Sherry's book Here Comes The Bribe is now available.
Andi pretends to be Cole's fiancee and a charming sexy read commences.Fun and sexy! Here Comes the Bribe is a charming tale. Cole is a hero you desire and enjoy. Andi is spunky and sweet. Ms. Davis has crafted an enjoyable summer read. I can't wait for more from this author.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Someone Found
Christ, how she wanted the world to be fair just this one time, wanted fair to be more than another extraneous four-letter word thrown into the mix. She wanted it to be her turn at fair.
Tasha pulled in a deep breath, immediately regretted the effort then struggled to push it back out. It hurt – what the hell didn’t hurt? Pain radiated; white-hot pricks hammered her nerve endings as the anesthetizing effect of adrenaline from her fall wore off. Tiny breaths, then. She labor-panted and fought to stay conscious.
She couldn’t pass out. She had to hold on for the medics. If she lost her fight against the pressing blackness, she would lose the last of Demitri. Again. And this time felt like it would be forever. She closed her battered fingers into a fist and suffered through the pain, welcoming it as a sign that she was still here, still in control. Like a mantra, she used the anguish of her injuries to call out to him.
Little more than mist in her in mind, Demitri was ghostly visible but impossibly intangible. And yet, with the barest thought of him a sense of completeness filled her; somehow whole as though she’d been mended, healed through his very essence. His face was only a blur of angles, his smell antiseptically removed, even the sound of his voice faded. Elvira and her magical jumping had left this hole in her. Yet some tiny thread of remembrance needled Tasha, pricking and refusing to be still.
Sirens shrieking in the summer air ground to a halt with a squall of tires. The dull thud of doors clunked, bags popping against the cement, footsteps pounding on the pavement. Sounded like the medical cavalry had arrived.
A breeze, the poorest excuse for any air at all, brushed against her cheek, and sudden fire heated her skin. He was there in that touch, the warmth of his fingers, the surety of his caress, as though time had bent from one century to another, and he reached through for her.
“Demitri,” the plea whispered from her.
“I’m here, my love.”
Sensations rushed at her: sandalwood and cigars, the husky timbre of his voice, the warmth of his breath. Another caress feathered her skin, this one firmer, more real, and intently now. Tasha opened her eyes. Demitri’s beloved face filled her vision, close and concerned, the crisp press of an EMT uniform covering the width of his broad shoulders, the strength of his muscular thigh snug near her side. He was all things alive and wonderful.
“Are you real?” she breathed.
“Always.” His fingers gently soothed her cheek. “You needed only say no to Elvira, to willingly release the penance and make the choice for love. For us. The power has always been inside you to break the spell, sweetheart.”
“I will love you forever, Demitri,” she promised.
“And beyond.” He sealed his pledge with a single brush of his lips before he straightened and with professional efficiency popped the earpieces of a stethoscope into place. He warmed the metal disc with his breath before placing it against her heart. “Now, let’s make sure forever last an eternity.”
Tasha pulled in a deep breath, immediately regretted the effort then struggled to push it back out. It hurt – what the hell didn’t hurt? Pain radiated; white-hot pricks hammered her nerve endings as the anesthetizing effect of adrenaline from her fall wore off. Tiny breaths, then. She labor-panted and fought to stay conscious.
She couldn’t pass out. She had to hold on for the medics. If she lost her fight against the pressing blackness, she would lose the last of Demitri. Again. And this time felt like it would be forever. She closed her battered fingers into a fist and suffered through the pain, welcoming it as a sign that she was still here, still in control. Like a mantra, she used the anguish of her injuries to call out to him.
Little more than mist in her in mind, Demitri was ghostly visible but impossibly intangible. And yet, with the barest thought of him a sense of completeness filled her; somehow whole as though she’d been mended, healed through his very essence. His face was only a blur of angles, his smell antiseptically removed, even the sound of his voice faded. Elvira and her magical jumping had left this hole in her. Yet some tiny thread of remembrance needled Tasha, pricking and refusing to be still.
Sirens shrieking in the summer air ground to a halt with a squall of tires. The dull thud of doors clunked, bags popping against the cement, footsteps pounding on the pavement. Sounded like the medical cavalry had arrived.
A breeze, the poorest excuse for any air at all, brushed against her cheek, and sudden fire heated her skin. He was there in that touch, the warmth of his fingers, the surety of his caress, as though time had bent from one century to another, and he reached through for her.
“Demitri,” the plea whispered from her.
“I’m here, my love.”
