years back. It started to rain the minute they put out the fried chicken and potato salad she’d prepared from scratch.

The fiasco turned the uptight supposedly intelligent professor into a raging idiot, and he blamed her for insisting they go on a picnic in the first place especially when the forecast called for showers.

“How long you going to be at sea?” She had to know, holding her breath for his answer.

“Around two weeks give or take, but I promise I will back in time for our cruise to Cancun in August. I wouldn’t miss it for anything!”

“Good, I wouldn’t want to go without you. Remember you talked me into it, Mr. Sexy Voice!”

“I remember,” he snickered. “I will be there. Don’t forget you are my dream come true. I am going to show you the best time of your life.”

David arrived with tulips and a bottle of Dom Perignon. Hum, odd he should bring something called Dom. Hope it isn’t a bad omen. However, Teri was glad now she asked him this morning to come an hour later than originally suggested. She was feeling better-late nights showed on her face. On the other hand, David looked fantastic, rested and young Teri felt as if her under-eye puffs were just starting to go down.

Lumbering past, making himself right at home, he called, “For later when we get back,” he raised the bottle with one hand, dropping the flowers on the kitchen table. “Nice place you’ve got here. Comfortable,” David said scoping out the living room she’d decorated in early American detail. Teri wide-eyed and flattered, raced to his side happy to see him, and on tiptoe kissed his suntanned cheek.

“Thanks, I like it. I’ve lived here ten years.” He smelled of fresh linen and a hint of expensive cologne, like sheets dried outside in the summertime scented later with lilac water. No doubt, a Chinese laundry did his shirts.

He looked scrumptious in his designer Lacoste shirt, which showed off his muscled arms and hard-tack abs. Those just right baggy cargo shorts drooping fashionably from his lanky waist looked hot. “Here, let me put those in water before we go,” Teri suggested, fetching a vase from the cupboard above the kitchen sink. “These are beautiful. How’d you know tulips are my favorite flower?”

“I had a feeling. They’re beautiful and demure just like you.”

Teri smiled crookedly, not exactly believing his schmoozy compliment. David gazed intently into her unwary, seaweed green eyes. He sure can make me blush. So far so good. She relaxed.

“Well guess we should be going,” he stroked her face tenderly as he spoke and gathered her in his long, inviting arms and kissed her intensely, as he had done so many times the night before.

Teri’s knees felt weak. Breathing became difficult as the kiss went on unendingly until it was time to go. When she regained composure-not wanting to turn herself over to him just yet, she broke free of his loving embrace, pulling him towards the door coquettishly.

“You’re right. We should be going. The day is half over already,” she reminded him remembering her tote bag on the coffee table. “Can’t forget this,” she giggled, “it has my life in it.” She winked.

“You’re so funny. I love the way you make me feel. It’s as my life is brand new, and you are the only one in the world I want to be with. What’s in that big purse anyway? The kitchen sink?” He smiled broadly.

“Nope, I brought the stove instead. I decided to cook you dinner.” They laughed hard, causing her to lose her balance and trip on a loose board on the stairs.

“Oops, I got you,” David lunged, seizing her arm securely before she tumbled embarrassingly to the sidewalk below.

“Close call,” she flushed. “Thank you, love. You saved me from a nasty fall.”

“My pleasure, Ma’am.” David sighed, giving her a big hug when they reached the bottom then directed her safely to his stunning black Mercedes sports car.

“Nice car.” She blinked, rolling her eyes. “I feel like a princess.”

“You are my queen, not a mere princess.”

“You make me feel like one too,” Teri remarked shyly as she sat in the comfortable seat and fastened her seatbelt.

The unlikely couple found a beautiful spot at Oakridge Park under a huge oak tree. “It must be a hundred years old,” David marveled taking in the beautiful old tree. “This blanket goes back a long way,” he commented spreading the soft, red and black Indian woven blanket over the acorn laden ground. “My parents bought it out west on their honeymoon at an Apache Reservation. It’s gone on a lot of picnics and camping excursions over the years.”

“It is handsomely worn,” Teri said pulling out protruding acorns from under the blanket precisely in the spot where she wanted to sit.

“Ironically, I kind of stole it from them when they retired to Arizona three years ago.” He stretched long over the blanket to sweep away some fresh-fallen acorns. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved!”

