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Excerpts
Crystals and Disappearing Cats
By
Barbara Donlon Bradley
Present Day, Virginia Beach, VA
“And now back to our special The Wizard of Oz.”
“Nope. Not for this girl.” Glenda grabbed the
remote and clicked the TV off. “I’ve had enough of Glenda the
Good Witch to last me a life time.”
Silence wrapped her in a cocoon as she headed to
the kitchen. She had a few dishes to clean before she had to face
the box that arrived this morning. Her inheritance. “I’m sure going
to miss you, Grandma.”
Too quickly she found herself sitting in front of
the medium-sized brown box with a steak knife in her hand. It didn’t
look like much but she knew it held precious parts of her
grandmother’s life. Opening it broke her heart, her grief was still
very raw, but she needed to move past the death of her grandmother.
Grandma wouldn’t want her to mourn but celebrate her life.
Her heart constricted when she sliced through the
tape and pulled back the flaps. A sigh escaped her when she found
the box lined with several sets of sheets. Good old mom. Instead of
using newspaper like normal people she used things her daughter
might need. Like she didn’t know how to buy these things herself.
Moving aside a couple of the sheets she found
bundles. Whatever grandma had left, her Mom had wrapped them in some
sort of cloth. “Oh come on, Mom, shirts? Do I not know how to clothe
myself?”
The first package she opened revealed an old
Stief teddy bear. It was missing one eye and some of its felt, but
she felt all warm and fuzzy inside as she remembered playing with
this bear at her grandma’s house.
Each gift brought back a beautiful memory. Some
brought tears to her eyes. She knew she’d be pulling each out later
to enjoy again. The last item she pulled out was a small velvet box.
A frown creased her brow. Opening the box she found a crystal
pendant. What was this? A Christmas present? It sure wasn’t
familiar. Just as she was going to call her mom and ask about it,
she found a yellowed piece of paper tucked in the lid.
Dearest granddaughter,
This heirloom has been passed down from grandmothers to
granddaughters for generations. It isn’t for the lighthearted. It
can grant your heart’s desire. It can also make your worst dreams
come true. Be careful when you wear it, to lose it at the wrong time
will be your undoing. May all your wishes come true.
Glenda flipped the paper around. No signature.
“Very weird.”
She looked at the clock. “Oh crap! I’ve got to
get ready.”
Glenda faced her first date in about four months
and he was due in less than an hour. After racing through her shower
and applying her makeup in record time she stared at her closet,
wondering what she should wear. First dinner in a nice restaurant
then a stand up comedy show. She ended up wearing a pair of black
slacks with a silk pink blouse. Not too dressy or too desperate.
The doorbell rang before she could decide on
jewelry. All she had in sight was the crystal necklace and her
simple gold hoops. Grabbing them, she headed toward the door.
“That’ll have to do.”
* * * *
It didn’t take her very long to figure out the
date was a mistake. Her date Brian did nothing but laugh at his own
jokes and tell her how much ‘stuff’ he had. She wasn’t sure if she
could handle much more. Excusing herself, she went to the bathroom
to get a little reprieve.
Her reflection stared back at her. The crystal
bounced softly against her soft silk shirt. “Watch what I wish for,
huh? This is the one time I wish I had the power to change my life.
I want adventure and true love and I won’t find it with these men my
friends keep setting me up with. I wish I could leave here and leave
all the cares of life behind.”
She felt the crystal grow warm against her chest.
At first she thought the light in the bathroom caught in its facets,
making the necklace glow but when it grew so bright she couldn’t see
anything else she knew something strange was going on. The light
overpowered her senses.
Her world disappeared.
-----------------------------------------------------
Purple Power
By
Jane Carver
“She is dead, my Lord Counselor.” The physician
laid the delicate hand on the cream-colored cover and let his head
fall forward in grief.
Lord Counselor Jeffrey hung on to the stout
bedpost and tried to imagine the future of the small kingdom, but
his mind could only think of one thing, the death of his queen.
The darkened bedchamber held too many spirits as
far as he was concerned. Her father and mother, sister and brother.
All gone—mysteriously. Only Queen Celina had survived. Jeffrey
suspected a villain among the nobles, but his spies could find no
one who might have managed to eliminate the entire royal household
and make it look accidental.
His sigh of distress mingled with the physician’s
soft sobs. Both loved their queen dearly, having served her and her
family for decades. Though anything but calm, she tended to bouts of
anxiety and often appeared susceptible to the will of others,
despite Jeffrey’s counsel. Still she was beloved by her people in
spite of her foibles.