Sensations rushed at her: sandalwood and cigars, the husky timbre of his voice, the warmth of his breath. Another caress feathered her skin, this one firmer, more real, and intently now. Tasha opened her eyes. Demitri’s beloved face filled her vision, close and concerned, the crisp press of an EMT uniform covering the width of his broad shoulders, the strength of his muscular thigh snug near her side. He was all things alive and wonderful.
“Are you real?” she breathed.
“Always.” His fingers gently soothed her cheek. “You needed only say no to Elvira, to willingly release the penance and make the choice for love. For us. The power has always been inside you to break the spell, sweetheart.”
“I will love you forever, Demitri,” she promised.
“And beyond.” He sealed his pledge with a single brush of his lips before he straightened and with professional efficiency popped the earpieces of a stethoscope into place. He warmed the metal disc with his breath before placing it against her heart. “Now, let’s make sure forever last an eternity.”
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Someone Lost
Her eyes became her only words.
Air rushed through her body and her words and thoughts disappeared. Where?
The woman’s body plummeted from the three-story balcony. She tucked her head to her chest and curled into a fetal position.
“Tasha!” A man screamed. Anguish fractured his voice and her heart. She collided with the unmoving concrete sidewalk. Bone cracked and shattered, the impact forcing air from her lungs.
She looked skyward, frantic to find him. She knew she had lost something. How could the woman survive the pain of such loss? Someone crucial, critical to her life – lost.
The agony of her heart tempted her to relinquish this body to the physical pain and imminent death. Darkness loomed above. She closed her eyes.
“Elvira, please. Please, save her.” The tormented plea whispered in her head and the wind.
A chilled hand touched her neck. “She’s got a pulse.” She opened her eyes to see a man dressed in the blue, a policeman. His lips thin and eyes tight with tension.
He flinched at her unexpected gaze then his face smoothed into a mask of reassurance. But pinpoint pupils suggested a frantic rush of adrenaline and reflected her face. She knew that person his brown eyes mirrored back. That was her, the real her.
She was Tasha Downey. And he wasn’t the one.
“Where?” She croaked.
“It’s okay, we got him. An ambulance is on the way.”
Sun high in a noonday sky heated the pavement. She smelled the man’s acrid sweat. The grime and debris on the sidewalk pressed into her flesh. Trapped once again in a dying body. Her own shattered and traumatized body.
A siren blared, carried on the wind as it raced across city streets. The policeman left, replaced by a new shadow. A woman with orange hair knelt at her side, bracelets jingled and clanked as she moved.
“Tasha,” she said softly. A smooth cool palm soothed her brow and brushed her hair back. “Hold on, honey. I’ll jump you into another while this your body heals. You don’t have to endure this pain.”
“Elvira,” she thought.
“That’s right baby, it’s me. I’ll take care of everything.”
“No.” Tasha said.
“Now there is no reason to struggle through the pain of healing. When you finish this next job you’ll be recovered.” Elvira took her hand and squeezed. “Ready?”
“No.”
Forehead wrinkled and eyes squinting, Elvira frowned. “Now listen to me, you have a penance to serve,” she scolded.
“No more. Where is he?”
“Who?” She checked her nails feigning ignorance and boredom.
Tasha’s squeezed Elvira’s hand. Her body wasn’t paralyzed, just damaged. She tightened her grip. Elvira winced and pulled her arm back. Her jewelry sparkled and flashed.
“Demitri. Don’t take away my reason to live. Don’t.” Tears blurred her vision and clogged her throat. "Don't."
Air rushed through her body and her words and thoughts disappeared. Where?
The woman’s body plummeted from the three-story balcony. She tucked her head to her chest and curled into a fetal position.
“Tasha!” A man screamed. Anguish fractured his voice and her heart. She collided with the unmoving concrete sidewalk. Bone cracked and shattered, the impact forcing air from her lungs.
She looked skyward, frantic to find him. She knew she had lost something. How could the woman survive the pain of such loss? Someone crucial, critical to her life – lost.
The agony of her heart tempted her to relinquish this body to the physical pain and imminent death. Darkness loomed above. She closed her eyes.
“Elvira, please. Please, save her.” The tormented plea whispered in her head and the wind.
A chilled hand touched her neck. “She’s got a pulse.” She opened her eyes to see a man dressed in the blue, a policeman. His lips thin and eyes tight with tension.
He flinched at her unexpected gaze then his face smoothed into a mask of reassurance. But pinpoint pupils suggested a frantic rush of adrenaline and reflected her face. She knew that person his brown eyes mirrored back. That was her, the real her.
She was Tasha Downey. And he wasn’t the one.
“Where?” She croaked.
“It’s okay, we got him. An ambulance is on the way.”