“Let’s eat then,” scampering back to the car like a squirrel retrieving three unwieldy white, plastic bags and a small cooler of soft drinks. “I don’t want you to do a thing, just let me do the honors,” he said motioning her to sit tight and relax.

Out of the sacks came little white boxes of coleslaw, chicken salad, deviled eggs, baked beans, German potato salad, barbequed beef and fresh baked buns. “Here, have a paper plate. My china was all in the dishwasher,” he kidded. She took one and some plastic utensils while David poured her a Coke. “I love to see you smile. Where have you been all my life? You make me happy just watching you,” he said, leaning close to grab a quick kiss before digging into the feast. They ate without a word, David wolfing down food as she had seen him do last night, his eyes telling her more than his words could do with his mouth so full.

Teri ate too quickly and was stuffed to the gills when finished.

David apologized for being such a pig. “I skipped breakfast.” He took a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders trying to regain his good graces “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Sorry.”

Teri wasn’t put off by his lack of etiquette; in fact, she found it reassuring. David’s less-than-perfect manners made him seem genuine. Which put her at ease.

 “I brought dessert-Apple Brown Betty. Want some?” he asked.

“No, but you go ahead. Maybe later I will.”

“Later, that would be good,” he reconsidered and lay down crosswise on the Indian blanket instead, nestling his heavenly head into the hollow of her lap. “Teri, I think I am falling in love with you,” he murmured languidly, gently tracing her lips with the point of his index finger. “I cannot wait for the cruise,” he emphasized the word ‘cannot’.

Teri felt excitement mounting within her and wasn’t quite sure what she should do next. Maybe suggest they go back to her place for dessert. What next she didn’t know? Does he really love me or is it just passion? A woman can never tell about a man. I am feeling the same way though.

“I’m going to miss you while you are away,” Teri nearly cried, stroking David’s smooth, sun-kissed face. “But I’ve got some shopping to do while you are working.” She remembered the stylish sales clerk at the mall not long ago who was ready, willing and able to help her pick out a few dozen outfits. “Never fear. I’ll be ready to go by the time you get back, but right now, my wardrobe is not in very good shape. All I own are business suits and casual wear like the Capri’s and tank top I have on.”

“You’d look great in anything,” he stretched aloft, thrusting his long fingers into the back of her hair, lithely touching his moist, ripe lips to hers. “I’ll call everyday, darling,” he breathed heavily, “I am going to miss you like crazy too, but I will be back before you know it, and we will be on our way.” Sitting up, he seized her and held her so close she lost her breath. “Now tell me, woman, what’s in the big purse?”

Teri had almost forgotten she’d brought him a gift, something to remember her by. “Oh gosh, I’m so forgetful,” she sputtered, unzipping the tote. “Here, I hope you don’t think I’m weird or anything. It’s just so you won’t forget me while you’re gone.”

David unrolled the blue tissue paper slowly.

“A mohair teddy bear. How’d you know? Sweetheart, I’ve collected antique teddy bears since I was a kid. This is uncanny. I am stunned.”

“Lucky guess,” Teri had no idea David liked bears. “Something to hug when I’m not around. I made it a few years ago when I was into teddy bear reproductions.” She shook her head in disbelief. “This is a replica of an old Steiff, originally produced throughout the early nineteen hundreds.”

“I know, I know. You did a great job. I could hardly tell the difference. Thank you. He’s going to have a lot of company. I must have at least sixty old bears sitting on shelves made especially for them.”

* * * *

“Whee! I love these steep hills. My stomach feels like it’s dancing the limbo when the car goes over them. What a beautiful place Lancaster is.” Teri tittered, pushing her wind-blown tendrils out of her eyes.

David drove over the roller coaster knolls like a man on a quest for truth. He slipped his arm around her shoulder pulling her into his strapping chest.

Teri settled in as content as the still grazing cows in the pastures overlooking the aged city. “The lights coming on below are spectacular, like twinkling stars.”

“It’s a magical night, isn’t it, love? Let’s get home.” David kissed the top of her head lightly, taking off like a bat out of hell in the car.

“Back to my place for a nightcap?” Teri asked hopefully.

“Sure.” David replied and headed the car for Teri’s house.

* * * *

  “Here’s to Cancun,” Teri clinked David’s glass boisterously, so happy they decided to come back to her apartment.

  “Here, here. Down the hatch,” he gulped wide-eyed. “I’ll have some more of that Brown Betty dessert if there’s any left,” he handed her his plate coyly “Dessert is my weakness,” he winked.

