A Barrel of Vintner - Chapter 4

Yesterday was rather soothing. When I woke up around three in the afternoon, Mother Nature delivered a steady snow. The so-called experts said it would only be a dusting, but we had three inches by the time DH took out the pups for their final constitutional last night.

There's something inherently peaceful in that muffled whiteness. Mother Nature placing a new canvas on her easel in preparation for spring colors. And like her, I find creating during a snowfall inspirational.

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Our carriages rolled through the Temple District and climbed the steep hill to the royal palace. The street zigzagged to make it easier on the horses and other beasts of burden. After I gave myself my peculiar sight, I watched my fellow novices from the other eleven Temples run up and down this very road while I was confined to my quarters. As part of my punishment after I was allowed to attend lessons again, I was ordered to join the sighted novices in their exercise.

Because of the sharp rise in altitude of the hill, the walls surrounding the royal estate sat well below the palace itself. It was the first time I visited the royal home since I’d left Standora to ride circuit in the eastern half of the Duchy of Orrin. From here, the queen and her advisors could see the entire Bay of Standora. Even for me, the view was quite spectacular as I climbed out of the prince consort’s carriage.

The hills surrounding the bay rose sharply from the water. Reinforced terraces kept the buildings, parks, and gardens from sliding into the frigid waters below. With the coming of spring, caravels had resumed their travels through the narrow passage of the bay to the Peaceful Sea while sailboats and ferries crisscrossed to the opposing sides of the bay. The smaller watercraft allowed people and goods to continue their land journeys north, south, and east by foot or animal. On tiny White Island near the entrance to bay, a combined watchtower and lighthouse rose in a slim golden column against the purple-blue of the water.

“Chief Justice?” the prince consort said.

I turned to him and inclined my head. “My apologies, Your Highness. I haven’t seen the view from here in a long time.”

“You may gaze at the sights afterward.” He smiled, amused at my distraction. “The queen awaits.”

“Of course.” I followed him and Luc up the steps and through the main doors of the palace. Our wardens followed close behind. I hoped the prince hadn’t been too rough with them. My actions often took them by surprise, so I couldn’t fault them for not reacting until I was a block away from the royal carriages. I hoped the prince hadn’t given them a tongue-lashing for my actions.

If he had, Jonata would be sure to mention it later in private. The normally quiet warden had become quite vocal during our mission to Jing and back. What I’d taken for shyness had been her studying the relationships within Balance before speaking out. But I had no doubts about her loyalty. After the fiasco with my birth mother at Love, I had to truthspell everyone at Balance, including poor Jonata after she arrived to replace Aglaia. My newest warden had responded with grace instead of resentment.

The oddness of the palace atmosphere intruded on my musings. Even with the tall windows pulling light inside from every direction around the hilltop palace, a darkness cloaked the place and the people. The staff murmured in hushed tones, and only spoke when they must. There was none of the gaiety I remembered under Queen Teodora’s reign. Nor did this uneasy quiet feel like grief.

While Queen Chiara was slightly more serious than her mother prior to Teodora’s death, the somber mood didn’t match our new queen’s usual passion either. We had many talks while Queen Chiara and the prince consort sorted out the timeline and the post-fight analysis of the Battle of Tandor. A suspicion murmured in the back of my mind that the solemnity in the palace and the extra grieving banners were connected.

Luc and I followed Prince White Eagle across the palace’s great hall. I wished I could borrow Luc’s sight for a moment to see the details on the tapestries that lined the walls. They described the history of the Chumash people and the coming of the Toscans and Britons to help rebuild after the demons' devastating attack centuries ago. But viewing them for the first time in my life was not to be.

At least, not at the moment with the prince consort’s swift strides.

The prince led us through a door on the right side of the great hall and down another corridor to a receiving room. I’d never been past the public area of the fortress before. The private area’s décor was nearly as austere as that of a Temple of Balance.

A simple large round wooden table sat in the middle of the room. A huge iron chandelier hung over the table, but no alabaster Light globes currently sat on the sockets meant for them. Windows on the southern wall overlooked the central courtyard where the staff worked. Generally, there was laughter. People entertained each other with stories and songs while they went about their tasks. The relative quiet was very odd when the majority of folks down there were Chumash.

Having grown up in Issura, I thought of myself more Chumash than Diné, even though I had no Chumash blood as far as I knew. If I did, it would have come from my maternal grandfather’s line, and Kam was rather sure the majority of his ancestors were Britons from the diaspora with the exception of his own maternal grandmother who was Toscan. He claimed to get his love of fine cooking from her.

To my great relief, neither Reverend Mother Alara of Balance nor Reverend Father Farrell of Light were present in the room when we entered. However, Reverend Father Grey Shadow of Thief was already seated, along with Reverend Mother Sxa’min of Love and High Sister Imala, the projected favorite to replace the leader of their Temple, Reverend Father Ninumu of Knowledge, and Reverend Mother Brigid of Vintner. And of course, their chief wardens. Prince White Eagle quickly made the introductions. No sooner had Luc and I taken our seats the prince indicated next to him when the door opened once again.

Queen Chiara swept into the room. Unlike the gowns her mother preferred, she wore a cotton tunic and leggings along with sturdy boots. The wardens stood at attention as did the two royal guards. The rest of us rose to our feet and bowed. What I didn’t expect was the gigantic dog at the queen’s side. It was easily the size of a small pony. Except…

I cocked my head at the subtle sensation of intelligence in the huge beast’s eyes. A Wildling, I realized. His talent was just underneath obvious perception.

“Sit down,” the queen commanded. “We have too much to discuss to waste the time on frivolity and egos. My love, if you would?”

I half-expected the Temple leaders to be taken aback by the queen’s cavalier attitude. Instead, all of them broke out in grins. Even Luc smirked a bit. We all resumed our seats while the prince warded the room.

When he finished and sat next to his wife, Queen Chiara addressed me.

“Anthea, I don’t get into Temple business—” Her statement elicited chuckles from everyone at the table but me. Even the Wildling laughed like a dog, with his tongue lolling out of the side of his muzzle. “—why didn’t you file formal charges against Ogusuku?”

I shrugged. “It was unnecessary. His true goal was to undermine Reverend Mother Fumiko. When I accidentally fell into a demon hole in Naha, it gave him ammunition to use against her.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Ogusuku, Your Majesty,” Reverend Father Grey Shadow murmured. “With the outcry on Anthea’s behalf, Thief has removed him from office.”

His tone sent a chill down my spine. Ogusuku wasn’t just removed as Ryukyu’s Reverend Father of Thief. He was dead, his ashes scattered Balance knew where.

“Is Reverend Father Biming to be removed as well?” I asked. Surely, Shi Hua would have said something in our weekly talks if he’d been fatally reprimanded by his fellow Reverend Fathers of Thief.

“Should he be?” Grey Shadow’s right eyebrow rose.

I consider my next words carefully since a man’s fate hung on them. “Biming’s purpose has always been to protect Emperor Po. And frankly, no one had ever come back from a demon hole, so I would have had the same suspicions he did. However, he backed off his accusations after I was initially truthspelled. Ogusuku did not. Plus, Reverend Mother Xiang also asked if I was sure I didn’t want to file charges. As I told her, if I weren’t on a diplomatic mission on behalf of the queen of Issura, I would consider it. But Queen Teodora ordered me to get Emperor Po home safely for his coronation. Queen Chiara didn’t countermand that order. To my mind, his safety and that of Empress Shi Hua took precedence over any slight against me.”

I turned to the queen. “Or am I incorrect?”

The corners of the queen’s mouth curved. “You really should have been in Thief.”

“That would not be a good idea, Your Majesty,” I said. “Thief requires subtlety, and I’m about as subtle as a bull in heat.”

The Temple leaders and the prince roared with laughter. Luc, the royal guards, and the wardens snickered. My statement even drew a real smile from the queen.

“We’ll discuss matters regarding Jing later, Anthea.” Queen Chiara sobered. “We have a new problem.”

“The spate of deaths after the loss of your mother.”

“Including my mother.” The queen turned to Reverend Mother Brigid. “Do you have a sample from the shipment you confiscated?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The Reverend Mother pulled a glass vial from a pocket inside her robes. “Whatever you do, Anthea, Luc, please don’t pull out the cork.” She handed the vial to Luc.

I laid a hand on his shoulder and examined the contents through his eyes and my own odd sight before I looked at the Reverend Mother. “I don’t understand. It looks like pain powder.”

“That’s what civilians thought when they took a dose.” Her eyes shimmered with yellow tears. “It’s concentrated soma tears boiled down to a powder form. Only a few grains will kill a child under five winters, elderly adults, or those already in ill health.”

Fury flowed from Queen Chira. “Queen Teodora took a small amount of pain powder every night to ease her joint pain enough to sleep. But with her weak heart, the concentrated tears killed my mother before any of us knew what was happening.”