Sun high in a noonday sky heated the pavement. She smelled the man’s acrid sweat. The grime and debris on the sidewalk pressed into her flesh. Trapped once again in a dying body. Her own shattered and traumatized body.
A siren blared, carried on the wind as it raced across city streets. The policeman left, replaced by a new shadow. A woman with orange hair knelt at her side, bracelets jingled and clanked as she moved.
“Tasha,” she said softly. A smooth cool palm soothed her brow and brushed her hair back. “Hold on, honey. I’ll jump you into another while this your body heals. You don’t have to endure this pain.”
“Elvira,” she thought.
“That’s right baby, it’s me. I’ll take care of everything.”
“No.” Tasha said.
“Now there is no reason to struggle through the pain of healing. When you finish this next job you’ll be recovered.” Elvira took her hand and squeezed. “Ready?”
“No.”
Forehead wrinkled and eyes squinting, Elvira frowned. “Now listen to me, you have a penance to serve,” she scolded.
“No more. Where is he?”
“Who?” She checked her nails feigning ignorance and boredom.
Tasha’s squeezed Elvira’s hand. Her body wasn’t paralyzed, just damaged. She tightened her grip. Elvira winced and pulled her arm back. Her jewelry sparkled and flashed.
“Demitri. Don’t take away my reason to live. Don’t.” Tears blurred her vision and clogged her throat. "Don't."
Thursday, March 27, 2008
The Fog
The rug’s mosaic patterns lifted and took on light and shadows from the space below. Poppy’s shoes, mired in an invisible field stronger than any pull she’d known with her other jumps, became shackles she couldn’t slip free of. The charged heat slithered around her ankles and the awkward slope of her arch in the ridiculous shoes—the pain that had settled, almost unnoticed, evaporated. Her feet numbed.
Tasha opened her eyes and found Elvira. For all the woman’s half-truths and deceptions, for every sting of sarcasm that eclipsed a tender heart, she stood as still as a statue and made no attempt to wield her magic, as if her daughter’s free will held the highest ground in the fairy realm. No time for words. Just the unguarded presence of a mother’s love for her child.
Her eyes became her only words.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
What's In A Name?
"Stop it, both of you." Tasha moved away from the bed and looked down. The only thing she had on was a transparent nightgown. She walked to the other side of the bed, grabbed her robe and discovered her wound had stopped hurting. Elvira ... her mother ... must have executed some of her fast healing magic.
Her mother. She stopped tying her robe and looked at the woman arguing with Bracken/Demitri. Who would've thought it? If she'd been younger, mabye it would've been more traumatic to discover who Elvira really was. But at this time in her life, Elvira was her friend and always would be.
She stared at the two warring dryads. Would they never stop arguing? "Hey everybody!" They both turned and stared. "I'm here to do a job and by god I'm going to do it. With the two of you or without you."
Bracken/Demitri spoke out. "But you must be told why that sorry excuse for a fairy godmother a.k.a.your mother has had you traveling through time and all over the world."
"She already knows," Elvira interrupted.
"That's enough." Tasha raised an open hand at the two adversaries. She glanced at Elvira and then at Demitri. Braken didn't exist, not for her, at least. "First we need to clean up this mess, then we'll talk."
"Honey, there's no need to talk to this interloper." Elvira stared at Demitri as if she stared hard enough, he'd disappear.
Demitri stared back for a moment and then softly whispered. "You wish."
To Tasha those two little whispered words sound almost like a threat. But threat of what?
Then he quickly turned to face Tasha. "What do you want me to do?" He grinned ... a very high voltage smile.
Tasha felt like a moth being drawn in by a flame. "Do?" It took all her control to keep herself from running directly into his arms. "Oh. Yes." She reluctantly turned away and moved toward the fireplace. "We need to get Bracken and Poppy married." Distance was good where that virile man was concerned. She sat down in a wing chair. "Then we have to find out who's trying to kill me, I mean Poppy. Or should it be vice versa?"
"I know who's trying to kill you?" Elvira moved toward her and plopped down on the twin of the wing chair facing Tasha and crossed her legs. She had a smug smile plastered on her over-made-up face.
"You do?" Tasha and Demitri spoke out in unison.
Demitri stalked toward Elvira. "So what's the reason you haven't said anything, old woman?" He leaned in and glared directly into her face. "Do you want Tasha to die the next time an attempt is made on her life?"
"Of course not." Eliva pushed back against the chair cushions as far away from Demitri as she could
He straightened. "Then what?"
"Tasha is very good at solving mysteries." Elvira appeared insulted by his attack. "I didn't want to rain on her parade."