“Uhum, I am going to miss those sweet kisses,” she teased tapping his chin lightly. How can I let him leave me so soon, but I have to let him go. If David only knew how I need him, he’d probably never come back.

At ten, David cupped her pale, heart-shaped face between his sinuous hands and ruefully nipped her goodbye. “Gotta go, my sweet, but it won’t be for long. I’ll call.” He stood in the doorway for a moment, oblivious to her fragileness and then headed out. Teri hid her tears until he had gone. Surprisingly one thing she learned that full day of getting to know each other better; David was a perfect gentleman and wasn’t rushing her into anything.

His brand of devotion made her feel inimitable and mysteriously desired, albeit not yet bedded. If it weren’t so late, she would call her friend Gina. Teri mulled that over, deciding it was indeed a bad idea. She’s going to freak-out tomorrow when I tell her about my incredible weekend!

* * * *

Teri was right, Gina freaked big time when she told her. “ Wow, things sure heated up fast. When you getting married?” Gina pulled her leg. “I swear what a stroke of good luck. This guy sounds heavenly. Is he rich, too? That really would be perfect.” Gina guffawed loudly, embarrassing Teri.

“Shush. I don’t want to play this thing up too much, considering my track record with men. Let’s just keep this between the two of us. Okay?” Teri hedged her work friend’s question concerning David’s financial worth. As far as she knew, he was a travel agent working in his family’s business: Sunny Days Travel Inc. “I don’t think he’s struggling by any means in light of where he lives and the car he drives,” Teri confided.

“You went to his place?” Gina sucked air so hard, Teri worried she would choke to death.

“No, we didn’t, Miss Nosey. We went to my apartment, and nothing happened. However, he lives out near the PGA golf course and mentioned he owned a condo in Conner’s Park. And anyone can lease a Mercedes,” Teri bore out, feeling wackier by the minute. “Yeah, for a hefty sum of dough anyone can rent his dreams,” Gina gnashed on. “Doesn’t matter really. David sounds like a keeper.”

“A keeper, yeah right. Let’s wait and see. Talk to you at lunch. I have a mountain of briefs to go through for Mr. Luther. Oops, there goes my phone.” Gina puffed out her bottom lip and retreated to her own desk. “Ms. Blanchester speaking. How may I help you?” Teri answered professionally. It was David bidding her goodbye; he was off to the airport.

“See you soon, sweetheart.”

Teri shook her head in awe. She couldn’t believe it. He called. Maybe there would be more good times ahead or at least a fantasy or two to languish over later. He sounds as sad as I feel. Foreboding emptiness followed, and Teri squeezed back the stinging tears clouding her sinuses. I can’t cry. He’ll think I’m ridiculous. I just met him.

“Have a safe trip, David.” I love just saying his name. “See you when I see you, Hun,” Teri cleared her throat.
 

Fairy Tears
by
Jane Carver

Beyond man’s vision in Real World laid Other World, home to immortals. Or at least, it used to be before insanity claimed every dragon in Other World. Now the winged creatures threatened the existence of those who lived forever—under normal circumstances. Normal being peace and quiet with few squabbles.

Three months before, when life had been normal, a young dragon drank from the Lake of Lichet as he had done every week. A dragon’s life cycle depended on the healing waters of the lake. Instead of being revitalized, the youngster grew irrational within a week then began a reign of terror over the nearest villages. Soon, every dragon on the planet showed the same signs of madness. Elves, were-folk, fairies, vampires, and unicorns—residents of Other World—watched the skies for the ominous sight of flapping wings and hid from killing dragon’s breath.

No one knew how to cure the beasts, once revered as rulers and kings with unicorn advisors. Dragons now terrorized the countryside. If a treatment weren’t found soon, there wouldn’t be much left of Other World.

* * * *

“Bowstanth?” Tilla, the fairy, circled the burned-out structures, her cough slowing her for a moment. Her wings flapped twice as hard in air thick with soot. Smoke still rose from homes the dragon, Encid, had set on fire. “Bowstanth Beech, answer me.” More scared than mad, Tilla lighted on a piece of board only to lift off immediately, the heat too much for her tiny feet. Agitated, she flew higher into the night sky to get a better idea of how much of the village remained.