Sapphire - Chapter 4

I'm at my last stop of my two tour of the eastern seaboard. There's a certain quiet at this friend's house. She works in her office while I write in her dining room. Her cats are quietly napping the dreary afternoon away, and the birds are attempting to court before early evening brings thunderstorms.

And here is some proof that I'm actually writing.

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Allophane’s shoes took her and her companions to the green bricks surrounding the golden fountain in the royal palace’s main courtyard. For once, Beryl took a step before she caught her balance. In the past, Allophane had deliberately landed facing the fountain so her sister protector would land in the water because of her dizziness. However, Beryl would not stop taking shortcuts when it came to magic. No matter how many times Allophane offered to show Beryl how to enchant her own pair of shoes. She deserved the dunking if she was going to be so lazy.

But Jellia didn’t deserve to land face first in the fountain, so Allophane had adjusted her landing accordingly. She grabbed the girl’s arm to keep her from tumbling onto the bricks and harming herself. She trembled under Allophane’s touch.

“Are you all right, Jellia?” she asked gently. “I know traveling by enchanted shoes can be—”

The poor maid whirled away and expelled the contents of her stomach all over the pristine green bricks.

A soldier with a long green beard tucked into his uniform belt marched up to them and saluted. “Do you need assistance, Lady Allophane, Lady Beryl?”

“A mop,” Beryl said with a scowl.

“Greeting, Private Amby.” Allophane knelt next to Jellia. “Are you sure you’re all right, my dear? I’m so sorry. Traveling by my shoes often makes any companion I carry dizzy, but no one has ever become ill.”

The girl fished in a pocket and produced a handkerchief, which she used to wipe her mouth. “I’ll be all right, m’lady. I’ve never had vertigo that bad before.”

“At least Allophane didn’t dump you into the fountain,” Beryl said dryly.

“At least you remembered to hang on to my belt this time,” Allophane responded sweetly. She wasn’t going to let Bery get under her skin. Not today of all days. The protectors needed to provide a united front against the nobles for the princess’s sake.

Allophane turn to Private Amby. “Would you please escort Jellia to our rooms, Private? We wish to speak with the vizier immediately.”

“Immediately, my lady.” The soldier bowed again before he raised a silver whistle to his lips.

At the shrill sound, a matronly maid dressed in the green uniform of the palace household scurried down the steps from the wide-open gold-framed glass doors. She curtsied to the witches before she looked inquiringly up at Private Amby.

“Please assist Miss Jellia with taking the protectors’ bags to their suite while I escort the ladies to see the vizier.”

The palace maid bobbed her head and gestured for the witches to hand over their bags, which they did. However, Beryl leaned close to Jellia’s ear and whispered something. Jellia nodded and followed the green-clad maid into the palace.

Allophane gritted her teeth. She didn’t need to hear Beryl’s words to know her sister protector had ordered poor Jellia to not let the palace staff unpack their luggage. Such a command was embarrassing, both for the witches and for the royal household.

If this was the first salvo in Beryl and Willis’s plan to take over Oz, it chilled Allophane to her very bones. They simply couldn’t afford to antagonize any of the people of Oz if they wanted a peaceful transfer of power.

However, Private Amby didn’t hesitate at their request. “This way, m’ladies.”

Perhaps the situation was more dire than they presumed if the palace staff didn’t offer a chance to refresh themselves and simply obeyed the witches orders.

The soldier led the way through the open glass doors. He turned right, but he passed by the vizier’s office along the hallway.

Allophane’s heart pounded. Maybe Beryl and Willis were correct to be concerned about the nobles after all. The soldier led them toward Pastoria’s office. She never thought Vizier Meenor would stoop to seize the throne.

No. Allophane took a deep calming breath. She needed to be patient and analyze all the facts before she took any action. She’d feel better once the other witch protectors arrived.

The soldier stopped before the gold and emerald trimmed doors of the royal offices and knocked. A muffled voice said, “Enter.”

The soldier opened the door for Beryl and Allophane and waved them inside. To her surprise and relief, Locasta and Mombi along with Vizier Meenor sat at the huge round mahogany table inlaid with gold and emeralds around its edge.

He rose and greeted Allophane and Beryl warmly with kisses on both cheeks of each woman. “I’m so glad all of you are responding so promptly to the sad tidings I had to announce. I’ve sent for refreshments as we wait for the arrival of the Quadling and Winkie protectors. I hope you don’t mind that we use the monarch’s office for this meeting. I do

not intend any impropriety, but this is the only room except for the throne room and the royal dining hall to hold all of us for this meeting.” “I’d be more upset by you sitting on the throne for this meeting,” Beryl snapped.

“You must forgive my sister protector of Munchkin Country,” Allophane said to Meenor. “Beryl was greatly distraught by your news.”

“No, I’m irritated having to wait for the others.” Beryl crossed her arms and scowled.

A wry chuckle came from Locasta, her purple curls bouncing along with her humor. “Teleportation is so much faster. A pity the others dislike it so.”

“But flying is much less dizzying,” Mombi grumbled. Or maybe her dizziness had more to do with how tight of a knot her violet hair had been wound.

“However, it does have its advantages,” Allophane murmured as she took her chair at the table.

Beryl lowered herself into the seat between Allophane and Meenor’s. The monarch’s delicately carved chair opposite of Meenor’s place would remain empty until little Ozma came of age.

Allophane glanced at her fellow Munchkin Country protector. Beryl’s expression was carefully neutral, except her knuckles where she grasped the arms of her chair stood out even more whitely than her pale skin. Now, what in Oz has her so wound up? She hadn’t seemed all that concerned about Pastoria’s passing.

“We hope the princess is in good health,” Allophane said to Meenor.

He nodded. “The wet nurse expects to wean her within the next two months now that she’s started eating porridge and apple sauce.” His smile was rather melancholy. “Princess Ozma has a hearty appetite, and she’s growing by leaps and bounds.”

Beryl snorted. “Please don’t let her grow fat and lazy. The people won’t respect a ruler who literally cannot perform her duties as our liege.”

“The princess—” Mombi began hotly just as the doors to the monarch’s office burst open.

“The queen shall be respected within her own palace,” Glinda’s voice rang out as she entered the room.

A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 4

After spending my vacation travel time editing and a good month recovering from eye surgery, I'm slowly getting back into the writing groove. Here's next unedited chapter of A Cup of Conflict.

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Later that night, I supped by myself in a tavern at the next caravanserai. As alone as I could be. Long Feather and Jonata sat at a nearby table where they could watch me without them being in my line of sight. Yet, I couldn’t avoid the familiarity of their spirits.

Darys stalked up to my table and straddled the bench on the other side. Her wardens moved past us, no doubt joining my own guards at the table behind me.

“You can’t continue blaming yourself for random misfortune,” she boldly stated in Issuran.

I straightened. “You have no real knowledge about me. And you are stepping beyond your rank, Sister.”

“Maybe I am,” she replied. “However, I am not your enemy, Chief Justice. We have the same duty to perform—keep the Jing emperor alive long enough to reach Chengzhou.”

“Go away.”

“I see.” She smiled and switched to Jing. “Do you truly believe that by driving away other people, your heart will not be broken by loss?”

However, I wasn’t falling for her trap, and I refused to play her word games. “You are not from Child, and this is a public place,” I snapped in Issuran.

She shook her head, but she resumed speaking in Issuran. “Maybe you should speak with one of Shang’s people. You’re not the only one who has lost comrades in this war, and I have no doubt I will lose people I care about before it’s over.”

I relaxed a bit. “So, you believe the demon war is not over?”

“Balance is noted for saying exactly what She means, Lady Justice.” Darys shrugged. “According to Her Revelation at the Kemet capital, we have one more generation to go before we will defeat the demons.”

It was my turn to test the Thief priestess. Using my eating sticks, I retrieved a vegetable from my bowl and held it up. “What is this?”

Darys frowned at my abrupt change of subject. “I don’t know the Issuran word for it, but the Jing term is ‘pak choi’. Our Temple of Knowledge says it’s related to cabbage.”

“Sister, do you think the other plants in the garden miss this particular pak choi?”

“I don’t know.”

“You seem to spend a great deal of time with Knowledge,” I said. “Do they have any treatises on the emotions and intelligence of plants?”

“I’ve never searched for such information before.” Her frown deepened. “What is the purpose of your question?”

“During our trip to Diné, Brother Sisquoc of Wildling and I discussed why the demons focus on humans and not any other life form in the World.” I examined the leafy chunk of vegetable. “According to the Temple of Wildling, all life is interconnected. If we have thoughts and feelings, and animals have the similar thoughts and feelings according to the Wildlings’ experiences, he conjectured that plants must as well.”

“It makes sense,” she murmured. “Don’t justices pull the memories of stones and plants to learn of deeds around them?”