"Please ... rain on it." Demitri enunciated each word.
"It's the step-father." Elvira fluffed up her unrully hair.
"I knew it!" Demitri turned and strolled toward Tasha. "It's that money grubbing bastard."
Tasha breathed in Demitri's eluisve scent and could almost feel his heat when he stopped beside her chair. It was as if he were guarding against anyone who'd dare try to harm her. It was sort of endearing.
"He didn't to it himself, of course," Elvira explained. "He hired someone to shove her into the lake."
"Then he didn't ie when he told me he was on the opposite side." Demitri gave Tasha a quick glance.
"But he put the arsenic in her tea all by himself." Elvira lifted her arm, stared at the multitude of bracelets decorating it and moved it so the costume jewelry would jangle. "He merely waited for the maid to step out of the room for a moment and put it in the teapot."
"Would you please stop with that infernal racket?"
Elvira stopped her arm movement and stared at Demitri as if he was crazy. "You've got a real problem, young man." But she slowly moved her arm toward the chair's armrest.
Tasha shook her head at Elvira's antics. She looked up at Demitri. "You're going to tell the Earl you know what he's done. That if he doesn't change his ways you're going to have him arrested. Then I want you to go to the city and pay off Lizzy's fiance', threaten with some bodily harm if he has any objections and set Lizzy free."
"I can do that." He smiled. Then we'll get married."
"Poppy and Bracken will be married." Tasha corrected him. She moved her gaze to Elvira. The man had too much sex appeal for her peace of mind. But it isn't your mind that's responding,a little voice corrected her.
"What do you want me to do?" Elvira fluffed up her hair.
"once Poppy dies ... of natural causes, of course, I want you to work your magic." She glanced up at Demitri. "Lizzy is to fall in love with Bracken and he with her."
Demitri leaned down to Tasha's ear and whispered, "I can love only you, my Tasha." His voice was so low Tasha knew only she had heard his declaration. He moved away much too quickly.
"What are you telling her?" Elvira leaned forward in her chair.
"Nothing that need concern you," Demitri quickly responded.
Elvira leaned back in her chair seemly satisfied with his answer. But a quick glance at Tasha's face and look of disapproval crossed her face at what she was witnessing.
Tasha could feel heat rise up her neck onto her face and cheeks. Damn it! She was blushing ... again. She watched Demitri walk away with a long legged stride that was more military than sexy. But it obviuosly didn't matter one smidgeion to her libido.
What was it about this man that just looking at him had her thinking of all kinds of scandalous cravings to satisfy on a rainy afternoon? Who was she kidding? Rainy afternoon? Hell! Day or night, any kind of weather, it truly didn't matter.
It took less than two days to get Poppy's life in order. They married in a quiet ceremony with only her step-father, Lizzy and the Duke of Claymoor, her godfather in attendance. Elvira set the spell on Lizzy and Bracken to activate six months after Poppy's passing, out of respect for the little-rich-girl. Just in case, they didn't want Lizzy or Bracken to experience any guilt for falling in love so soon after Poppy's death. After the wedding, the Earl of Rottingham, Poppy's step-father, was sent to one of Poppy's smaller estates to rusticate.
All was finally right with the world.
Almost.
"Tasha, I think I've been very patient." Demitri stood directly in front of Tasha. "Before you pop out of Poppy, I want you to know the truth."
Elvira quickly moved from behind Demitri toward Tasha. "Don't listen to him, honey." She had that imploring look on her face that Tasha had come to recognize. It was the look Elvira had when Tasha had taken care of the murderer of the latest victum and she'd visit Tasha to tell her what country and what year she'd go to next.
"All right, Elvira," Demitri directed. "Why don't you tell Tasha, she hasn't been doing all this jumping to correct a mistake she's made?" Demitri's hands clenched at his sides. "That fairy godmothers aren't capable of going back in time to erase a man's death that Detective Tasha Benton believes she caused when she wrongly accused him of murdering his girlfried?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Elvira turned and glared at him.
"Go ahead. Lie to her. Tell her I'm not the reason you've had her jumping all over the damn world and all over the fricking centuries for the last four years." Demitri's jaw clenched as he stared at Elvira's back. When he turned to Tasha his gaze softened.
"That's not true." Tasha couldn't believe what he was saying. "Elvira came to help me." She gazed at the apparent compassion in Demitri's eyes. "Tell him Elvira." He stood there as if carved out of granite, so unyielding. He had no idea of the bond she and Elvira shared. She'd been there ... always. Well ... almost always.
"Tell him he's wrong, honey." Elvira stared up at Tasha.
"Am I?" Demitri stared into Tasha's eyes, into her soul.
