Dead Reckoning

by C. J. Snyder

  The store was tasteful considering the offerings. The walls were a fresh white, shelves and displays just like you’d find at the typical department store. Then tasteful made way for tacky. Gold toned industrial carpet like you’d see in Vegas, a photo of a naked woman sprawled artfully across a bearskin rug over the counter. A sixties chandelier graced the meager entry. Goldie had to put her unique stamp on things somehow.

  It wasn’t a big store, just one room with a storage area and bathroom in back. Whatever she didn’t have in stock—although you'd be amazed at the selection Goldie offered in such a small space—we ordered in. Montanans were patient shoppers. With few options store-wise in Bozeman, most people ordered everything but the basics from the Internet. There’s one Walmart, one Target, one Old Navy. Only one of everything. In a big city, if you drove two miles you came across a repeat store. Urban sprawl at its finest. Not here, although there were two sets of Golden Arches. One in town and one off the highway for the tourists who needed a Big Mac on the way to Yellowstone. The anchor store of the town’s only mall was a chain bookstore. No Nordstrom or Bass Pro Shop out here. You shopped local or you went home.

  In the case of the woman in front of me, I wished she’d just go home.

  Don’t get me wrong, I liked helping people and I’m comfortable talking sex toys with anyone. But this time was definitely different. Big time. Behind Miss Waffler stood a fireman. A really attractive, tall, well muscled one wearing a Bozeman Fire T-shirt and navy pants. Can you say hot? A hot man in uniform? Yup, it was a cliché, but this one was dead-on accurate. He’d come in while I was comparing the various dildo models before I went into the perks of having rotation for best female stimulation. The first time.

  “Can you explain the features of each one again?” Miss Waffler had her fingers on the edge of the glass counter as if she were afraid to touch them. Petite, she was slim to the point of anorexic. Her rough voice said smoker, at least a pack a day. Her skin was weathered, either from cigarettes or the Montana weather, and wrinkles had taken over her face. She’d be pretty if she ate something and kicked the habit.

  I gave her my best fake smile. “Sure.” I darted a glance at the fireman over the woman’s shoulder. Sandy hair trimmed military short, blue eyes, strong features. Thirties. A great smile. He seemed perfectly content to wait his turn. If the humorous glint in his eye and the way he bit his lip, most likely to keep from smiling, was any indication, he was clearly enjoying himself. A radio squawked on his belt and he turned it down. Obviously my lesson on sexual aids was more important than a five-alarm fire.

  Miss Waffler was completely oblivious of, and unaffected by, the fireman. I now knew why she wanted a dildo. I picked up a bright blue model. “This one is battery powered and vibrates. Three settings. Good for clitoral stimulation.” I put it down and picked up another. “This one is glass. No batteries, so it’s meant for penetration. The best thing about it is you can put it in the freezer or warm it and it provides a varied experience.”

  The woman made some ah sounds as I gave the details. I went through all the possibilities with her one at a time. I got to the tenth and final model. “This one is obviously realistic. It’s actually molded from the erect penis of a porn star. It’s made of silicone and has suction cups on the base.”

  Fireman peered over the woman’s shoulder as I suction cupped the dildo to the glass counter. Thwap.

  “You can attach it to a piece of furniture if you want to keep your hands free.” Both fireman and Miss Waffler nodded their heads as if they could picture what I was talking about. “I’ll take that one,” she said as she pointed to number ten. The eight inch Whopper Dong. “Good choice.”

  I rang up Miss Waffler’s purchase and she happily went off to take care of business. And there he was. Mr. Fireman. And me. And dildo display made three.

  “Um…thanks for waiting.” I tucked my curly hair behind an ear.

  “Sure. You learn something new every day.” He smiled. Not just with his mouth, but with his eyes. Very blue eyes. Right there, in the middle of my mother-in-law’s sex store, dildos and all, there was a spring thaw in my libido. It had long since gone as cold as Montana in January. Who could have blamed it with all of my dead husband’s shenanigans? But right then I felt my heart rate go up, my palms sweat from nerves. The fireman didn’t seem the least bit phased by my little sex toy talk. I, on the other hand, was having a hot flash like a menopausal woman just looking at him.