I nodded. “So, how could anything have a memory if it didn’t also have thought?”

“By your logic, it cannot.” Darys propped her elbows on the table. “Therefore, memories are thoughts we’ve recorded within our spirits. However, I still don’t understand the purpose of your line of questioning.”

“What’s special about humans then?”

“Maybe it is the similarities between humans and the demons that attract them to us.” She paused as the tavern girl asked for her choice in drink and whether the priestess wanted dinner.

Once the girl scurried toward the kitchen, Darys eyed me again. “There’s also the fact they eat us and wear our skins as we would another animal’s. Is this what concerns you? How closely the demons resemble us?”

“Yes,” I said. “And our one fault is we do not regard each other with the same respect we should show to all living things. I believe they regard us with same belief that we have for the animals and plants that nourish us. The only difference is we fight back.”

She shook her head. “You are certainly not what I expected.”

“What’s that supposed mean?” I glared at her.

“According to our own Reverend Mothers of Balance, the prophesized justice who can see would be the one who leads the final battle. I pictured you as a great hero. Someone of conviction. Not someone who doubts her purpose.”

I froze. This was the first time I’d heard about the prophesy outside of Reverend Mother Alara. Maybe the old bat wasn’t yanking my emotions around after all.

Darys frowned. “Have I offended you, Lady Justice?”

“May we continue this discussion in my quarters after you’ve finished your meal?” My tongue wanted to choke on my words. “This is not a conversation we should have in public.”

“Of course.” Darys inclined her head. “You are correct. I should not have mentioned the subject in a public place.”

“And I apologize for my behavior on the road,” I said. “I had no right to inflict my ill temper upon you.”

She smiled and nodded just as the tavern girl arrived with a full tray.

I finished my meal and sipped on another cup of Jing’s cool light-tasting beer while Darys consumed her own meal. We continued to speak of the differences between the Skoloti tribes and Issura, and she taught me a few more words in her language.

When we finished, we left the tavern and headed toward our assigned suites. Our wardens prowled behind us. The crowd parted away from our path, but from the mix of fear and anger wafting from the people, it had more to do with what my Temple robes represented than the recent demon attack on their capital city.

I silently requested Luc, Po, and Shi Hua attend my discussion with Darys as we climbed the steps of the caravanserai. This one was much larger than the caravanserai we had lodged in over the past ten days. It was five stories tall and built of stone, nearly a fortress in and of itself. Po said it acted as a warehouse for the goods flowing into and out of Chengzhou, but I had the impression commerce wasn’t the building’s original purpose.

When we reached the top floor, instead of mine and Luc’s stateroom, we headed toward the suite used by the imperial couple. These days, the Jing guards bowed to us as befitting foreign dignitaries while Mateqai escorted us to Po and Shi Hau’s private sitting room. It was an odd feeling concerning those who had accompanied us across the Peaceful Sea. I no longer viewed them by their rank, but rather honored comrades who survived that horrid voyage. However, it was necessary to adhere to the formalities, given our mission.

Inside the sitting room, Luc bowed before carefully lowering his body to a silk-covered cushion before the Jing emperor and his wife. Two other cushions lay on his right for me and Darys. Jing guards and our own wardens stood against the walls of the room.

Both Darys and I executed the appropriate bows for our ranks before I said, “With your permission, Your Majesty, I would like to ward the room.”

Po nodded and fingered the gold beads on the left-side of his moustache, an indication that he was worried about something. Shi Hua appeared exhausted, her normally bright smile a shadow of itself.

Darys sat on the far right cushion while I circled the room and muttered the words to the warding spell. After I finished, I dropped to the cushion between Luc and Darys. I turned to her.

“Please tell us everything you know concerning your Reverend Mother of Balance’s prophecy about the justice with sight.”

Darys blinked. “You don’t know?”

“The information has been withheld from me, and I have suspicions in regards to the reasons,” I replied. “Nor has the knowledge been shared with Temple of Light, according to the empress and High Brother Luc.”

She remained silent for a long moment. It was the first relatively normal Thief characteristic I’d seen her display since we left the coastal port of Huang He eleven days ago.

Finally, she nodded. “I will tell you about the prophesy on one condition—that you share will me whatever suspicions you have.”

“We’ll agree to your condition with one of own,” Shi Hua said. “You agree to be truthspelled.”

Darys nodded again. “Considering your issues with your own Reverend Father of Thief, I understand your worries, and I agree to your terms, Your Majesty.”

I sucked in a deep breath at the warm tingle of Shi Hua’s power, but Darys didn’t seem a bit surprised it was the Jing empress who laid the truthspell on her.

“If you would start your questioning, Lady Justice,” Po murmured.

Under our previous circumstances, I would have made a borderline rude reply to him about using me as bait. Now, all I felt from him was a gentle flow of trust. I was no longer an oddity he wished to seduce, but a useful ally. And from my discussion with Queen Teodora before we left Orrin, our liege regarded him in the same way.

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. It was one thing to have my suspicions. It was another to have them confirmed, which I had no doubt Darys was about to do.

“When did the Skoloti Reverend Mother of Balance have her premonition?” I murmured.

“Thirty-three winters ago.”

Gorge rose in my throat at the proximity of my conception to the Reverend Mother’s premonition.

“Can you give us the precise time of her prophecy?” Shi Hua asked.

“The Spring Rituals,” Darys and I said at the same time.

Everyone, even the guards and wardens, stared at me. I cleared my throat.

“Did she see the manner in which a justice would gain sight?” Luc asked.

“If you don’t mind, could I tell you the full story as I know it?” Darys smiled. “The tale will answer most of your questions. Then you can slice apart my recitation with your questions.” I glanced at Po.

He nodded and said, “Please continue with your story, Sister Darys.”

To my amazement, it was Mateqai who blurted, “Your Majesties, with all due respect, it would be best if Sister Darys were formally questioned.” He glared at the Skoloti woman. “We had more than enough issues with Thief to warrant it.”

Death Goddess Walking - Chapter 4

Here's a another little taste of Death Goddess Walking (The Books of Apep #1). While I have been working on this series, I'm pushing the Kickstarter campaign to early 2024 in order to make sure all four books are completed prior to launch. I don't need a campaign to be interrupted by major life rolls like the Soccer Moms campaign was.

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Mother Neit, forgive us our offences. Grant us your mercy that we may see the fires of the afterlife and your wisdom that we know the truth that drips from your lips. – Prayer to Neit, The Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut, Deir el-Bahri, Egypt


A different kind of fear forced bile up the back of Billie’s throat. She raised her left hand to shield her eyes from the cruiser’s spotlight, but the snow collecting on the sidewalk reflected the white beam across her retinas. Reasons for being out in this weather raced through her brain, but none of them were remotely plausible enough to satisfy the cops.

The high-pitched yip made her jump. The police officer jerked, too. Snowfall muffled the chung of the second door opening on the SUV. “Keep your hands where we can see them, ma’am,” a male voice said.

Raising both hands, she glanced down at the dog and said, “Thanks a lot, buster.” He had the nerve to wag his tail like their situation was some big joke. Snow floated into the gaping neckline of her coat, sending another round of shivers through her body. Facing the shadowy figures, she said, “I’m sorry, officers. My dog got loose.”

The first officer lowered the spotlight enough the animal was now caught in its beam. “What the hell kind of dog is that?”

“A mutt.” She shot her companion a nasty look. “A pain-in-the-ass mutt.” His tongue hung out in a canine grin as he looked up at her. “One who should have stayed where he was.” But no, she had to feel sorry for the creature.

“He’s a damn ugly mutt.” The male cop started to lower his weapon, but the dog growled and the officer flashed the weapon back up in the canine’s direction.

Billie lowered a hand and flicked the closest pointed ear. “Hush. You’ve gotten us in enough trouble.” He sat, but not before he gave her a glare that promised payback. She raised her hand back up when the male cop’s aim shifted from the dog to her.

“We got reports of animals fighting in the cemetery.” The female cop’s voice carried a friendlier edge.

Billie forced an exaggerated sigh. “That’s because my dumbass dog slipped his collar and chased a tomcat into the graveyard. I’m really sorry about all this, officers.” Her shivers became downright quaking, and her bruised hip threatened to give out from under her.

“You on something?” the male cop asked.

“No, sir.” She shook her head. “I’m cold, and I slipped on the ice and fell on the road in the cemetery.”

The male cop holstered his gun. “Let’s see some I. D.” Apparently, he wasn’t willing to forgive and forget the dog’s challenge to his authority.

Her heart lurched. The hunting knife was still sheathed at her back. If the cops decided to frisk her—

She forced logic through panicked brain cells. Right now, the officers had no probable cause for a search. “It’s in my back pocket.” When neither officer commented, she slowly lowered her right hand again to the back of her jeans and plucked out the plastic card.