"It's in the contract I signed," Tasha tried to tell him. "Once I've done my penance and I catch the gulity parties in other women's murders, Elvira's going to go back and fix things. She's going to inform Jackson Allen that the police found the man who murdered his fiancee'." Tasha stared down at her friend ... her very own fairy godmother ... her mother.
But Elvira had suddenly found something very interesting in the pattern of the rug they were standing on. Tasha stared at Elvira's bent head and began to get a terrible feeling in her stomach. She recognized it. It was how she'd felt when she'd been told the murderer for Jackson Allen's girlfriend had confessed, twenty-four hours after Mr. Allen had committed suicide.
"Then ... everything ... will ... be ... like ... it ... was ... before." She spoke the words slowly, as if speaking them slowly, would make them true.
Her mother. She stopped tying her robe and looked at the woman arguing with Bracken/Demitri. Who would've thought it? If she'd been younger, mabye it would've been more traumatic to discover who Elvira really was. But at this time in her life, Elvira was her friend and always would be.
She stared at the two warring dryads. Would they never stop arguing? "Hey everybody!" They both turned and stared. "I'm here to do a job and by god I'm going to do it. With the two of you or without you."
Bracken/Demitri spoke out. "But you must be told why that sorry excuse for a fairy godmother a.k.a.your mother has had you traveling through time and all over the world."
"She already knows," Elvira interrupted.
"That's enough." Tasha raised an open hand at the two adversaries. She glanced at Elvira and then at Demitri. Braken didn't exist, not for her, at least. "First we need to clean up this mess, then we'll talk."
"Honey, there's no need to talk to this interloper." Elvira stared at Demitri as if she stared hard enough, he'd disappear.
Demitri stared back for a moment and then softly whispered. "You wish."
To Tasha those two little whispered words sound almost like a threat. But threat of what?
Then he quickly turned to face Tasha. "What do you want me to do?" He grinned ... a very high voltage smile.
Tasha felt like a moth being drawn in by a flame. "Do?" It took all her control to keep herself from running directly into his arms. "Oh. Yes." She reluctantly turned away and moved toward the fireplace. "We need to get Bracken and Poppy married." Distance was good where that virile man was concerned. She sat down in a wing chair. "Then we have to find out who's trying to kill me, I mean Poppy. Or should it be vice versa?"
"I know who's trying to kill you?" Elvira moved toward her and plopped down on the twin of the wing chair facing Tasha and crossed her legs. She had a smug smile plastered on her over-made-up face.
"You do?" Tasha and Demitri spoke out in unison.
Demitri stalked toward Elvira. "So what's the reason you haven't said anything, old woman?" He leaned in and glared directly into her face. "Do you want Tasha to die the next time an attempt is made on her life?"
"Of course not." Eliva pushed back against the chair cushions as far away from Demitri as she could
He straightened. "Then what?"
"Tasha is very good at solving mysteries." Elvira appeared insulted by his attack. "I didn't want to rain on her parade."
"Please ... rain on it." Demitri enunciated each word.
"It's the step-father." Elvira fluffed up her unrully hair.
"I knew it!" Demitri turned and strolled toward Tasha. "It's that money grubbing bastard."
Tasha breathed in Demitri's eluisve scent and could almost feel his heat when he stopped beside her chair. It was as if he were guarding against anyone who'd dare try to harm her. It was sort of endearing.
"He didn't to it himself, of course," Elvira explained. "He hired someone to shove her into the lake."
"Then he didn't ie when he told me he was on the opposite side." Demitri gave Tasha a quick glance.
"But he put the arsenic in her tea all by himself." Elvira lifted her arm, stared at the multitude of bracelets decorating it and moved it so the costume jewelry would jangle. "He merely waited for the maid to step out of the room for a moment and put it in the teapot."
"Would you please stop with that infernal racket?"
Elvira stopped her arm movement and stared at Demitri as if he was crazy. "You've got a real problem, young man." But she slowly moved her arm toward the chair's armrest.
Tasha shook her head at Elvira's antics. She looked up at Demitri. "You're going to tell the Earl you know what he's done. That if he doesn't change his ways you're going to have him arrested. Then I want you to go to the city and pay off Lizzy's fiance', threaten with some bodily harm if he has any objections and set Lizzy free."
"I can do that." He smiled. Then we'll get married."
"Poppy and Bracken will be married." Tasha corrected him. She moved her gaze to Elvira. The man had too much sex appeal for her peace of mind. But it isn't your mind that's responding,a little voice corrected her.
"What do you want me to do?" Elvira fluffed up her hair.