She had found her vampire friend’s house in cinders, his mother and father dead within. But Tilla couldn’t find Bo and that worried her. He never left the house until the sun set beyond the forest. Dragons favored twilight as a time to attack. Bowstanth had to be somewhere in the rubble.

“Bo?” Tilla moaned. Afraid her best friend was gone forever, she hovered over first one pile of smoldering debris then another. Her erratic flight eventually took her to the edge of the village.

Light from the full moon set the shiny needles on the fir trees sparkling like a million diamonds. The dazzling display only emphasized the tragedy of the burned homes and dead bodies, scattered in doorways and streets.

Bright light grew in the shadow beneath a large fir, not far from the edge of the last house. With sudden understanding, Tilla flew as fast as fairy wings could to meet Bowstanth.

No sooner had the vampire stepped from the magical doorway he used to go between Real and Other World than he felt a tiny pair of arms wrap tightly around his neck…or, at least, as tightly as the arm span of a being only two inches tall could.

“Tilla! What a nice surprise. I didn’t think to see you until later tonight.” Bo opened his hand, palm up, so Tilla could light there. His back to the village, he did not understand Tilla’s great agitation. Pacing back and forth across Bowstanth’s palm, she tried to decide how to break the bad tidings of his parents’ deaths as gently as possible.

Bo laughed at her. “That tickles, Tilla. Be still.”

“You know I can’t. Never have been one like you.” Tilla reminded Bo once again that he never fidgeted, paced or wrung his hands when anxious or afraid. Unlike Bo, Tilla never stayed still.

“Bo, I have something to tell you.”

“All right.” Bo lowered his long lean body to a log and put up his thumb. Tilla leaned against it for support. Years they’d spent together, this leaning on each other an old habit.

“Encid came this evening.”

Tilla rose from Bo’s hand in time to keep from being flung across the forest floor. Like a whip, he jerked around to stare, in wide-eyed disbelief, at his village. Not everything burned, but enough to break a heart.

“My mother? Father?”

Tilla spoke in his mind as she always did. “Merriman, the elf, tried to save them, but it was a matter of bringing them into the daylight and them dying instantly or hoping the house wouldn’t collapse and skewer them with wood. The house collapsed, and the falling timbers impaled your parents. I’m sorry, Bo.” What more could she say?

“Noooo.” Bowstanth ran all the way down the hill to disappear into the ruined village. Tilla remained on the log, too disheartened to follow.

For a few seconds, Tilla sat then hopped up to pace, finally rocking from one foot to the other. A tiny whir of feathers and Darniece appeared beside her.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Even smaller than Tilla, the fairy sat on the log and patted a place beside her.

“Bad,” Tilla echoed.

“This has got to stop!” Darniece jammed one fist into her open palm. For a fairy, she sometimes seemed a bit belligerent to Tilla.

“Agreed. But how? No one knows what caused this sickness, and no one seems to know how to stop it.” Tilla removed a sharp piece of bark from beneath her fanny then settled next to Darniece again, her feet swinging in time with her troubled thoughts.

Darniece hunkered closer to Tilla. “I heard a rumor.” Fairies thrived on rumors.

“About what?” Tilla watched the street where Bowstanth disappeared, afraid she might miss him if she took her gaze away.

“Jethson said he heard that a unicorn knew of a cure. But it was rather involved.”

“The cure or the rumor?” Tilla asked though she paid little attention.

“The cure, silly.”

Tilla knew it was only a matter of time before Darniece lost interest in their conversation, so she urged her friend to tell what she heard. “What is the cure?”

“Well,” Darniece lowered her voice, “according to Jethson, the unicorn said one of the were-folk would bring the cure, a vamp would deliver it, and a fairy would perform the cure.” A flounce of her short skirt and Darniece sat back to preen one wing as she watched Tilla out of the corner of her eye.

“Now what the heck does that mean?” The winged woman popped up from her seat and flew back and forth, instead of pacing on her tiny feet, forgetting about Bo for a moment. “Sounds like a riddle,” she muttered. “I hate riddles.” Once again, she glanced at the village. “Bowstanth is good at them, though. Maybe I should tell him what you said.”

Without bidding her friend goodbye or saying thank you, Tilla flew into the night, Darniece forgotten.

The Letter: A Love Fulfilled
by   Sophie del Mar

Larissa St. Claire dangled the letter above the opening of the mailbox, her brows knitted in a frown as she argued with herself for the hundredth time. Should she mail it or not? She nibbled on her lower lip as she stood frozen to the spot.