  “I’m Jane. What can I help you with today?” Hi, I’m Jane. I’m thirty-three. I like hiking in the mountains, cross-country skiing, I’m a Scorpio, and I want to rip that uniform off your hot body. I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts.

  He laughed and held out his hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm and a little rough. “Ty. Thanks, but no toys for me.” A pager beeped. He looked at it briefly and ignored it. “Don’t you need to answer that? A fire or something?” I asked.

  “Cat up a tree,” he joked.

  I laughed, and heard my nerves in it. I took a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart. It didn’t work. All it did was make me discover how good he smelled. It wasn’t heavy cologne. Soap maybe. I didn’t really care if it was deodorant. He smelled fabulous.

  “Actually, it was for station two. I’m here for your fire safety inspection.” He placed papers on the counter. Had he been holding them all this time? I hadn’t noticed. For the next fifteen minutes we went over fire inspection paperwork with an elephant in the room the shape of a dildo.

  Ready for more? Get Gnome On The Range at Amazon!

  Excerpt from Centauri Dawn

  By Cynthia Woolf

  “Come with me.” He held out his hand, willing her to come to him, to make a leap of faith. She wanted to. Wanted to take his hand, let him lead her where he would. Still she hesitated.

  Her body yearned, felt the calling of some ancient instinct.

  Her logical, rational mind, said ‘no’ this is only a dream. You’ll leave everyone you love behind if you go with him. But her heart heard the call and expanded with joy.

  She lifted her hand, “I don’t know you.”

  “Look at me, Princess. You know me. Your heart knows me. Trust it. Trust what you feel.” His deep, rich baritone, softly washed over her, filling a void long forgotten. Audra stared as the man beckoned her. Stared at the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Jet-black hair, worn cropped yet long enough to run her fingers through. Strong, square jaw and...his eyes. They mesmerized, so deep and dark a blue it was as if they were a gift from the god Poseidon. Just a little of his ocean domain gathered at the stroke of midnight and given to a mortal man.

  Lips, full and sensual, invited her to explore their very depths. His uniform fit like a second skin, molding itself to his incredible body. The uniform did little to hide, but rather accentuated his form, from his wide shoulders, to his abs and on down. She watched the muscles play across his chest as he extended his hand to her.

  “Princess. Your people need you. Come with me now.” He looked down at her, eyes glittering, his smile warm and inviting. “What of my family? What of my life here? Why should I give it up? For what?” “Princess, I can only offer you danger, adventure, and the undying love of your people.” “And you? What do you get?”

  He smiled at her. “My lifemate.” Closing the gap between them for the first time, he reached out and stroked her cheek. “You.”

  ###

  “Princess Dayanara.”

  Snuggling deeper into the blankets, Crown Princess Dayanara, heir to the throne of Sunaru on the planet Centauri rolled away from the sound. Darius Coridian’s patience strained. “Princess, you must awaken.”

  She tossed and turned in her sleep, burying her head in the pillow.

  “Wake up!” he commanded.

  “Ugh.” Sleep laced her voice. Reaching over she nudged the clock on the nightstand toward her and hit the top of it. “It’s too early,” she groaned, rolled flat on her stomach Shaking his head--decoru
m be damned--he shook her by her bare shoulders. Sitting bolt upright, she screamed, then scrambled backward over and off the bed, landing with a thump. He winced. Leaning over the bed, he looked down at her sprawled form. “Are you injured?” “Who the hell are you? Get out of here before I call the police.”

  He moved closer to her, reaching out a hand. “May I assist you?”

  “No! Leave me alone,” she screamed, struggling to get to her feet. She lunged across the bed, reaching for the telephone. “Now, Princess, please calm down.” Darius dropped her pillow, reached for the phone, and ripped it from the wall. “I mean you no harm, but we must talk and there is little time.” He fell to one knee, bowing in front of her.