"once Poppy dies ... of natural causes, of course, I want you to work your magic." She glanced up at Demitri. "Lizzy is to fall in love with Bracken and he with her."
Demitri leaned down to Tasha's ear and whispered, "I can love only you, my Tasha." His voice was so low Tasha knew only she had heard his declaration. He moved away much too quickly.
"What are you telling her?" Elvira leaned forward in her chair.
"Nothing that need concern you," Demitri quickly responded.
Elvira leaned back in her chair seemly satisfied with his answer. But a quick glance at Tasha's face and look of disapproval crossed her face at what she was witnessing.
Tasha could feel heat rise up her neck onto her face and cheeks. Damn it! She was blushing ... again. She watched Demitri walk away with a long legged stride that was more military than sexy. But it obviuosly didn't matter one smidgeion to her libido.
What was it about this man that just looking at him had her thinking of all kinds of scandalous cravings to satisfy on a rainy afternoon? Who was she kidding? Rainy afternoon? Hell! Day or night, any kind of weather, it truly didn't matter.
It took less than two days to get Poppy's life in order. They married in a quiet ceremony with only her step-father, Lizzy and the Duke of Claymoor, her godfather in attendance. Elvira set the spell on Lizzy and Bracken to activate six months after Poppy's passing, out of respect for the little-rich-girl. Just in case, they didn't want Lizzy or Bracken to experience any guilt for falling in love so soon after Poppy's death. After the wedding, the Earl of Rottingham, Poppy's step-father, was sent to one of Poppy's smaller estates to rusticate.
All was finally right with the world.
Almost.
"Tasha, I think I've been very patient." Demitri stood directly in front of Tasha. "Before you pop out of Poppy, I want you to know the truth."
Elvira quickly moved from behind Demitri toward Tasha. "Don't listen to him, honey." She had that imploring look on her face that Tasha had come to recognize. It was the look Elvira had when Tasha had taken care of the murderer of the latest victum and she'd visit Tasha to tell her what country and what year she'd go to next.
"All right, Elvira," Demitri directed. "Why don't you tell Tasha, she hasn't been doing all this jumping to correct a mistake she's made?" Demitri's hands clenched at his sides. "That fairy godmothers aren't capable of going back in time to erase a man's death that Detective Tasha Benton believes she caused when she wrongly accused him of murdering his girlfried?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Elvira turned and glared at him.
"Go ahead. Lie to her. Tell her I'm not the reason you've had her jumping all over the damn world and all over the fricking centuries for the last four years." Demitri's jaw clenched as he stared at Elvira's back. When he turned to Tasha his gaze softened.
"That's not true." Tasha couldn't believe what he was saying. "Elvira came to help me." She gazed at the apparent compassion in Demitri's eyes. "Tell him Elvira." He stood there as if carved out of granite, so unyielding. He had no idea of the bond she and Elvira shared. She'd been there ... always. Well ... almost always.
"Tell him he's wrong, honey." Elvira stared up at Tasha.
"Am I?" Demitri stared into Tasha's eyes, into her soul.
"It's in the contract I signed," Tasha tried to tell him. "Once I've done my penance and I catch the gulity parties in other women's murders, Elvira's going to go back and fix things. She's going to inform Jackson Allen that the police found the man who murdered his fiancee'." Tasha stared down at her friend ... her very own fairy godmother ... her mother.
But Elvira had suddenly found something very interesting in the pattern of the rug they were standing on. Tasha stared at Elvira's bent head and began to get a terrible feeling in her stomach. She recognized it. It was how she'd felt when she'd been told the murderer for Jackson Allen's girlfriend had confessed, twenty-four hours after Mr. Allen had committed suicide.
"Then ... everything ... will ... be ... like ... it ... was ... before." She spoke the words slowly, as if speaking them slowly, would make them true.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Tick-Tock the Murder Clock
Marraige?
What about Poppy?
What about the murderer?
What about her completely screwed up life? Her real life? The one she wanted back?
She dropped the shard of glass with a thud against the Aubusson carpet beneath her. The rug's frayed edges protected a large portion of the planked wooden floor even as her heel dipped against the uneven surface. The carpet, like her fairy godmother, concealed more than it revealed.
Tasha flexed her hand and looked down to find the shard had left a confusing criss-cross indention on her skin. "I don't understand, Elvira. You're supposed to be my fairy god-mother. You're supposed to protect me."
"That's exactly what I've done." Elvira twisted her fingers together, her expression pleading for understanding.
"Is anything you told me the truth?"
"Tasha ..."