What would become of their small island kingdom
now? How could he tell the people that the last member of their
ruling house was gone? Who would help them survive the late 1800s in
a world where one government had no problem swallowing up another?
Through the muddle of his thoughts, the most
important question finally surged forward…what would he say to
Prince Walon, who was due to arrive the following day? What could he
say to a man come to marry the queen and unite the strength of two
small countries?
As concern for the immediate future occupied
Jeffrey’s mind, a sudden breeze carrying the fresh scent of the
ocean swept through the almost palatable suffering in the room. Deep
purple curtains at the tall open windows billowed inward, and light
from the sun yet to break over the sea’s horizon filtered in to
streak over the bed where Celina’s body lay cooling.
From out of the billowing purple material stepped
Graton, old beyond reckoning, grizzled, cantankerous, mysterious,
magical…and late. “Damn, timepieces are not what they used to be,”
he muttered as he thumped a huge pocket watch in his hand. Stuffing
it into the folds of the oversized ankle-length coat he wore, he
removed his cane from where he had hooked it over his arm and
stumped forward. As he approached the bed, he held up a hand, palm
out. “Don’t say it. I already know. I am late.” Regret filtered
through his words, and sorrow shadowed his face.
Jeffrey accepted the rebuke silently. “Could you
have saved her?” What good was a family mage if he could not protect
the family?
“No, I could not have undone the poisonous evil
wrought here.” His words fell heavy and slow. “However I can protect
the kingdom.” Graton stepped closer to the bed, and one finger
touched the young woman’s hand.
Jeffrey’s anguish turned to anger, his face
contorted with drawn brows and thinning lips. He leaned over the end
of the bed, closer to the mage. “Just how can we save Raylendorf if
our queen lies dead? Tell me that, old man!” Jeffrey left the
bedside, stomped to the windows, thrust aside the drapes and watched
the sun break over the horizon with streaks of gold, pink and
orange. Another day dawned, full of hope and possibilities, but not
for him, not for Celina and certainly not for the tiny kingdom of
Raylendorf.
“Do you not remember who I am, Lord Counselor
Jeffrey?” Graton’s words no longer carried tones of mourning. Now
his words rang out clearly, strong, as if he called troops to
battle.
“Yes, old man! I remember.” Jeffrey practically
ran back to the mage and shook his finger under the old man’s nose.
“You are the oldest living man I’ve ever known, retained by this
family to protect and secure their realm from harm, yet here you
are…too late to do either.” He rammed his palm against the solid
wooden bedpost, his gaze falling on Celina once again. “I remember
who you are, my Lord Mage Graton. And I find no comfort in your
presence.” He waved one hand toward the mage, as if he would shoo
the elder from the room.
“My lords?” Physician Morran rose, his knees so
stiff that all heard them crack as each straightened. The man had
spent the last day and night seated at his queen’s side. “I must
prepare her body for burial while you, Lord Jeffrey, must tell the
people. Lord Graton, I would appreciate your help.” Morran was old,
though not nearly as old as Graton, and at the moment, he looked
small, withered and bowed with such grief as takes the spirit out of
a man.
----------------------------------------------
A Girl’s
Other Best Friend
By
Megan Hussey
Chapter One
The pure azure hue of the descending crystal
merged with the surrounding sky, creating a spectacle that ensnared
the attention of its lone beholder.
Leila Moore regarded the crystalline orb with
wide, wonder-filled eyes, silently welcoming its ethereal descent
through her atmosphere.
Then the blasted thing conked her right between
the eyes. Suddenly it didn’t seem so ethereal.
“Ouch!” Jumping from the warm, sheltering waves
of her back yard swimming pool, Leila clutched her forehead and
gritted her teeth in unmitigated agony.
Looking down, she saw that the mysterious, and
damned painful, crystal now floated in her swimming pool; its
accents lending a luminous cast to the waters that surrounded it.
Dipping her hands into the water, Leila retrieved
the renegade crystal and regarded it with admiring eyes.
Combined with the light of the overhead sun, the
crystal shone from her fingers; warming her from head to toe and
creating pleasant, though unexplainable, sensations in her nether
regions.
The mysterious orb also gave her a novel idea.
