Gnome On The Range (26 page)

The odd thing about chance, though, was the way it tended to come up and slap him when he wasn't looking.  Dan stared with consternation at the bright orange saucer veering out of control across his vision, aimed directly for his brunette.  "Watch out!"

He jumped from the truck in time to see the rigid plastic disc slam into her right cheek, angle over her head and disappear over the bridge railing into the bay.  Her cell sailed right behind it.

Dan sprinted in her direction but she’d slumped to the pavement, her back against the wheel well of her car, before he could reach her. Kneeling beside her, he placed a hand on her shoulder.  "Are you all right?"

She didn't respond. 

"I didn't mean to hit her!"  The Frisbee thrower squatted next to Dan and watched him remove her cracked sunglasses.  "Oh, man, she's out cold."

Dan clamped a lid on his own spike of concern and thrust both hands into the woman's silky twist of hair.  In the time it took him to run from his truck he'd seen her stagger from the blow to her face, fall against the side mirror, and then ram her head against the doorjamb.  So, it came as no surprise when he located a sizable lump over her left ear.

He examined the welt rising on cheekbone, his curse short, succinct.  Her head cradled in his hands, he brushed his thumbs against her temples.  "Can you hear me?"

The woman’s eyelids fluttered, lifted.  "W-What happened?  H-Harry?  Where's Harry?"

Who the devil was Harry?  Dan gazed into cinnamon brown eyes, fogged with confusion, and experienced a surprising surge of possessiveness.  He couldn't drag his hands away from her fast enough.  "If Harry's the one on your phone, I believe he's now conferencing with the sharks."

"Oh. Oh! He'll kill me!"  She shifted, wrinkled her nose in obvious bewilderment at the sight of her legs stretched in front of her.  "Why am I sitting on the ground?"

The student piped in.  "My Frisbee hit you.  You fell."

"Frisbee?  Fell?"

Dan frowned.  A concussion wasn't out of the question.  Although her pupils didn't appear unequal or dilated, there was a large goose egg behind her ear and a welt across her cheek that grew more red and ugly by the minute.  He searched his brain for the standard questions used on concussion victims.  "What's your name, and who's the President?"

"Tess Emory, and Stuart Webster."

"One out of two isn't bad."  For all he knew, Tess Emory wasn't her name either.

"Oh, man, she doesn't even know—"

Dan glared the student into silence, motioning the kid to her other side so they could both help her to her feet.  "Which is which?" he asked, aware he needed to keep her talking.

"I'm Tess."  She wobbled atop her spiked heels.  "The president's Webster."

Dan quickly calculated the distance to the camper in the back of his truck.  "I think we have a problem.  Webster is not President of the United States."

Her eyes widened.  "Oh. Wait. I thought you meant the president of my company!"  She assured him she did indeed know her country's president.  "Now I know two presidents' names and my own, but I don't know your names."

The student introduced himself and apologized for her injuries.  He wanted to share his doctor's phone number but, when she refused his assistance, he shrugged and walked off to rejoin his buddy sitting on the hood of their car.

Which left Dan where he shouldn't be now that the danger had passed...overwhelmed by the appeal of toffee hair, cinnamon eyes, and spicy scent.  Gasping for air like a wide-mouth bass in the bottom of his boat.  Alone...with his brunette.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Cynthia Woolf's CENTAURI MIDNIGHT:

“Audra, please.  You’re my queen but you’re also my friend.  You must grant me this last request.  Let me go after him.”  Tensign Kiti Dolana paced the beautiful sitting room.  Bile rose in her throat threatened to strangle her.  Finally, she collapsed into a chair it’s soft cushions swallowing her as she sat across the small, highly polished and gleaming, coffee table from the Queen of Centauri, her friend. 

The Queen, pregnant with triplets, her beautifully distended tummy disallowing much frivolous movement, reclined on the couch.  She sat up to pour the tea but had trouble reaching the tea pot in the middle of the coffee table.  “Kiti would you pour our tea, I’m a bit like a beached whale right now.”  Audra was anything but a beached whale.  Kiti knew the colloquial term from her study of Earth. 