"She's not your fairy god-mother." Bracken-slash-Demitri wiped his hands against his coat before he straightened his lapels. "Will you tell her?" He turned to Elvira. "Or shall I?"
Elvira turned away.
"She's your mother." Bracken said more softly.
"I don't have a mother." She shook her head. "It was just Dad and me. I'd know if I had a mother--"
Bracken-slash-Demitri shook his head sadly.
She supposed there could be a chance Elvira was her mother. Even before her hellish first tumble of jumps, Elvira had been part of her life. First as an imaginary friend only she could see, usually at her birthday parties and holidays. Later, after her father died, as an inconstant companion. But, if Elvira was her mother ...
"She's not a fairy god-mother?"
"Of cou..." Elvira shrilled as her hair bounced in time with her temper. "Of course ..." She stilled, tested a breath and clamped her eyes closed for a brief moment. "Of course, I'm a fairy. Are you daft, girl?" She advanced, stretching herself on tip-toe until she was nose to nose with Tasha. "Your grandmother would be turning over in her grave to hear such a thing come out of your mouth."
"Does that mean ..."
"You're only half fairy." Demitri confirmed. "Which is why your magical potential has been shrouded. Our destiny is tied, Tasha." He touched her shoulder. "Let me help you. Together we can find Poppy's murderer and free ourselves from this fate."
"And find herself tied to the Fairy King?" Elvira pushed Demitri away. "If you continue to jump, you will eventually be free. If you marry Demitri, your fate will be tied to him forever."
"No!" Demitri's reply echoed off the glass window. "I mean to end it. Once my full power is restored, I will bestow them upon my brother and renounce the throne."
"Liar," Elvira spat.
The room grew quiet as Demitri and Elvira glared at each other. Tasha took a step back and rested against the bed. Could she trust him to keep his word? Forever was a long time. But how long could she stand to jump from one body to the next? When would it end? Would it end?
"Bind yourself to me, Tasha, and I swear I will make your days and nights memorable, for as long as we both live."
"Mortality? With the dethroned Fairy King?" Elvira stamped her foot. "I won't allow it!"
"You have manipulated the situation long enough, Elvira." Demitri stepped in front of the smaller woman, effectively blocking her from Tasha's view. "Listen to me, Tasha. Please. The choice is yours."
She looked from Demitri to Elvira and longed for the simplicity of Poppy's life. Things had been so much simpler when her only worry had been who was trying to murder her.
What about Poppy?
What about the murderer?
What about her completely screwed up life? Her real life? The one she wanted back?
She dropped the shard of glass with a thud against the Aubusson carpet beneath her. The rug's frayed edges protected a large portion of the planked wooden floor even as her heel dipped against the uneven surface. The carpet, like her fairy godmother, concealed more than it revealed.
Tasha flexed her hand and looked down to find the shard had left a confusing criss-cross indention on her skin. "I don't understand, Elvira. You're supposed to be my fairy god-mother. You're supposed to protect me."
"That's exactly what I've done." Elvira twisted her fingers together, her expression pleading for understanding.
"Is anything you told me the truth?"
"Tasha ..."
"She's not your fairy god-mother." Bracken-slash-Demitri wiped his hands against his coat before he straightened his lapels. "Will you tell her?" He turned to Elvira. "Or shall I?"
Elvira turned away.
"She's your mother." Bracken said more softly.
"I don't have a mother." She shook her head. "It was just Dad and me. I'd know if I had a mother--"
Bracken-slash-Demitri shook his head sadly.
She supposed there could be a chance Elvira was her mother. Even before her hellish first tumble of jumps, Elvira had been part of her life. First as an imaginary friend only she could see, usually at her birthday parties and holidays. Later, after her father died, as an inconstant companion. But, if Elvira was her mother ...
"She's not a fairy god-mother?"
"Of cou..." Elvira shrilled as her hair bounced in time with her temper. "Of course ..." She stilled, tested a breath and clamped her eyes closed for a brief moment. "Of course, I'm a fairy. Are you daft, girl?" She advanced, stretching herself on tip-toe until she was nose to nose with Tasha. "Your grandmother would be turning over in her grave to hear such a thing come out of your mouth."
"Does that mean ..."
"You're only half fairy." Demitri confirmed. "Which is why your magical potential has been shrouded. Our destiny is tied, Tasha." He touched her shoulder. "Let me help you. Together we can find Poppy's murderer and free ourselves from this fate."
"And find herself tied to the Fairy King?" Elvira pushed Demitri away. "If you continue to jump, you will eventually be free. If you marry Demitri, your fate will be tied to him forever."
"No!" Demitri's reply echoed off the glass window. "I mean to end it. Once my full power is restored, I will bestow them upon my brother and renounce the throne."