“Joe’s birthday is tomorrow, and he always makes
a practice of uniformly hating all the gifts I give him.” With a
cringe, she visualized the unpleasant image of her smirking,
sardonic boyfriend. “But he loves shiny things, which explains his
taste in clothes and automobiles. And his taste in my cousin Moana,
the swimsuit model, whom he constantly ogles.” She gritted her
teeth, casting an uneasy glance down the length of her own
Rubenesque form. “Surely he’ll love this crystal.”
CChapter Two
Valaria Jinga, president of the planet Eternia,
admired the luminous sky that shone over her land; a sky boasting a
pure azure hue that likened to freshly cut diamonds. That same hue
cast a shine on tall, luminous skyscrapers and the surreal, emerald
green meadows with rainbow-colored ferns around them.
This sight was always a calming one for Valaria,
ruler of a planet where women reigned supreme; where beautiful young
men, known as pleasure ambassadors, served and satisfied their
feminine superiors.
And when dealing with Cason, her newest
ambassador, she needed all the ‘calm’ she could get.
“You pesky alien he babe!” Valaria now turned to
face the blond, pouting Cason, slapping the palm of her hand against
the surface of her hard cherry wood desk, the centerpiece in her
office at the Eternian embassy. “I give you one assignment that
involves something other than seducing some lust-stricken woman, and
you botch it up!”
Cason folded his arms across his chest and lifted
his chin.
“With all due respect, your Excellency, I was
trained to seduce and entertain the female visitors and residents of
this planet.” He shook his head. “I’m not a jewel courier.”
Valaria sighed. “I know, Cason. And as a pleasure
ambassador,” with this her eyes took a leisurely walk across his
carved, flawless face and tall muscular frame, “you pretty much
rule.”
Leaning forward, she pinned him with a
penetrating gaze. “What you need to understand, though, is that this
crystal is a pleasure device. Another means by which we can show our
women the true meaning of ecstasy.”
She grinned as Cason’s emerald eyes widened in
obvious interest.
“You didn’t tell
me this before, your Excellency. You told me only to steer my
spaceship onto the twelfth Muldivian moon and retrieve the shiniest
rock on its surface.” Again he shook his lush blond head. “You
didn’t tell me the rock was a tool of pleasure.”
---------------------------------------------
Kunzite
Crystals
By
Nikki Hale
Chapter One
The heavy accented standard Federation language
floated into his subconscious dream state.
“Is the human slut prepared?” The Vattian
alien’s voice hissed, and its long thin fingers stroked the chained
naked body.
He opened his eyes and glanced down at his skin. The tiny stingers
on the gloved hand left droplets of blood and a burning sensation.
He forced himself not to flinch. Down the scarred chest, over the
buttocks, and between the legs, heat pulsed toward his groin. He
wrestled to control the lust racing through him, dropped his chin
and struggled to shut down his brain.
Another Vat stopped, pulled his head up by
his hair and looked into his eyes. “Yes, Sir,” the male stroked the
prisoner until his cock was engorged. “This is the last time we can
use him or the drug.”
Zite struggled against the restraints. The
metal and piri-reptilian leather cuffs and waist belt prevented any
movement. Fear lodged in his throat.
Zite snapped awake. He wiped the sweat from his
face and took several deep breaths in an attempt to control his
heartbeat. Shit. Three years, reconstructive surgery and the
nightmares still wouldn’t let go. The relaxation techniques and
other mediation crap didn’t work. Nothing worked except the stuff.
He reached for the prepared dispenser beside the chair. Zite
injected himself through the second skin and waited for it to take
effect. After a few moments, the black market Vattian drug slowed
his breathing, and his heart rate returned to normal.
“Urgent priority level Zania transmission for
Commander Zite,” the synthetic humanoid voice on the Halo-com
purred.
“Damn it, I’m off-duty,” muttered Stone Zite, as
he hid the hypodermic and pushed up from his chair. He knew if he
checked the mirror he looked worse than an ogre after mating season.
Hell, he even smelled like one. The constant recon work the past
month was getting to him. He placed his hand on the scanner.
“Additional security measures in effect, retina
scan required.”
“Vamp-crap.” The sinking feeling in his gut
built. A cold sweat coated his body, and he crashed from the effect
of the drug. Something must have happened to the Emperor while he
was getting royally fucked. A silver cube levitated to his eyes and
moved from one to the other.
“Identity confirmed. Authorized to receive Level
Zania broadcast. Stand-by.”
The solid silver screen faded into the bright
colors of the Imperial Guard uniform.
“Commander Zite.”
Rite-Commander Inajo. This was worse than he
could’ve imagined. The bane of his existence was right there on Vid
with him.