Her queen was radiant.  Her long, chestnut hair falling in waves to her waist was gathered on one side of her head.  Her clear gray eyes shone bright  in her pale face.  She wore a beautiful royal purple empire waisted dress that highlighted her pale features.  She was beautiful.  Kiti remembered a time, on their way back to Centauri from Earth, when she’d not thought so, because she was jealous. 

That was before Audra’s marriage to Darius and when she’d still be betrothed to Anton.  Kiti had been in love with Anton, at least she thought she was, and was jealous of Audra.  Some of the things she said were unkind, but Audra had seen them for what they were, jealousy and forgiven her the words.  They were now the best of friends.  

Kiti poured the tea and continued to beseech her queen.  “Audra, you have to let me go after him.  He killed my brother Joridan, his actions led to Anton being captured and tortured.  I need to see they get justice, they deserve it.”

“And you are sure it is only justice you seek?” Audra softly asked.

“Damn it, Audra.”  Kiti was up and pacing the room again.  Her long black hair was tied in a high pony tail and swung back and forth with each step she took.  The thick, plush carpet kept her boots from clicking on the floor.  “I’m begging you to let me go with Garrick Marcus.  It’s not just revenge I need.  I need closure.  I’m the one who should deliver Tybold to the authorities.  Garrick Marcus is the best captain in the fleet and I know Darius is sending him after Tybold.  Joridan needs us both to avenge his death.  To bring his murderer back to Centauri for justice to be served.”

“Kiti, are you combat trained?  We don’t know what to expect from the Proconians.  By this time, Tybold could have convinced them we are conquerors and he’s their only salvation.  We don’t know.  It could be a suicide mission.  I don’t want to lose my best friend.”  She went on.  “I know you’re grieving.  Joridan’s loss and Lara’s return has been very hard on you.”

“Stop.”  Kiti jumped up and started to pace again.  “I know what my life has been like.  I mourn the loss of Joridan life and Anton’s capture and torture by Slavarien.  Joridan was my little brother.  Even though he was a head taller than me he will always be my little brother.  I still smell Joridan’s scent in his room.  Sometimes it’s so fresh it’s like he just passed by.”  Her eyes filled with tears, “I miss the closeness that Anton and I once shared but I do not bemoan him finding Lara.  I’m very happy he found his lifemate.  It was something he never thought to be able to do.  After the torture that both Anton and Lara suffered at the hands of the Slavariens, it’s amazing that they found each other.  I wish I had a lifemate out there somewhere.

“Audra, I’m a historian and anthropologist, but first I’m Dragonera.  Of course, I am combat trained.  All Dragonera are.  We are the Royal Guard.  We are the best.”

“Yes.  You’re right, but I worry anyway.  Must be my maternal instinct.”  Audra patted her belly.

“You know that the people of Procon are centuries behind us technologically.  I’m the only person who can go on this mission that knows anything about their culture.”

“I don’t know,” Audra hesitated.

“Admit it.  Garrick needs me.”

“We don’t interfere in the development of other planets’ civilizations.  You know that.”

“Tybold has already interfered.  I say we’ll be evening the odds for the tribes involved.  And it’s not as though Procon doesn’t know we exist.  They already trade with other planets.  Just because they’re not our technological equals doesn’t mean they aren’t advanced.”

Kiti saw Audra hesitate before she answered.  “I must confer with Darius before I can give you my answer.”

At that moment Darius came in accompanied by Garrick, Anton and Lara.  The three men were in their Dragonera uniforms as was Kiti.  The only differences being the color blocking.  Darius and Garrick wore amethyst uniforms with cream colored sleeves, denoting their status as starship Captains.  Darius’ uniform also had a cream colored stripe from the left shoulder to the waist, denoting that he was Captain of the Royal Guard.  As a general in the Royal Army, Anton’s uniform was solid amethyst.  Lara, Audra’s twin sister, still had the tanned skin from someone who’s spent too much time in the sun.  She wore the House of Danexx royal colors like everyone else did.  Hers were an amethyst jumpsuit and long cream colored duster.  Kiti’s uniform was solid cream.  Her rank as Tensign was denoted by a patch on her left arm.

 “What do you need to discuss with me?” Darius asked as he took his wife’s arm and helped her to rise from the couch.  She gave him a quick kiss.  Darius rubbed her stomach then bent and said, “Hello, my children.  Are you being nice to your mommy today?”