If she mailed the letter, what was the worst thing that could happen? He would find her a pathetic woman who had carried a torch for him all these years. Or worse, he would simply ignore her, and she would never see him again.

She frowned in concentration. If she didn’t mail it, life would go on as usual, and she would always wonder about what might have been. She finally decided it was better to do something now and regret it later.

Still she hesitated. She must make a decision, one way or the other. In a few minutes, the paparazzi might discover her standing alone in front of the bistro and encircle her like a pack of ravenous wolves. She didn’t have time to deal with them today. Her youngest son Etienne was in a play at his school, and she would be late if she didn’t hurry.

Closing her eyes, Larissa slid the letter into the mailbox and then let it fall from her hand. She heard it land softly among the envelopes already piled at the bottom. She pulled her hand free and then breathed in the floral-scented air of Rue Saint Honore, Paris.

* * * *

Sean Renard retreated into the one room where he was guaranteed some privacy from the many distractions in his life. He closed and locked the door to his private bath and then pulled the letter from his pocket. He stared in amazement at the beautiful, delicate handwriting. He could have quoted its contents by heart, having read it at least two dozen times since it was forwarded to him from his business manager’s office the previous day. He held the violet-colored envelope to his nose, breathing in the sweet lavender scent he had come to associate with Larissa St. Claire during their time together on the set of Queen of Hearts. He had never forgotten that movie. Or Larissa. Not in the ten years since the project was completed. Not in the ten years he had worked hard to establish himself as a serious actor, making movies in every corner of the globe, always on the go, always searching, always yearning for the one thing he wanted most and couldn’t have.

“Sean, darling, are you in there? I need to talk to you.”

What was Chantal doing here? Shouldn't she be rehearsing her new play? She only had a small part in the production, but these days she behaved as if she were Dame Bloody Edna.

“I’m taking a bath, luv.” Sean turned on the water in his marble tub, the tub that could easily hold six people. Well, one man and six females, he amended. He knew for a fact how many people it could hold because one drunken night he’d picked up a gaggle of flight attendants and brought them home for his little experiment. As he thought about that lusty night, he wondered if this was all he could expect from life. One woman after another after another? On the odd occasion, a bed full of women? Suddenly, he felt in need of a bath. Maybe a bath would wash away the bad memories, the debauchery, the unfulfilled promise of his life. He was successful in every way it could be measured, but lately he found he could no longer push away the hidden pain that had dogged him for years.

“Why are you taking a bath in the middle of the day?” Chantal's shrill voice interrupted his thoughts. “Who do you have in there with you?”

She knocked loudly on the bathroom door, but Sean didn’t have the patience to deal with one of her temper tantrums. Why did he always choose high-maintenance, ultra-jealous females as his companions? Why did he never choose women who were calm and serene? Women like Larissa. He made a derisive sound in his throat. He needed to face the fact there were no other women like Larissa. She was unique on this planet.

Chantal’s pounding grew louder and was soon joined by the sound of sobbing. “Sean, this situation is growing intolerable. One of your hideously spoiled children put a dead rat under my car seat. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. They need to realize you love me, and nothing they do is going to break us up.” A pause. “Are you listening to me?”

Sean put his head in his hands. Another day, another skirmish between his children and the latest girlfriend. Why did every one of his lady friends automatically assume he would choose them over his kids? His children were all he had, all that gave his life meaning. From the moment they were born, he knew he was blessed. He also knew no woman on earth would ever come between him and his daughters.

“I'll talk to you after my bath.” He hoped she would get the message and leave him in peace.

“I need to get back to the theater,” she whined. “I just popped over during the lunch break. Can’t you let me in?”

“We’ll talk later,” he promised. “I need to make a trip over to Paris this afternoon.”

“Paris? Why?” Her voice hardened, and he could almost see the deep frown that marred her features.

“I need to talk to a French director about some historical epic he’s planning to film.” Sean regretted the lie but didn't have the energy to deal with her at the moment. “Seems he’s watched a few of my films and wants me to come to his chateau and talk to the screenwriter. I’ll probably be in Paris a couple of weeks...maybe a month,” he added for good measure.

“A French chateau?” Chantal’s voice perked up. “Can I come with you?”

Sean groaned. Would this never end? “Your play is opening tomorrow, luv. Did you forget about that?”