He walked over, took the proffered driver license, and trudged back to the cruiser. “I’m calling this in.” Billie closed her eyes and tried to control her shakes. This whole thing was getting ridiculous. She’s just fought monsters to protect some dead children, sucked venom out of a ghost, and now she would freeze to death because some cop had a burr up his butt over a dog that wasn’t even hers.

Her eyes popped open at the female cop’s next words. “Geez, Burns, it’s freezing out here.”

“And?” He paused climbing back in the driver seat of the patrol SUV and glared at his partner.

“Let her get in the car and warm up.”

He shot Billie a ticked-off look. “Fine, but you’re cleaning up any mess that dog makes.”

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Twenty minutes later, Billie stood huddled on the front porch of the ancient Victorian while the female officer rapped on the door. Her partner had insisted on checking out the graveyard. Thankfully, the snow had fallen fast enough to obliterate any evidence of the battle with the three monsters. The storm wasn’t letting up either. The wind had picked up again. Heavy flakes swirled underneath the security light and skittered past the swing to collect in the corners of the porch.

Warmth spilled from the house when Nettie jerked open the heavy oak door. She blinked, taking in the two officers, Billie, and finally the almost-but-not-quite-normal dog. Heat flooded Billie’s cheeks, the only part of her body remotely warm, despite the fact the female cop had cranked up the cruiser’s thermostat on the ride home. Somehow this was worse than the deputy who’d dragged her home to her foster parents after her runaway attempt, though she wasn’t entirely sure how.

“What’s going on, Billie?” Nettie turned to the female cop. “Officer Houlihan?”

“How’s it going, Professor?” She nodded in Billie’s direction. “This one of your girls?”

“Yes.” Nettie’s deep brown eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

Thank goodness, she’d worked out her story with the police. Billie swallowed hard, hoping the professor would go along with it in front of them. Unfortunately, there was only one male name that popped in her mind. “When I took Porter for his walk, he slipped his collar and took off after a tomcat inside the old Hess cemetery.” She affected a grimace that wasn’t hard to fake. “I fell twice on the ice trying to catch him, and I lost one of my gloves. The officers saw us squeezing through the back gate after I corralled him. I know they were doing their job, but I’m tired and I’d really like a hot bath right now.”

After a slow nod, the professor stepped out of the doorway. “Of course.” Billie slid past Nettie’s rail thin form and headed for the main stair case. The click of nails on the hardwood said the dog followed her.

“And Billie?”

She paused by the thick post that anchored the hand-carved railing. The weird look in Nettie’s eyes sent a shiver up her spine.

“There’s extra towels and some sweats on the second shelf in my bathroom closet.” The professor’s husky voice held an odd note.

“Thanks.” Billie turned and climbed the stairs, her hip protesting every step. Why would Nettie offer her clothes? At six foot even, she towered over Billie and the twins. Though Billie was hardly petite, Nettie’s sweats would bag around her ankles, assuming she could get the damn elastic and cotton over her hips. She shook her head. Another surreal conversation on a night of surreal events. But at least, her landlady seemed to pick up her hints about the dog.

Muted voices trailed after her as Nettie spoke with the police. At the top of the stairs, she turned into the professor’s room and flipped on the light. She looked down at the dog, who paused at her side. “I suppose I owe you a warm place to sleep for your help with those creatures in the cemetery.”

He answered with a wide doggy yawn. Billie snorted. She knew better, but the appearance of his understanding of perfectly good English was downright eerie. Maybe the monster she’d killed had clocked her harder than she thought.

The dog stayed by the door as she crossed to the bathroom and found the requisite items within the closet. Deciding it would be best to deal with everything in her own room, Billie flicked off the light and headed down the hall.

Once inside, she dropped the mass of towels and sweats on the bed and began peeling off her outwear. Boots were thrown in the corner and the coat and scarf lay over the back of the dressing chair to air dry. The knife went under her pillow. Almost everything else was tossed in the hamper. The dog whined when she stopped at the ribbed cotton tank and panties.

“Sorry, boy. You’re as cold and wet as I am, aren’t you?” Billie grabbed a towel and knelt next to him. The motion was an exercise in pain. She yanked the elastic waistband of her panties aside to check her hip. The first hint of purple marred a huge dark pink stain on her skin. From the aches in the rest of her body, she’d have matching bruises in other places in the morning. Her lips twisted in a grimace. What a wonderful way to mark her thirtieth birthday.

She slid the elastic back in place and began rubbing down the dog’s fur. The texture was so silky she stopped to run her fingers through the damp strands. He leaned into her touch with a whimper of pleasure. His pelt didn’t have the coarse feel of a German shepherd. Nor did it resemble the down of a collie. In fact, the closest thing his fur reminded her of was human hair.

She jerked her fingers away and sucked in a shallow breath. Where had that thought come from? Maybe her sanity had finally left the planet. Schizophrenia. Yeah. Maybe she was just as crazy as her mom had been. Or Nettie. Maybe she’d imagined everything in the cemetery.

The dog whined again and pressed a cold, wet nose against her palm, wanting attention. No, the dog was real. The police had seen him. Nettie, too. And the bruises from the fight were definitely real.

Which meant the monsters hunting the ghost children were real.

“Damn.”

“What’s wrong?”

She jumped at the sound of Nettie’s words. No mean feat when Billie was already on her knees and her entire body felt like one gigantic sore.

“Twitchy tonight, aren’t we?” A slim black eyebrow rose toward Nettie’s tight, graying curls. “What really happened, Billie?”

Her mouth clamped shut of its own accord. She’d always been honest with the professor, but this story was too bizarre to relate even by her standards of weirdness.

Nettie’s eyes narrowed once again. “I covered for you with the police officers. I think I deserve an explanation of what you two were really doing in the cemetery.”

Billie swallowed. Hard. Guilt hung like a cloud. But she hadn’t done anything, dammit! The last thing she wanted was to lie to Nettie, but she didn’t need any of the professor’s nutty lectures either.

“Billie—” Nettie had softened her tone. “Does this have anything to do with the dead children?”

Sucking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly before she whispered, “Yes.”

Nettie’s mouth opened, but Billie held up a hand. “Before you say anything, I need you to promise to just listen. And please don’t start any of your destiny bullshit.”

The professor’s jaw snapped shut and she nodded.

Billie waited until Nettie took a seat on her bed before she sat cross-legged on her bedroom rug and spilled the details. Drying the dog let her eyes focus on something else besides the professor’s face. She kept her story to the events in the cemetery. Despite only a fifteen-year age difference between her and Nettie, she wasn’t about to relate the emotions Kyra’s mysterious bouncer friend aroused in her.

Nettie was silent for a long time after she finished.

Billie continued rubbing down the dog. “Well?”

“It’s started already,” Nettie whispered. She stared at the dog, who made a soft woof. The professor cleared her throat before she added in a louder voice. “Maybe he should sleep downstairs.”

With a quick shake of his head and one of his odd high-pitched barks, the dog leapt into Billie’s bed and promptly sprawled across the foot.

Billie laughed at his territorial claim. “Guess he’s staying here. And, um, I appreciate the thought, but the sweats, um…” She climbed to her feet and yanked the clothing out from under the damp dog.

A frown twisted both Nettie’s brow and lips. She looked from the lounging black canine to the proffered gray fleece. She shook her head and took them. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Another strange look was aimed at the animal.

If her hip wasn’t so sore, Billie could have kicked herself. The professor must never have had indoor pets before. “I promise I’ll take care of him. Messes, food, everything. I’ll put signs up around the area in the morning. He’s pretty well trained so he must belong to someone.”

Of course, the damn mutt chose that moment to turn his head and growl at her.

“Hush.” She wagged a finger at the dog, but a quick glance showed no change in Nettie’s expression.

“Well, I’ll say good night then.” Nettie reached for the doorknob, but looked back at Billie. “Did the twins say when they’d be home?”

“No.” Billie’s stomach lurched. “You think those things could—” She couldn’t finish the horrendous thought.

Nettie shook her head. “I’m sure as long as they don’t cut through the graveyard and stay together, they’ll be fine.” She held up her handful of fleece, but her gaze was solely on the dog. “I’ll just put these on my bed. Good night.” The door closed behind her and her sweats.

Could this night get any weirder?

The ancient radiator rattled as the equally ancient steam furnace kicked to life. Billie pulled flannel pajamas and socks over her goosebumps. After swallowing a couple of ibuprofen pills and hitting the light switch, she climbed under the comforter and curled on her side. The knife hilt under the pillow added a measure of reassurance as wind and snowflakes whipped against the windows.

Her stray crawled across the covers until his back was firmly lodged against hers. They both sighed at the same instant. A certainty that the strange canine belonged at her back, that he’d protect her no matter what, sent a rush of security through her overwrought nerves.

And the warmth of a friendly body kept the nightmares at bay.