"Liar," Elvira spat.
The room grew quiet as Demitri and Elvira glared at each other. Tasha took a step back and rested against the bed. Could she trust him to keep his word? Forever was a long time. But how long could she stand to jump from one body to the next? When would it end? Would it end?
"Bind yourself to me, Tasha, and I swear I will make your days and nights memorable, for as long as we both live."
"Mortality? With the dethroned Fairy King?" Elvira stamped her foot. "I won't allow it!"
"You have manipulated the situation long enough, Elvira." Demitri stepped in front of the smaller woman, effectively blocking her from Tasha's view. "Listen to me, Tasha. Please. The choice is yours."
She looked from Demitri to Elvira and longed for the simplicity of Poppy's life. Things had been so much simpler when her only worry had been who was trying to murder her.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Soul Mates
Bracken tightened his grip on the wrinkled old neck.
Elvira squeaked, “You’ll wed her over my dead body.”
“That’s the idea, old woman.”
Tasha tugged on Bracken’s arm. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, dear. This war was waged century’s ago.”
What? Tasha had do something and fast. She grabbed a pitcher from the wash stand and threw it hard against the wall. Pieces flew across the room. The noise should have garnered their attention. But fairy godmother and Bracken remained deadlocked.
Tasha grabbed a large shard of glass and pressed it against her throat. “Everybody listen or the girl gets it!”
Bracken shifted his gaze to Tasha. “What the hell?”
“Let her go or I’ll end it for everybody.”
“You don’t know what you are asking…”
“I think I do. Now let her go.”
Bracken released Elvira. Gasping, the fairy godmother slid to the floor rubbing her neck. “Well, Demetri, you have found her at last, but you’ll not have her, I’ll see to that.”
Tasha stepped between them. “Whoa! Somebody explain what the hell is going on!”
Bracken folded his arms across his chest. “Have you ever wondered why you are continually zapped from one miserable body to the next? Has she ever given you a reasonable explanation?”
Tasha’s mouth flapped open but no words escaped.
Elvira stood. “I’ll tell you why, to keep you safe from the likes of him.”
“What tall, dark and handsome?”
“His real name is Demetrius Alexander. He comes from a long line of philanderers. When the fates matched your souls I vowed to keep you safe from this vile excuse of a man.”
“You mistake me for my father, Elvira.” Turning to Elvira, he pleaded, “Most of what she says is true. My father and his father and his father before him were no good scoundrels but that is their trait, not mine. I have followed you for centuries, always one step behind you.”
Bracken dropped to one knee. “Tasha, don’t you see. If we unite we can end this ludicrous jumping. We can lead a normal life, have children, grow old together, die together. Ours souls belong as one. Marry me Tasha.”
Elvira squeaked, “You’ll wed her over my dead body.”
“That’s the idea, old woman.”
Tasha tugged on Bracken’s arm. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, dear. This war was waged century’s ago.”
What? Tasha had do something and fast. She grabbed a pitcher from the wash stand and threw it hard against the wall. Pieces flew across the room. The noise should have garnered their attention. But fairy godmother and Bracken remained deadlocked.
Tasha grabbed a large shard of glass and pressed it against her throat. “Everybody listen or the girl gets it!”
Bracken shifted his gaze to Tasha. “What the hell?”
“Let her go or I’ll end it for everybody.”
“You don’t know what you are asking…”
“I think I do. Now let her go.”
Bracken released Elvira. Gasping, the fairy godmother slid to the floor rubbing her neck. “Well, Demetri, you have found her at last, but you’ll not have her, I’ll see to that.”
Tasha stepped between them. “Whoa! Somebody explain what the hell is going on!”
Bracken folded his arms across his chest. “Have you ever wondered why you are continually zapped from one miserable body to the next? Has she ever given you a reasonable explanation?”
Tasha’s mouth flapped open but no words escaped.
Elvira stood. “I’ll tell you why, to keep you safe from the likes of him.”
“What tall, dark and handsome?”
“His real name is Demetrius Alexander. He comes from a long line of philanderers. When the fates matched your souls I vowed to keep you safe from this vile excuse of a man.”
“You mistake me for my father, Elvira.” Turning to Elvira, he pleaded, “Most of what she says is true. My father and his father and his father before him were no good scoundrels but that is their trait, not mine. I have followed you for centuries, always one step behind you.”
Bracken dropped to one knee. “Tasha, don’t you see. If we unite we can end this ludicrous jumping. We can lead a normal life, have children, grow old together, die together. Ours souls belong as one. Marry me Tasha.”
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