Spring 2000

In his mind he saw her, although he'd never even seen a photograph. To him she was a Waterhouse, long feathery hair sweeping over heavy breasts. Delicate nipples peered out from the dark tangle of her mane. He laid his right hand, palm down onto his belly. The spot above his navel was warm and furry. His hand slid lower, along his abdomen, and he pictured her on top of him. Her breasts felt like warm water balloons as they rested on his chest, moving slowly up and down as she rocked her body rhythmically over him. Her legs, long and smooth, rubbed against his outer thighs.

The End Justifies the Means

[A man must chose between what his heart tells him to do versus the dictates of convention. Either way, he loses something and he knows this.]

Harold squeezed his palm tighter around the metal butt, sliding the gun in minuscule jerks across the stranger's temple. The weapon rested just above one of the man’s eyes, and Harold whispered, "I know what you were going to do, and I don't care. I just want you to do me a favor before you kill yourself." A trashcan overturned somewhere in the distance, and a dog barked. Reminders of reality. Harold must hurry. The stranger must cooperate.

Reason screamed at him to close his eyes, to cover his ears, to bury his head in his arms. To run as far away and as fast as he could. But fear outweighs reason with most people. Danny stood still, not moving a muscle, and watched as the multitude of red glowing eyes converged toward the car. The Dodge never slowed... it simply stopped.

It was with very little conscious thought that he stood still as she disrobed him. And as though she knew what he struggled against, and as though she knew his secrets, she licked his ear and whispered, "I want to show you the other side."

[Love really is blind through all of eternity, and once again for Charles Goodwin when he discovers a fascinating woman cooped up in an isolated farmhouse living with her very, very odd parents.]

At the top of the stairs, Rowena bent her head close to mine. I knew she was about to impart some clandestine plan for a future meeting, yet I heard nothing at first. When her face was a mere finger’s width from mine, a roaring resounded in my ears -- such was the state controlling me. She smelled of roses and honey, fresh and sweet and filling my head with clouds of passion.

Familiar Strangers

[An abused woman finds the means to an end in an out-of-the-way gas station in a nowhere’s-ville town where she meets up with some unusual accomplices.]

Susan wasn’t even aware of her own cringing; it was a reflex. Ten years with Simon had instilled many subconscious reactions. Shame and embarrassment had been replaced by acceptance and reflex. As long as she was fast and she was smart, Susan Wakerlin would not get hurt.

The Shortcut

Then I noticed something else. Something was creeping over my body, from the edges upward. I tried real hard to look, but it was too dark. Actually, it was pitch black. I blinked a couple of times to make sure my eyes were really open; but there was nothing to see. The weight kept pressing on me, getting heavier and heavier, and I suddenly realized what it was. I was sinking into the God-damned sand. Well, not sinking exactly, I was being enveloped. It was swallowing me, for Christ’s sake. It was almost over my chest, and I felt it sliding inside my clothes. It was cold, too, like prickly frozen needles poking my skin all over."

Offerings

[On a remote Greek island, a new bride faces many challenges: some for her love, some for her sanity, and some for her life.]

A wave crashed upon her, taking her by surprise. Her hair, eyes, and lips dripped the salty water. She took a few more strides in toward the sea in an attempt to go beyond the point where the waves were crashing. A cold spot. The change in temperature exhilarated her, and she spread her legs slightly, allowing the cool water to explore the creases between her bare thighs.

The Ritual

[Evil isn’t always reserved as the just desserts of malfeasance, but sometimes it can make you think differently… react differently.]

When I finally flung the screen door open, I raced through the kitchen and took the stairs four at a time. I locked my bedroom door as soon as I was inside. Might sound funny, but the first thing I did was turn on the light and look at myself in the mirror. I was sure that demon had changed me into something. I felt thick and decayed, like one of those hands that had a hold of my leg.

Things in the Night (co-author Rick Mischke)

[Captain Quinn Adams thinks terror has to do with fighting combat missions until he finds himself stranded, helpless, and not quite alone in the deep woods of enemy territory.]

A shudder surged down his spine. Something was there, behind him. Fear burst onto him like a splash of cold water. Not, the angry fear of meeting your enemy eye-to-eye in combat. For Quinn, it was the fear of being trapped – the fly in the spider's web.

The Power of the Psychic

[A psychic has her own agenda when she invites her friends over for a friendly little tarot reading. "Friendly" being the key word!]

The hand, the fingers trail down inside her leg, down to the baby-smooth softness of her inner thigh. With no further ado, the fingers press on the cotton of her panties, directly over her "hot spot".

Her legs spasm open, knocking into the knees on each side of her. She closes her legs a fraction and looks over at Michael with an embarrassed smile. His return smile says to her, "Don’t look so guilty, silly. No one knows what I’m doing."

The boy's mother collapses into her chair. Her hands shake. Her eyes flutter. Alan only hopes she's not having a stroke. That's not good for ratings. Not the way he wants them, anyway.