“Rite-Commander Inajo, is the Emperor alright?”
“Henrico is fine. I’m calling about your refusal
to report to regeneration therapy.”
“I don’t understand the need to report for a
bunch of mumbo jumbo crap, sir.”
“Zite, I don’t care how you feel about the
treatment. I expect my top officer to follow a direct order.
Headquarters wants me to serve your ass on a diode platter. If you
don’t report to your assigned medical post within one nano-pulsar,
I’ll not only serve you on the fucking plate, your blood will be the
damn dipping sauce. Do I make myself clear, Commander?”
“Perfectly, sir.”
Zite looked at the dark screen. His time spent as
a POW was beginning to look good. The trip to Planet Azalea would
end his career. No one ever made it back. Orb, Hess and Nexus were
perfect examples.
Shit, now me.
---------------------------------------------------
Samsons And Delilah
By
Denise Jeffries
Chapter One
Delilah’s body screamed with pain. She’d tried to
tuck and roll when she went flying through the air, but the cement
wall she smashed into had other ideas. She didn’t have time to
think, to breath before he was on her. Damn, she hated this part of
her job. Dealing with deadhead aliens and insufferable humans was
taking their toll.
Ignoring the pain in the torn muscles of her
legs, she pulled them up to her chest and pushed out with everything
she had, landing them dead center into the Man-Deran’s chest,
pushing him back. But it wasn’t enough to take him down.
The floor and walls rumbled around her. Prisms of
light fractured the air, shooting rays of red, green and blue across
the sky.
“No!” Delilah’s gaze scanned the ground for the
crystal. She and the man had wrestled for the gem, but with all the
scuffling, both had lost their grip. There. It lay on the
ground near her cruiser. She had to get the crystal. Destroy it. If
not, if it landed in the wrong hands, any hands, astronomical
disaster would happen. The Krugernaughts have searched for the
crystal for years and still hadn’t found it. Delilah knew if they
were to get their clawed hands on it, they would use its power to
control every planet in the galaxy. The world wouldn’t be as people
remembered, if it survived at all.
Pushing to her feet and leaping through the air,
this time she did remember to roll. One hand closed around the
glowing orb while the other closed around her pulsar. She only
needed to get off one shot and take this man down. She’d explain
later why she had to discharge her pulsar within the planet’s
atmosphere and take whatever punishment rendered from the high
council, but she wasn’t ready to lose mankind to the likes of this
thing.
The portal was growing wider. Deeper. Darker. The
gravitational pulling tugged at her gut, making the hairs stand on
her arms. Turning on her back with her weapon primed to fire, she
drew down and squeezed off a shot. But not before his foot connected
with her head, shooting shards of pain and stars across her line of
vision. She fired again. What was this thing? Two shots could have
brought down the worst of star creatures, but this time they did
nothing but slow it down. Another shot and he stumbled and then
righted himself, kicked her in the stomach and then her hand.
“No!” The crystal flew from her grip and sailed
through the air, hitting the top of her cruiser and then bouncing up
and away. Before she could take another breath the gravity pull of
the space hole sucked the crystal away and then just as quickly as
it opened, it closed.
Disgusted with herself for letting this thing get
in the way, Delilah pushed up to face off with what was left of the
man thing. Her fingers moving rapidly over the weapon to ready it as
she strolled over to him, “What the hell are you?” Her voice came
out in a hiss. “I don’t like it when my job is interrupted.” She
pulled off three more shots. “If it hadn’t been for you, I could be
relaxing on Camp I with an ale, but no,” She squeezed off one more
shot. “I’m stuck here tracking you down.”
The flesh bubbled and started to melt. Two more
shots for prosperity and for the hell of it and the mass of
mutilated flesh disintegrated. She’d have to answer for that, but
right now she didn’t care. The only thing important was the crystal.
Where did it go? What ungodly part of the universe had it landed in?
It would be too easy for it to land on the planet Volcanus. That
would insure its destruction; with temperatures greater than one
thousand degrees on the surface, nothing survived.
But, Delilah didn’t have that kind of luck.
Straightening her sweat and grime-covered body, she rotated her head
from right to left in an attempt to ease the knots twisting her
muscles. She ran her hand over her face, groaned when her fingers
came back splattered with her blood and remnants of what was left of
the thing she’d killed, and blew out a breath. Swallowing past the
lump forming in her throat, she gathered herself and prepared to
explain to the council why and how she had failed. Something she
rarely did.
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