##

Billie’s eyes blinked open to wet, gray light. A roll and a stretch brought the awareness of her sore muscles. The motion also brought the realization something was missing. She jerked upright. The dog was nowhere in her room, and the bedroom door stood ajar.

Crap. She scrambled out of bed and grabbed her robe before sliding her stocking feet into her wool-lined slippers. If he made a mess on Nettie’s polished floors, the professor would have a royal conniption fit.

Both twins’ doors remained firmly shut. A quick peek in the shared bathroom showed nothing. Moving down the hall, she saw Nettie’s door open. Great, just great. But neither the professor or the dog were in the bedroom or the master bath.

Leather slapped on hardwood as she jogged down the stairs. The living room, formal parlor, and dining room were empty, which left the brightly lit kitchen. Double crap.

Nettie sat at the kitchen table, the Saturday morning Dispatch spread in front of her, a mug at her elbow, coffee from the tantalizing odor, as she scanned Section A. She glanced up at Billie’s presence in the doorway and nodded toward the steaming pot on the counter.

Billie took a deep breath and released it. “Have you seen Porter this morning?” She didn’t know what else to call the mutt. It fit though. The dog was even more of a mystery than the Kyra’s friend.

A thin black eyebrow rose as Nettie took a sip from her mug. “He had some business to attend to this morning.”

Heart racing, Billie crossed to the back door and yanked it open. Shivering under the assault of wind and cold while standing on the back porch, she searched the yard. White blanketed the dead grass and Nettie’s prized rose bushes. No footprints, canine or otherwise, marred the pristine crystals.

She slammed the door shut. “He’s not in the back yard.”

A bemused look covered Nettie’s face. “Of course not. He went out the front.”

Triple crap. “You let an untagged, collarless dog out the front door?”

The professor shrugged. “He asked.”

Planting fists on hips, Billie glared at Nettie. Had she forgotten her medication? Again? “So now you can talk to animals?”

“You talk to dead people.”

Since nothing she could say could top Nettie’s statement, she whirled and headed back upstairs. She mumbled curses under her breath as she pulled on jeans, a turtleneck sweater, and boots. What the hell had the professor been thinking? She grabbed her coat, scarf, and keys before she raced down the steps.

“Where are you going?” Nettie called from the kitchen.

“To find my dog!” The front door made a satisfying exclamation when she slammed it behind her.

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 4

Hey, Peeps!

Things at Casa Harden have slowed down quite a bit. While I was writing in the wee hours of Friday morning, I got that lovely little tickle at the back of my throat indicating I caught DH's nasty cold, despite our best efforts to prevent cross-contamination. I actually managed to pull a chest muscle during a coughing fit yesterday. LOL

So here's another sample chapter of the next 888-555-Hero novel. Or you could curl up on the couch with some hot tea and watch the Star Trek:TOS episode "Arena."

"No, Gorn, no. That's my spot!"

----------------------------

Harri sipped her cinnamon coffee and stared at the e-mail she just received from Dale Bernhardt’s assistant Janna. She’d heard of Hollywood’s latest “it” producer, but the email made no sense. Janna referred to Ultramegaperson’s supersuit designer, but she didn’t mention the person by name. Harri couldn’t imagine Jeremy breaking his silence over that particular side hustle.

Was this Janna really Bernhardt’s assistant? If she was, how did Bernhardt know Harri had been representing Jeremy’s business interests? Surely, Ultramegaperson hadn’t outed Jeremy.

Had they?

Harri reached for the intercom to get her IT guru Arthur Drallhickey to trace the email when the device buzzed. She punched the button. “Yes?”

“You busy?” Patty Ames asked. The firm’s receptionist and all-around Girl Friday was pretty good about screening calls when Harri was neck deep in work.

As she usually was these days with Aisha living in Paris for the rest of the year.

“It’s Jeremy about some contract that was supposed to be forwarded to you,” Patty added.

“Put him through.” Harri picked up the handset before the first ring completed. “Hey, sister dearest. Give some warning before you have someone send me attachments to emails. That’s a good way to infect the firm’s computers.”

“Dale already sent you the paperwork?” Jeremy sounded surprised. “I didn’t expect him to move that fast. Ultramegaperson called me a half hour ago while I was making breakfast.”

Harri leaned back in her office chair. “Ultra called you? Jaye, why don’t you start from the beginning?”

He filled her in on his conversation with Ultramegaperson this morning, including his agreement to let Bernhardt send the initial paperwork to Harri.

“A reality show?” She reached for her coffee. “Are you sure this is worth outing yourself over?”

“No, but I trust you to make sure this deal is worth outing myself over.”

“Has Bernhardt sent you copies of this deal?” she asked.

“I trust Mel not to name me,” Jeremy said. “All Bernhardt knows is Ultramegaperson uses the same law firm as the person who designs their supersuits.”

“Okay, let’s open up this puppy and see what Mr. Hollywood is offering my favorite sister.”

Jeremy snorted. “I’m only your favorite right now because Aisha’s in Paris.”

“Is it okay if I run this past her tomorrow morning?” Harri asked.

“What about Susan? You know, your other partner?” Jeremy sniped. “Or are you still holding a grudge?”

Harri clenched her teeth. Of course he’d bring up the fight she had with Susan a couple of weeks ago. She’d apologized to her partner, but things were still a little tense in the firm.

Especially after she found out the rest of the staff, including her own damn husband, sided with the newest partner.

“I was planning to have her look over the offer this afternoon,” Harri shot back. “If that’s okay, Your Majesty.”

“The more the merrier,” he said.

Harri opened the attachment. The cover letter laid out the basic offer, which made her whistle.

“Don’t leave me hanging, Harri!”

“Bernhardt wants you as the main judge of the show.” She named the number of zeroes after the first number.”

Jeremy whooped. “Are you shitting me?”

“Nope. He’s also already lined up the tax credits to film the series here in Canyon Pointe.”

“What do you mean film in Canyon Pointe?” Suspicion dripped from Jeremy’s voice.

She couldn’t blame him. Between normal everyday bigots and the illegal black-op organization known as Corvus, there were many reasons for his insane desire for personal privacy.

“According to this, he wants to complete the line up judges and contestants before he approaches famous Canyon Pointe drag queen Lady Jaye about using her nightclub for filming.” Harri laughed. “This is too funny to be true. You might want to do this whole thing as Lady Jaye.”

“It’s not funny,” Jeremy snapped.

“Actually, it might work better,” she said. “Few people outside of your lost boys and the family know Lady Jaye’s real identity. And you know the staff at the club will make sure no one finds out.”

“And you know Coco will go absolutely Miss Perfection if I agree to the show filming at the club?” Jeremy protested. “Not to mention security issues if Bernhardt is crazy enough to really have a supervillain as a contestant. Or have you not read that far yet?”

Harri ignored Jeremy while she scanned the second page of the proposal, and when she reached the list of pending judges, her blood ran cold. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong, hun?”

“One of the pending judges is Nix.”

A HInt of Thief - Chapter 4

For those still waiting on Death in Double Mocha and Invasion!, I hit the ground running on January 1st, but I am very, VERY behind. January and February will be spent catching up on the fustercluck that was 2022. In the meantime, here's another tidbit from the next Justice Anthea adventure.

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Reverend Father Biming parted from us to clamber aboard the Unbridled. To my surprise, Quan and Shi Hua followed Luc, my wardens, and me onboard the Mars Tranquilus. Completely out of character and violating a number of etiquette rules, the captain, officers, and crew of the Issuran ship embraced me before I could take more than two steps onto the main deck. Several of them requested my tale of how I survived the demon realm before Captain Titus proclaimed it was late, and I needed rest. I promised to regale the crew with my story once we settled matters in Naha and continued on to Jing.

Jonata guided me to our cabin. The interior was crammed with the rest of the ship’s passengers, including little Yin Shang. The child threw his pudgy arms about my waist and clung to me like a leech. Most of what he said was in Jing and mangled by his sobs. His fear and relief mirrored my own emotions, and I found myself weeping while I hugged the members of our party who could not go to the Temple of Balance.

Mateqai was alive, but nasty scars marred his handsome face and his right forearm. Balance only knew how bad his injuries were under his clothing.

“I feared we lost you when you were separated from Shi Hua during the battle,” I said.

“I shared the same fear.” His smile was crooked with the scarring, but the expression held the same warmth. “I was knocked unconscious by the flashbang that killed the demon attacking me. I awoke beneath a pile of bodies, both human and demon. Thankfully, the Ryukyuan Temple of Death were efficient and found me when I started shouting, but not so efficient I was laid on the funeral pyres before I regained my senses.”

Jonata led me to the bed I shared with Luc during our voyage. Luc sat beside me and laid his crutches in the bottom storage drawer under the bed. He clasped my right hand in his left so tightly I feared our flesh would meld together, but I welcomed the pain.