Silence from the other side of the door. He could imagine her jealousy warring with her all-consuming ambition to be the next big thing, move to America and win an Oscar.

“Oh, all right,” she finally said. “But I don’t like the sound of this. You’re not trying to give me the brush-off, are you?”

Lately, she had started to act like a wife, instead of a semi-regular girlfriend. She had nagged him about moving into his home, but he drew the line at that idea. He already had a house full of people, now that he had custody of his children, not to mention the nannies, cooks and housekeepers, along with various childhood friends who came for the odd visit and ended up staying for months. If Chantal moved in with him, it would cut into his time with his kids and he would never allow that to happen. Besides, Jennifer and Megan didn’t get along with her, just as they’d never gotten along with any of his girlfriends. Chantal made things worse by goading the girls, hinting that they should think about cosmetic surgery when they came of age, hinting that their friends only liked them because their father was an international movie star. It was very petty psychological warfare, and Sean was tired of getting caught in the middle of their skirmishes.

He sighed as he ran his hands through the warm water, deciding it was time to ease Chantal out of his life. Of course, this would be easier said than done. She had seemed sweet and amenable in the beginning, but now a certain narrowing of the eyes and tightening of the mouth revealed her true nature. She was stubborn and determined to have things her own way.

“Can we talk when I get back from Paris?” He tried to sound conciliatory. Why could he never reveal his true feelings to women? If he was honest with them, they were still grasping and jealous. What had he ever done to deserve this?

He had long enjoyed a hedonistic lifestyle, but it didn’t bring him true happiness. His conquests were invariably tall, thin, vapid blonds. He couldn’t bear to sleep with any woman who resembled Larissa in the slightest way. The memory of her was an ethereal dream as light as gossamer, which he kept tucked away in his heart like a well-guarded treasure.

“You better believe we’ll talk.” Her voice still sounded angry but resigned to the fact he wasn’t going to open the door. “Call me when you get back into town.”

When he heard her stomping down the stairs in her four-inch heels, he exhaled a long, cleansing breath.

Now that he was alone, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter again. He closed his eyes and held the paper to his cheek. She had actually written to him!

Before a recent interview with a reporter from the L.A. Times, he had knocked back a few pints of lager to relax, as he usually did before major interviews. Why did people always want to ask him questions? He had nothing new to say, and he found the experience one of the necessary evils of being a working actor. However, the L.A. Times reporter had seemed empathetic and friendly, skilled at drawing out a person's innermost thoughts, as if he were a friend rather than a blood-sucking journalist. Sean had let a remark slip about how much he admired Larissa St. Claire and how desirable he found her during the Queen of Hearts movie shoot. He went as far as to actually confide in the reporter his strong feelings for her after all these years, admitting she had been the great love of his life.

Talk about a slip of my tongue, Sean thought with embarrassment after he read the article for the first time.

Chantal went ballistic when she read it.

“I thought I was the love of your life, not some dark French chick.” She ranted at him until he was forced to seek shelter in his bathroom.

But his immense stupidity had resulted in the letter he now held in his hand. Not a letter really, he decided, but a lifeline.

Larissa St. Claire. His hand shook as his thumb stroked the vellum of the envelope with its Parisian postmark. So exotic, like Larissa herself. If Helen of Troy had the face of an angel then Larissa had the face of a mischievous angel. Her full lips could convey a thousand different expressions. Her green eyes, a shade lighter than his own, flashed with delight, curiosity, passion. Passion was the one he most enjoyed. He unfolded the letter and couldn’t keep from reading it yet again.

Dear Sean,

I read your recent interview in the Los Angeles Times. When we knew each other all those years ago, I sensed a kinship between us, as if I could speak to you about anything, and you would understand. Perhaps I was mistaken in my judgment, but I hope this is so... Do you remember the night we spent together? It’s a memory I shall always cherish.

If you have a free moment between films, perhaps you would honor me with a visit to my chateau outside Paris. You may have heard I’m divorced now. If you don’t want to see me, please ignore this letter, and I’ll hold on to my memories. No one can take those from me...

Larissa

Sean shook his head in disbelief. She had asked if he remembered the night they spent together. If only she knew how many hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times he had lain awake remembering that particular night.

His eyes gleamed like flawless emeralds as he stared past the marble walls of the bathroom. He allowed himself to remember...

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