Kiti swore he expected an answer.

“If you don’t quit that people are going to think you’re crazy,” said Audra.

Darius laughed and kissed her belly.

“I am. Crazy in love with my wife.”

Lara made gagging sounds.  ‘Will you two remember that you have an audience?”

“All right.  But you and Anton are just as bad as we are.” Darius said to his soon to be twice over sister-in-law.”

“Never,” retorted Lara.  “No one is as over the moons as you two.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty much over the moons about you,” said Anton waggling his eyebrows at her.

The banter was not aimed at Kiti.  She didn’t think the two couples even remembered they were not alone.  Kiti glanced at Garrick, who rolled his eyes at her.   “Audra, the mission.”  She reminded her queen tapping her wrist to hurry her.

“Oh yes.  Darius, Kiti has requested to be assigned to go with Garrick to Procon, to apprehend Lord Tybold.  I told her I would discuss it with you.”

“I don’t know if she will be needed,”  Darius responded.

Garrick spoke for the first time since entering the room.  “I think an anthropologist would be very useful on this particular mission.  Tensign Dolana would be a definite asset to me in bringing in Tybold.”

“Thank you, Garrick. “  Kiti was warmed by his words and agreed with him one hundred percent.  To her way of thinking, this mission would only succeed with her help.  No one could understand the Proconians better than she could.

“Very well,” said Darius.  “You will receive your orders tomorrow.  In the mean time, can we eat dinner?  I’m a starving man.”

Enjoy the following excerpt for CJ Snyder's WHILE YOU WERE DEAD:

Prologue

Twelve years ago

Kat Jannsen didn’t cry the day they buried Maxwell Crayton. 

Plenty of others did.  Mourners gathered four and five deep around the long, flag-draped coffin.  Even more had packed the church, but Kat skipped the God part. 

She stayed back by a tree, feeling out of place, uninvited, unwelcome and wondering about the flag.  Military?  What other secrets had he kept? 

Kat couldn’t say why she’d come.  Except she’d loved him, as she’d never loved another human being in her life.  So much hope about to be buried in that coffin.  So many dreams.  So much despair left behind.

His actual death shouldn’t have made a difference.  He’d been missing for two months before he died.  He’d tossed her away like a used Sunday paper three months before that. 

Now Kat shivered in the cold, sleeting rain.  She gave her head a vicious shake, warding off the tears that threatened for the first time in days.  She straightened her shoulders.  You will not cry.  She had no right to attend the family’s service, but she represented someone who did. 

Her gaze darted over the ring of mourners.  They were folding the flag.  In just moments she’d know.  They’d give the flag to Miriam, the sister who’d raised him.  Miriam.  Kat’s baby’s one chance at a sane life.  Anguish wrenched her heart.  Sorrow for Max, sorrow for this baby she already loved too much to keep.  Kat fought her tears so she could see the woman who held her future—her child’s very life—in her hands.

The soldier stopped in front of an older woman and Kat frowned.  Miriam was forty-three, fifteen years older than Max.  This woman looked a decade older than that.  Too old?  No.  She couldn’t be too old.  Women had babies in their forties all the time.  Bereavement might make her look older. 

An even older man supported Miriam, his arm strong and sturdy around her shoulders.  Five others surrounded them, forming a protective half-circle around the couple.  Two nephews, Max’d said.  Nephews with wives, or at least girlfriends?  Grown nephews?  The woman turned her head in response to something her husband said and Kat caught her breath, nearly undone by the naked pain on the face that so closely resembled Max’s own.  The resemblance was nearly as close as that between her own mother and herself.

So this was Miriam.  So much grief.  She must have loved her brother very much.  But Kat hadn’t expected her to be so old.  She’d pictured a warm, loving younger couple.  For just a moment, she sagged back against the tree. 

It’s never easy, Kat.  Max’s words, and before that her mother’s.  Words to live by.  Why would she expect this to be any different?

You don’t have a choice, Kat.  Unless you damn your sweet baby before it even draws a breath.

All true.  No choices, no options, except to entrust her innocent child into the hands of fate.  No.  Better to trust Miriam.

More movement at the graveside.  Mourners began to greet Miriam and her husband.  Time to go.  Kat wouldn’t intrude today.  But soon.  There wasn’t much time.