Yin Shang climbed upon the bed on my left. His mother Sister Yin Li of Love was about to chide him, but I caught her attention and shook my head. She pursed her lips and relented. We were all too emotional to start any arguments at the moment, even over something like a mother attempting to instill etiquette and manners in her offspring.

I told my companions who hadn’t been at the Temple of Balance an abbreviated version of my misadventures and how I returned to Naha. I said I would tell the remainder in the morning if they wished to join the officers and crew for our morning meal.

“Is there anything you left out during your recitation to the Reverend Mother?” Quan asked. In other words, had I withheld information for a reason from the Ryukyuan Temples?

“Nothing intentional,” I assured him. “However, I am thoroughly exhausted. That’s why I wanted to review the dispatch before she sends it to the other Temples of Balance on the morrow.”

I narrowed my eyes. “My question is why aren’t you, Lady Shi Hua, and the rest of your party taking up quarters on the Unbridled. That was the plan so you would arrive in Jing in a style befitting an emperor.”

It was nothing personal against the Mars Tranquilus. However, its design was over a generation old. The brand new carrack design of the Unbridled was half again the size of the caravels comprising most of Issura’s trading fleets. I understood Biming’s desire to move Quan and Shi Hua to the grander ship. Jing was no different than Issura. Appearances were everything among the noble class.

“Because the safest place to keep my prince alive is by your side,” Shi Hua said with a wicked grin.

“You didn’t know if I would come back,” I said sternly.

Everyone remained silent for a long time. I picked up anger and embarrassment from all of them.

Surprisingly, it was Warden Yar who broke the silence. “Captain Titus refused to leave without you, m’lady. Reverend Father Biming tried to convince the crown prince and his party to board the Unbridled and head for Jing. As Lady Shi Hua pointed out at the time, such an argument should not have taken place in front of the citizens of Ryukyu.”

For the gentle giant to explain, there had been more than a simple difference of opinion between the Reverend Father of Thief and the soon-to-be emperor of Jing. The pair may have been lovers before Balance had separated them into their more profound roles in life, but I was fairly certain Biming’s attitude had more to do with his fear that Quan’s enemies would have more time to plan Quan’s demise than any jealousy over Quan’s marriage to Shi Hua. The fact the two self-assured and circumspect men lost their tempers in public was even more astounding.

I eyed Quan. “Should I assume the Reverend Father wished to sail with the first high tide on the morrow?”

“Actually, he wanted to leave on this evening’s high tide. There is no reason we cannot stay an extra day for you to consult with the Ryukyuan Reverend Mother of Balance,” he said dryly. “If demons are invading other worlds, not just our own, shared knowledge becomes an imperative. And the crew of the Mars Tranquilus can use the extra rest after our battle-laden voyage across the Peaceful Sea.”

“Thank you for allowing your common sense and compassion to rule your decisions, Your Highness.” I inclined my head.

“Let us hope my fellow citizens feel the same way you do, m’lady,” he replied.

Shi Hua patted his arm. “Po, we all need some rest. Dawn will be here all too soon.”

As if to confirm her evaluation, the Temple bells rang Third Night. I yawned.

“We’ll discuss things in the morning,” Luc promised Quan.

Once the Jing contingent of our expedition returned to their cabin. It was all I could do to remove my gear and clothing. Thankfully, no one treated me as an invalid. Instead Luc and the wardens made their own preparations for sleep. I yanked on my sleep shift and crawled onto the bed.

“Shi Hua’s trousseau wouldn’t be ready until midday tomorrow.” I yawned. “Was Reverend Father Biming planning to leave without it?”

“I don’t think her dresses were on top of his priority list at the time, m’love.” Luc extinguished his spells on the alabaster globes that provided conventional light for the rest of my cabin mates.

I curled in the crook of his shoulder. You haven’t said much since I returned.

I haven’t had much of an opportunity. He kissed my temple. I feared I’d never see you again when you ran straight into that rip in reality. I feared you had suffered a terrible fate in the demon realm. I didn’t share Shi Hua’s faith you would find a way home. I hope you can forgive me.

I feared the same things you did, I said. You’ve had so many terrible losses over the last two years. I can understand your despair, and I am so sorry I caused you to feel that way.

He hugged me tightly. I’m simply glad you are back with us. I love you.

I love you, too.

Beneath my ear, his heartbeat slowed and his breathing deepened. However, sleep eluded me despite the fatigue dragging my limbs and mind.

We couldn’t afford Quan and Biming fighting, whether it be in public or in private. We already knew the Jing nobility had never been happy with the idea of an emperor with Thief talent, much less one who had a common-born parent. Quan needed the support of the Temples and Guilds, but I wouldn’t put it past the renegade Assassins Guild to recruit some nobles to their cause.

If only the idiots knew they would be killed and eaten by the Assassins Guild’s true allies once they murdered Quan.

Invasion! - Chapter 4

Since the Invasion! release got screwed up, I took a week off to calm down. Now, I'm reviewing it for typos one last time before I release it. If you want a free copy, it's not too late to sign up for my newsletter.

Also, I finally posted November's free short story, "A Place at the Table". It takes place in the Solar System Services, Inc. universe, a few centuries after "Alone Is Not Lonely".

In the meantime, here's Chapter 4 from Invasion!

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Otherwhere, Time - Irrelevant

Samantha Marie “Sam” Ridgeway St. James, the vampires’ goddess of Death, locked the gate to her afterlife and trudged through the black sand of Otherwhere, a region between places no one but the gods traversed. Even then, none of the deities she personally knew took Otherwhere, or the things that hunted here, lightly.

She wasn’t sure she liked being so busy lately. Even worse, she wasn’t sure she liked being worshipped. It gave her a weird feeling. She’d never been the center of attention when she’d been alive. Now, it was just plain uncomfortable. But when the dying called for her, she had to respond.

And very few of the dead were people she personally knew. Ares and Morrigan had ripped her new assholes for turning Duncan, Alex, and Connie into gods like her when the stupid, fucking dino demons had killed the three of them. But according to Sam’s deity pals, the other pantheons would regard Sam making gods out of more of her dead loved ones as an act of war.

Ares and Morrigan would know as the patrons of War in each of their pantheons.

The warning came because Alex’s death was technically the Incan god of Death Supay’s fault. Alex made the mistake of promising Sam’s Incan counterpart he’d hunt down the assholes who stole Supay’s tumi, the symbol of his power. Which Alex accomplished, a few seconds before Sam engaged the dinosaur god trying to break into her home dimension, causing Mount Rainier to erupt.

Come to think of it, Puget Sound didn’t look much better than Otherwhere these days.

The sepia sky in the between space looked bleaker than normal, and a sharp, arid breeze snapped her long black coat against her legs. In the distance, something howled. Something she didn’t recognize as a denizen of Otherwhere. A chorus of familiar shrieks and screams answered the initial howl.

The birdcats hunted something, which wasn’t a good sign.

She stopped and sniffed the air. The odor of something living penetrated the acrid scent of Otherwhere. Ginger mixed with something else. The second scent was vaguely familiar. She sniffed again. Not quite the smell of a dinosaur demon, but still slightly reptilian. But the ginger scent she definitely knew.

Now, why the hell would any witch be stupid enough to enter Otherwhere? Not even a god in their right mind would come here unless they were desperate. Only death resided here. A living soul would attract the undead predators who prowled this place, which explains the familiar shrieks and screams. And there were worse things than the birdcats in Otherwhere.

Sam took another deep breath. Along with the ginger came the smells of rotting jungle vegetation and—

She sniffed again. Chinese food? But underneath them all was the odor of fresh apples.

Humans. More than one.

Shit.

Sam ran in the direction of the living. Behind her came the skittering of chitonous feet on the diamond-sharp sand. She glanced behind her. Eyes glowed blue and orange amongst the ever changing shadows. Another pride of birdcats followed her.

Fuckity-fuck. If she didn’t reach the humans first—

Well, watching someone’s soul being eaten wasn’t a pretty sight.

Death in Double Mocha - Chapter 4

After three weeks of working on everything but Death in Double Mocha (for example, I have a lovely pile of assembled boxes sitting on the family room hearth waiting ot be filled with Kickstarter rewards), I was able to start working on the novel again. Honestly, it's a bit of a relief. I feared the results if I couldn't finish the book. But I resorted to my typical techniques when I get stuck on a story. All my toilets are VERY clean, and I've written 15K words on Invasion!

To celebrate the little, but very important, victories, here's the next unedited sample chapter of Death in Double Mocha.
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“Mom?” Dani couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t deal with both her husband and her mother coming back from the dead on the same night. At least, Penny’s mother-in-law Laura had the grace to climb out of her grave and arrive at the Hudsons’ home during daylight hours.

“Hijo de puta!” Yep, that was definitely Mom screaming the background.

“Dad! Tell Mom I want to talk to her!”

Mark dropped the saucepan he’d retrieved from the dishwasher and stared at her.