  Her eyes wide with fear, she grabbed the next available object, a tiny pink lamp on the bedside table. She held it out in front of her like a sword and then swung at him. He deflected the blow with his forearm as he stood, denting the lampshade in the process.

  “Princess. Someone is going to get hurt if you don’t allow me to speak.” He wrestled the mangled lamp from her. “Hear what I have to say. Please,” he implored. “You must return home. Immediately.”

  “Help! Somebody help me!” Screaming, she kicked out at him with her foot, trying to take his head off. Her attempt at self-defense was pitiful; her skills no match for his. Blocking her kick with one arm, he grabbed her leg with both his hands flipped her completely around and back to the floor. “No one can hear you. Stop screaming.” Darius could not help but notice her garment actually her lack of garment. It was held on her body by two thin straps and dipped dangerously low in front, revealing the firm, creamy mounds of her breasts. Very short to begin with and holding her leg in his hand he saw clear up to where her thighs met and knew she wore nothing underneath the slippery material. He couldn’t help but notice her legs, well formed and as perfect as the rest of her.

  Audra stopped to catch her breath. Breathing hard, she rolled to her back and eyed him from stem to stern. “You look like you just came from a Star Trek convention.” And just like the man in my dream. Could it be? She’d had dreams come true before, but nothing like this. Never about a man. At least never about a man like this one. Oh, no. She would have remembered him, in her dreams or in reality. She definitely would have remembered him.

  “Yes, I have trekked across the stars in search of you, Princess.” His words were odd, clipped, very formal, as though learned from a book.

  “What are you talking about?” This man, dream or not, was in her bedroom and she could not imagine how in the world he got in here.

  She yanked at the straps of her gown, resettling them on her shoulders. What she wouldn’t give for her cotton flannel granny gown at the moment.

  He held out his hand to help her up but she swatted it away.

  “Who are you? Really? How did you get in here and...and who are you?” she repeated. She lunged for the lamp in his hands.

  Placing the lamp out of her reach, he said. “I am Coridian, brother of your betrothed.” He bowed, again. “I am here to escort you home.”

  “Betrothed? You’ve escaped from the asylum, haven’t you? You’re some kind of nut and...” She scrambled to stand up and moved closer to the window, judging the distance to the ground. He smiled. “My lady, I am not an escapee from an asylum, and I am not a pecan.” “Then, why do you keep spouting nonsense? I’m not a princess!”

  “May I rise?” He didn’t wait for her to answer but stood, towering over her. “I’ll explain--.” She shook her head and backed up a step. “You--”

  Coridian held up his hand to stop her. “Then you can ask your questions.”

  “You--you stay right where you are.”

  He nodded.

  In the next instant, she reached low for the lamp, threw it at his head and bolted for the door. He leapt forward and caught her before she’d taken two steps, slamming her up against his chest, trapping her there within his arms. The lamp crashed to the floor, shattered.

  Kicking wildly, Audra connected with his groin. His knees buckled, but he was quick to recover and never loosened his hold on her. She twisted, freed an arm, and slammed the heel of her hand into his face. If he hadn’t turned, she would have broken his nose. Her strike was solid enough though, she heard him groan in pain before he released her.

  She spun around, connecting her foot with his solar plexus, knocking the wind from him. Now on the attack she jumped up, slammed both her feet into his chest sending him flat on his back. Regaining her balance before he did, she straddled his chest, pressing her hand against his throat, with his jugular in her fingers.

  “Now. Tell me what I want to know or I’ll make sure you don’t see another day.” He smiled, actually smiled at her. “I have told you who I am. Only your aunt can tell you more. I have no wish to harm you, my lady.” He waggled his brows at her, his eyes falling to half-mast. “I rather like you sitting on me like this.”

  “Are you mad? I could kill you.” She squeezed his jugular for emphasis. He didn’t flinch or even look pained. Instead, he bucked sideways, sending her flying to the floor. Before she could rise, he had her back on the floor, straddled her, his hands pressed her shoulders down to keep her immobile.