"This is bullshit," the husband yells. "This hoax is going to give my wife a heart attack. Stop it, now! Aren't you listening? I said stop it.

The Self-Centered Incident

[There’s more than one way to look at a superstition, as one woman learns when she encounters a particularly severe one.]

"The superstition." She came right out with it. "You’re going to die within a year if you see your double in Hyde Park."

I didn’t laugh. Although I’m a staunch non-believer in superstitions, I’m also a great believer in diplomacy. So I merely said, "Sarah, lots of people must see someone who looks like them. I’m sure it happens all the time."

"Yeah, and lots of people die, too."

The Game (co-author Rick Mischke)

The high-pitch whine sounded once again and the crowd began to cheer. He squinted against the flashes of light that followed, but it was only a second or two before he lay face-down on the ground again. The blow came fast and hard – smack on the hip. He screamed into his helmet, then curled into a fetal position – a pathetic attempt against what he knew came next. No rest. No rest. The ground began to tingle, and the electrical shock that followed jerked him to his feet against his will. How long can this go on before I collapse... or die? It was the only thought in his head.

Headlines

When Greg Altmeir was three years old his mother took him into the deep end of the swimming pool, looked him straight in the eyes, and said, "Gregory. You can do this. You can swim. Now. You don’t ever need to be afraid. You’re special. Nothing’s going to happen to you… ever."

Holiday’s Game

[A man thinks he has found again his long lost love, but things get dirty when he discovers the truth behind her reappearance. The man’s cat must lead his owner to the truth of the matter.] Available

They stood face-to-face, and as she made a minute movement toward the doorway he grabbed her arms again, squeezing hard. The noise she tried to suppress came out anyway, ugly and effeminate. He hated her, this woman. He would kill her. They were just words, though, just words to decrease the pain that pressed on his chest.

Spontaneity

[A woman takes matters into her own hands when she finds herself in a stale, unemotional relationship.]

But months had passed, and no matter how much she pushed she could not get the response she sought. She wanted him to be warm and caring -- not always clear-cut and precise. She wanted an opinion, just one opinion. But that was his last chance. Hell would freeze over before he could ever follow her into the bedroom and apologize. He would never tell her he was sorry and that, "Yes, you do look pretty today". Not on his own -- without being prompted. She finally wanted some spontaneity.

The Sure Thing

[A woman must make a future-altering decision based on her belief in fate… and time shifts.]

I leaned my back against the steel door, as though to barricade against intrusion. The cold metal felt good through my thin shirt. I tilted my head up until it also rested on the door, and I closed my eyes. I don't know how long I stayed like that. I thought of nothing. Funny, at a time when my thoughts should be coming 100 m.p.h., all I could do was breathe and think of nothing. Eventually I walked over to the sink, my hands shaking slightly. My tunnel vision was gone, and I began to think -- for the first time -- about what I had seen. As I stood in front of the dripping, wet basin I looked up into the grease-smudged mirror, grabbed some paper towels, and wiped it. Then I got real close. I’m not any older than they are. It was a small, yet significant revelation.

The Unveiling of a Diplomat

[A man gets the shock of his life when he crash lands on a planet during a diplomatic mission.]

Tony only had time himself to scramble back to his seat and fasten the harness before the craft started falling apart. He closed his eyes, but not soon enough to avoid seeing sections of metal flying past the tiny window. Sections, he knew, once belonging to their craft. His eyes were still shut fast when he heard the thundering crash and knew he was going to die.

Wingman (co-author Rick Mischke)

[A pilot appears to be alone on an aborted flight plan, but SOMEONE is leading her in… to safety.]

An explanation would not be listened to if she lost this second fighter -- even though it was not her fault -- fault didn't matter when it came to dollars. Her hands slid down to grasp the ejection handles anyway; she was ready. Just then she heard the first crackly voice over her headphones.

There Will Be Other Full Moons (co-author Rick Mischke)

[When Craig Heights discovers his recurring dreams of transforming into a dog are not dreams at all, he thinks it’s "neat". But the usefulness of this perplexity is put to the test when his friend’s life is in danger, and Craig can think of no other way to help his friend.]

Just then I heard a low howling somewhere outside, quite a ways from the house. With a jolt of recognition, I knew the quickest way to get to the quarry. I ran into the bathroom and downed four sleeping pills -- no time for conservative guesses. I lay on my bed and tried to think 'calm', repeating the word to myself. Thoughts intruded. Maybe this was a dumb thing. Maybe I should have called the police. Oh God, what if Dave dies out there and I don't do anything but sleep for two days. But I chose the path, and unconsciousness slammed me into oblivion before I could regret my decision.

Dusk (co-author Rick Mischke)

[Malcolm Westin must face his own internal demons before he can solve the task of ridding his new house of its centuries old inhabitant… the legendary Phooka.]

Malcolm paced from room to room, his arms and legs filled with restless energy. Some indefinable thing had crawled into his system, taking possession of his nerves, carrying him to the brink of excitation without a climax. A scream was in order, and it would come… eventually.

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