“Dani, you need to come get me.” Mom sobbed through the receiver. “Please, I beg of you. I cannot believe your father brought a whore into our wedding bed.”

“Mami, listen to me,” Dani said. “I need you to walk away from Dad. Go to the living room and sit down.”

“Dani, please come get me.” More sobbing. “He tried to kill me.”

“Was he the one throwing things at you?”

“He left me in a grave!” Mom wailed.

Could this night possible get any worse?

“Mom, I can’t leave Mark alone at home.” Dani sucked in a deep breath. “I’m going to call my friends Penny and Francine. Do you remember them?”

“Y-yes,” Mom said between hiccupping sobs.

“Hold onto the phone. I will call you right back. I promise.”

“O-okay.”

Dani clicked off the call and took another deep breath.

Mark picked up the saucepan. “Is that really Abuelita?”

“I’m afraid so.” Dani released the air from her aching chest. “However, I can only deal with one dead family member at a time, kiddo.”

She punched the speed dial icon for Francine’s number. After four rings, the signal rolled over to voicemail. Nope, she couldn’t let this one go. Mark had done the right thing by sending Penny over to Dad’s, but both Penny and Wila were already overloaded with their own dead family members at their houses. She tapped Francine’s phone number again.

This time, Francine picked up on the second ring. “I was asleep. The Devil himself better be on your doorstep.”

“It’s almost as bad,” Dani said. “Heath showed up at my house tonight.”

Francine muttered an obscenity. That girl had developed a potty mouth over the last two months, but becoming the Four Horsemen was bound to drive the sanest person crazy.

“That’s not the big problem,” Dani added. “Mom showed up at Dad’s tonight, and she’s trying to kill him.”

“As bad as Penny’s in-laws and the girlfriend?”

“Worse. Mom knocked out Pierre. Mark texted Penny, but—”

“Gotcha,” Francine said through a yawn. “You need a place to stash Olivia since Heath’s already at your house. Let me get dressed and grab a spare demon hunter from Saint Michael’s if Pierre’s down for the count.”

“Thank you, Francine.”

She laughed. “You owe me a couple of boxes of Long John’s for this, girl.”

Dani ended the call and collapsed on the closest kitchen chair. She couldn’t deal with any more insanity.

“Is everything okay?”

Dani looked up. Heath stood in the doorway to the living room. His short blond hair was damp from the shower and curled around his ears. He wore his old sweatpants and his favorite UC-Oakfield jersey.

Dani’s heart threatened to quit beating. She wanted to seize this moment and not let go. Heath standing there was like the last six years had never happened.

“I dropped the pot, Dad.” Mark carefully scooped Dani’s homemade cocoa mix with the measuring cup and dumped it into the saucepan. “Mom, maybe you should call Uncle Marty. Francine can turn a little scary if Abuelita loses it with Papa again.”

Heath frowned. “What’s going on with your parents?”

“Mom went to their house tonight.” Dani blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling. “Just like you came here.”

“Olivia…died, too?” Disbelief darkened his blue eyes.

Dani swallowed hard and nodded. “Last January. She had a heart attack.”

“Do we need to go over to their place?” Heath asked.

“Penny and Francine can handle Mom, but Mark’s right about Marty helping them.” Dani picked up her phone and tapped the icon for her brother’s home number.

“Hey, little sis! What’s up?” came Marty’s cheerful voice over the receiver.

“Can you go over to Dad’s?”

“Now? It’s almost eleven.”

“Mom showed up at the house tonight.”

There was a long pause before Marty said, “She came back?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, Carmen is there, and Mom went ballistic. She knocked out Pierre with a frying pan.”

A suspicious snort came through the receiver that sounded more like her brother stifling a chuckle. “No offense, but wouldn’t this be a Soccer Mom matter?”

“Penny and Francine are on their way, but Mom could use a friendly face.”

“Dani, what’s going on? This isn’t like you to avoid—”

“Heath’s here,” she blurted.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She looked at her husband. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but she couldn’t. Not in front of Mark. Her son need her to keep her own shit together.

“Is Wila on her way to your house?”

“No. I’ve got this. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about my baby sister.”

“I need you to worry about our parents, Marty. Call me when things are settled over there.”

“No, I’ll call you in the morning. And you’re taking tomorrow off.”

“But—”

“No arguments,” Marty bit out. “I’m the boss.” His voice gentled. “Let me do this for you, Dani. You’ve got enough on your shoulders.”

She sniffed. “All right. Thanks.” After she ended the call, she reached for another tissue.

“I’ll do the cinnamon toast.” Heath sauntered across the kitchen to the counter where Mark had already laid out plates, and he picked up a knife.

For a spit second, Dani had the urge to grab Mark, carry him out to the garage, and toss him into Verde. She sucked in a deep breath. It’s just a table knife.

Maybe she should ask Wila about accompanying her to the Buddhist meditation classes she took.

Heath eyed her as he spread butter over a slice of bread. “So, who are Carmen and Pierre?”

“Pierre’s a demon hunter,” Mark said enthusiastically. “He’s awesome!”

“Demon hunter?” Heath’s right eyebrow rose as he looked at Mark, then Dani, and back to Mark.

“He’s a risen dead like you.” Mark set the burner on low and stirred the milk and cocoa mix. “He was part of the Vatican taskforce in the eighteen-hundreds. He died during the Franco-Prussian War. Now, he’s Papa’s bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?”

“All of the immediate family members of the Soccer Moms have one.” Mark shrugged. “Father Rodriguez is mine. He picks me up after school and stays here until Mom gets home from work. Besides, having a bodyguard is way cooler than having a babysitter.”

“I take it the father isn’t as cool as Pierre?” Heath asked.

“He’s…depressed is the best thing to call it.” Mark stared at the contents of the saucepan. “Father Rodriguez would never admit it to me, but Father McAvoy said he was tortured and executed during the Spanish Inquisition.”

Dani frowned. This was the first time she’d heard Mark say anything remotely derogatory about Father Rodriguez. And why hadn’t Father McAvoy mentioned Father Rodriguez’s past to her before assigning him to Mark? She need to look into the matter tomorrow since she had the day off.

Heath glanced at Dani before he said, “If you’re uncomfortable with Father Rodriguez, I’m sure your mom would make arrangements for a different bodyguard.”

“Father Rodriguez isn’t bad.” Mark waved the spoon for emphasis, and Dani winced at the chocolate milk splattering all over her clean backsplash and countertop. “If I had a choice, I’d want Justine’s grandparents, but she needs them way worse than I need a different bodyguard.”

“Who’s Justine?” Heath asked.

“She plays on the Tiger Sharks with me.” Mark continued stirring the hot chocolate. “Her mom is Pestilence. Her dad’s parents were demon hunters before they had kids.”

“Wow.” Heath automatically reached in the same place in the cupboard she’d kept the sugar and cinnamon shaker since they moved into this place. There were a few times in those early years cinnamon toast was all they could afford for breakfast besides eggs.

“They sound like pretty cool grandparents,” Heath continued.

“Oh, they definitely are.” Mark nodded emphatically. “They’ve been teaching us all kinds of stuff about how to hurt and kill demons.”

“Let me guess,” Heath said. “Your water soaker is filled with holy water?”

“Yep.” Mark laid the spoon on the spoon rest, turned off the burner, and set aside the pan of hot chocolate. “And I’m learning the exorcism prayer. Grandpa Ed says I’ve got the best Latin pronunciation.”

Dani clenched her teeth to keep from saying anything. She didn’t like the fact Mark and the other kids had to learn this stuff. Edward Hudson was adamant the kids not take on a demon themselves. In fact, he told them bluntly to run and call their moms when they found a safe haven if they spotted someone they suspected was possessed.

The guys chatted while Mark carefully poured the hot chocolate into three mugs and added mini marshmallows and Heath stuck the bread slices in the toaster oven.

At a knock on the front door, Heath frowned. It was terribly late for anyone to drop by unannounced, but their house was warded against demons. Dani manifested her scythe and charged into the living room.

After a quick check through the peephole, she put away her scythe and jerked open the door. “What are you doing here?” White teeth flashed against Wila’s dark skin. “I got tagged for babysitting duties. And if Mark and the guy behind you sprays me with holy water, I will shish kebab the both with my flaming sword.”

War in White Chocolate - Chapter 4

Oops! Everytime I opened this website to format and post a chapter yesterday, I got distracted with another task. My apologies for posting late. As always, here's an unedited chapter of my current work-in-progress!

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“Let’s go to this guy’s office, and kill this demon’s ass,” Wila snarled.

“No.” Penny’s hand sliced through the air. “In the immortal words of Admiral Ackbar, it’s a trap.”

“So, what exactly is this demon up to?”

“Like you just said, they’re trying a new tactic.” Penny frowned as she looked at the picture on Wila’s phone screen again.