  “Now. Are you ready to listen?”

  Looking up at him, she finally nodded. He removed his hands, rising swiftly to his feet.

  She ignored his outstretched hand, stood and stepped away from him, her gaze darting toward the door.

  Smiling, he shook his finger at her. “Do not even think it. I would have you before you took two steps. Again.” Raising her chin, she nodded. She wasn’t afraid of him...her dream man. Somehow she felt, no she knew, that this man would never hurt her, would rather die than cause her pain. How did she know that? “Fine. Tell me what you want and get out.”

  Walking to the window, he gave her some space. “I am Coridian. Darius Coridian. My brother, Anton, is your betrothed. He sent me here to bring you home. To Centauri.” “Anton?” Her confusion had to be evident even to this moron. “I don’t know any Anton and I’ve never heard of Centauri.” “Allow me to finish. You are Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Dayanara, and heir to the throne of the country of Sunaru on the planet Centauri in the system you know as planet Alpha Centauri, approximately four light years from here.

  “You have been living here on Earth for the last twenty-two years. This was done to protect you from your enemies. Now, however, both of your parents are dead and you must return with me to claim your throne and marry my brother.”

  Audra bit the inside of her lip, and then unable to control herself, she burst out laughing. Grabbing her middle, she bent over, her body wracked with spasms of laughter. He raised an eyebrow, and gave her a look she was sure had sent many a grown man scampering for cover. “This is not the time for humor.” She laughed even harder, tears running freely from her eyes. “You’ve got the wrong woman. My name is Audra, Diane Audra Cantwell to be exact. Do you really expect me to believe that malarkey you just spouted?”

  Finally, she stopped laughing. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she walked over to the closet and pulled on her robe, which covered her from neck to toes. She then sat on the edge of the bed. “Well, I guess you aren’t dangerous or you would have murdered me already. So who are you? Really?”

  “I told you who I am. Really.” He sounded exasperated. “Do you not see the similarity between your Centaurion name and the name they call you here? Princess Margareta can verify all I have told you.”

  “You mean my mother, Margaret? Her name is Margaret Cantwell.”

  “Princess Margareta is not your mother. I have told you, your parents are dead.” “You’re lying.” If looks could kill, he would be dead. “My mother is alive.”

  “You try my patience, Princess, deliberately, I suspect.” He stiffened. “The woman who raised you, Princess Margareta, is your aunt, and she will verify everything I have just said.” “My mother is going to verify your story?” She snapped her fingers. “J
ust like that?” “Yes, just like that.” He snapped back, mimicking her.

  Pacing the room, her bare feet sunk into the realtor-beige carpet covering the entire apartment. “Let’s say I believe you, not that I do but, for the moment, let’s pretend.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he nodded.

  “Now, let me see if I’ve got this straight. I’m not Audra Cantwell. I’m a princess from outer space, named Dayanara. And my mother, who’s not really my mother, will verify all of this?” He nodded. She slumped onto the thick comforter covering her bed. “This has got to be a dream.” She pinched herself. “Ouch! Okay, I’m not asleep. So, then, I’ve lost my mind. I’m delusional. Any second now, my nightmare self will sprout fangs and wings and swallow my head in some disgusting way.” Shivering she said, “No, I better not even think that or I’ll dream it and that would not be good.”

  “You are not delusional. I know this is much to assimilate. If there were more time I would have told you more slowly, but unfortunately there is no more time. Princess Margareta should have prepared you for this moment. ” His jaw clenched as he emphasized each of the last words.

  “You’ve got the wrong girl.” She shoved off the bed, wrapping her arms about her. “This can’t be happening to me.”

  “Princess.” He stood next to her, but did not touch her. “Audra. Look at me.” She did and looked up into those dark, midnight blue eyes, framed with inky, incredibly thick lashes...and felt an instant, and unwelcome thrill of recognition. It was the same as in her dream. His proximity made her aware of nothing but him. The room seemed smaller, the air thinner. Her heart beat faster to accommodate her racing pulse.