“If I wasn’t scheduled to work this afternoon, I’d say let’s have our girl’s night tonight,” Wila grumbled.

“Heck, I should keep a bottle of premade margaritas here.” Penny smiled. “I have the blenders and ice here. Unfortunately, the soccer coaches rather insist on sticking to the practice and game schedule.”

Wila rubbed the achy spot between her eyebrows. “You know the demon may have given you the wrong information about Laura’s situation.”

“I got a second opinion from your divorce attorney,” Penny said. “She said the same thing, and I met with her in person. I may have talked to the real Paxton on the phone last Thursday.”

Wila dropped her hand. “How is Lilah?”

“She’s fine. I forgot how feisty she is for someone older than my mother-in-law.” Penny chuckled.

“Speaking of old ladies, I left Gammy out in the dining room.”

Penny picked up her clipboard and pen. “I’m due for a break anyway. Is it okay if I join you?”

“Gammy would love it.”

Wila strode out to the hallway and headed for the dining room. As she passed the counter, Josie called out her name.

“Yes?” She paused.

“Give me a sec to steam the milk for your coffee.” Josie shifted to the closest espresso machine. “I wasn’t sure how long you would be back with the boss, and I know you like your mocha extra hot.”

Wila grinned as she approached the counter to collect her drink. “Bubblegum, I don’t know what Penny would do without you.”

“Penny would be mixing alcohol with her coffee and losing all her business,” Penny said as she stepped behind the counter to brew her own concoction.

“Rum goes really well with the peanut butter latte,” Josie volunteered.

Wila hid a snicker while Penny paused in squirting pumpkin spice syrup into her mug.

Josie’s cheeks matched her hair, and she mumbled, “Just sayin’.” Her focus on pouring the steamed milk into Wila’s cup was more than was normally warranted.

“Don’t give Bubblegum the evil eye, Penny,” Wila chided. “You were a college student once upon a time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Penny glared at her over the top of the espresso machine she used.

“It means you could get more creative with your alcohol than I could while stationed in Germany.” Wila shook her head. “There’s only so much beer a woman can drink before it totally ruins her palette.”

“That’s because beer sucks.” Josie handed Wila her white chocolate mocha.

In turn, Wila raised her extra-large cup in a salute to the assistant manager. “Amen, sister.”

Once Penny completed her pumpkin spice latte, they crossed to the dining area to where Gammy sat enjoying her sandwich—egg, bacon, and cheese on an English muffin. Wila slid into the booth beside Gammy while Penny sat on the opposite seat.

Gammy looked around before she whispered, “You told Penny about that demon in the department store, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, I most certainly did,” Wila assured her grandmother.

“You girls need to take care of him before he hurts somebody.” Gammy’s attention shifted to Penny.

“We need to find out what he’s up to first,” Penny said.

“But with all the formerly dead hunters staying at the Catholic church, surely you have enough people to watch your backs while you kill this one.” Gammy took another bite of her sandwich.

The Vatican had refused to send any more living demon hunters to Oakfield, despite Father Perez and Father McAvoy’s entreaties, other than Karen Longstreet. But once the resurrected hunters found out about the need of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, they poured into the city. Father McAvoy took charge of the risen hunters and assigned one to each of the Horsemen’s family members when the Horseman wasn’t home.

Some of the oldest hunters thought Wila and her friend’s calling themselves the Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse was sacrilegious, but Sister Joan and several other nuns thought the moniker was totally appropriate.

“If the demons are trying a new tactic to get their hands on the risen, the last thing we want to do is put them in harm’s way,” Wila protested.

“We need to run this past Father McAvoy.” Penny glanced at her watch. “I can’t get out of here until Valerie gets here at one.”

Out of an abundance of caution, the Soccer Moms visited the rectory at Saint Michael’s Church in person when they needed to consult with the members of the taskforce. That way, they could confirm whether the person they spoke with was free from demon influence.

“Dani’s at work, and Francine is with Karen and Sister Joan training the police on dealing with demons today,” Wila said.

Penny chuckled. “I know. I’m picking up the kids from school today and taking them to soccer practice this afternoon.”

Gammy patted Wila’s arm. “Baby girl, drop me off at the house, then go over to Saint Mike’s before you gotta be at work.”

“I promised you I’d help with the greens.” Wila stared at her grandmother. The old woman never let any of her grandchildren avoid work, much less break a promise.”

“Your role as a Soccer Mom is far more important than washing and tearing a mess of collard greens,” Gammy stated firmly before she turned to Penny. “Have you thought about staying open later in the evening?”

Leave it to Gammy to change the subject to prevent any more arguing.

“No,” Wila said. “You’re not hitting up my friend for a job.”

Gammy shrugged. “Laura and I need something to do besides putter around our family’s houses.”

“I can take care of you,” Wila protested.

“I know you can, baby girl.” Gammy reached over and patted her hand. “But I’ve been taking care of myself all my life. I don’t see why I can’t contribute to your household while I’m living there.”

“Besides, Wila, weren’t you the one suggesting Java’s Palace stay open twenty-four hours when you’re on the late shift?” Penny’s brown eyes twinkled as she took a sip of her coffee.

“We weren’t in the middle of the Apocalypse when I said that,” Wila shot back.

“It’s not a bad idea though,” Penny said. “I’ve been thinking about leasing a second space sooner rather than later. The owner of the Waterford Crossing contacted my real estate broker last week about a storefront I checked out last month. He’s willing to make a ton of concessions in order to rent out the space.”

“Is this the corner spot where the Mongolian restaurant used to be?” Wila frowned.

“Yep.”

“You said it needed a ton of work.”

Penny nodded. “Still does. The owner’s willing to do the clean-up and build out of the place, and he’s willing to knock off twenty-fiver percent of the monthly rate for the first year.”

Suspicion raced through Wila. “Why?”

Penny pursed her lips. “Oh, he wants to make sure he goes to Heaven.”

“You can’t promise him that!”

“Keep your voice down, baby girl,” Gammy murmured.

Yep, everyone was staring at the loud Black woman. The world may be ending, but some things simply didn’t change.

“I didn’t promise him any such thing,” Penny said. “Nor did he actually say that’s what he wanted. But with Francine being outed on the news as Famine and everyone getting sick here at the cafe, more people are putting two and two together than just Mayor Oldham and Chief Wright. But I’d be a fool not to take a prime offer.” She grinned. “Especially when we stop the Apocalypse.”

If they stopped the Apocalypse, but Wila wasn’t going to ruin Penny’s good mood by saying it out loud. Besides, maybe getting Gammy out of the house a couple of days a week would brighten her outlook.

It would definitely help with Wila’s meditation exercises if her grandmother wasn’t banging pots and pans most of the day.

“All right.” Wila held up her hands. “We need to find you a car then, Gammy.”

“You’re not buying me a car,” her grandmother snapped.

“Damn straight, I’m not.” Wila grinned. “It’s a loan with payments and interest that you will pay back to me.” It was the same lecture Gammy had given her in high school.

“Well, then.” Gammy sniffed. “I guess I can agree to that.”

“Great.” Penny nodded. “You want to start training Wednesday morning?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gammy practically jiggled on the bench.

Wila glared at Penny. “You’re only saying because you know I have the day off Wednesday, and the ex-louse is picking Derek up from school.”

“Ex-louse?” Gammy narrowed her eyes.

“And you’ll have the time to talk to Neal about getting something for your grandmother to drive.” Penny sipped her coffee before she added, “If Gammy Wilkinson is willing to drive Laura to and from Java’s Palace, I’ll chip in half the car payment.”

Wila groaned. “Why do I feel like I’ve been set up?”

“We’re just being practical.” Gammy patted her hand.

Except their practicality made Wila feel incompetent for not being able to take of her own family.

Famine in French Vanilla - Chapter 4

Here's the last little tidbit of Famine in French Vanilla before it goes live on Amazon.

Next week, some sale news will be posted. However, I will be in hiding. I'm nearly 100K behind in writing for the year, and a retreat to a hotel for a couple of days is necessary to focus on writing. The last time I did that was in February of 2020. Both DH and Princess Bella have done their best to leave me alone, but I need a change of scenery.

I DESPERATELY need a change of scenery before I go mad.

Or maybe like Francine, I need my own box of chocolate Long Johns.

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Francine entered Penny’s kitchen to find Justine eating a chocolate-frosted doughnut.

“Thanks for bringing these,” the girl said around a mouthful of pastry.

“You’re welcome.” Francine smiled. “Do you have any milk to go with them?”

Justine swallowed before she said, “There is some, but it may be a little iffy. With all the trouble between Mom, Dad, and that Rimmon guy—” Frown lines ran between her eyes, and Francine’s heart went out to the girl.

Justine licked her lips. “Is he really dead? He won’t make Dad do bad stuff again?” Her voice ended on a warble that indicated she was trying very hard not to cry.

“Rimmon’s dead,” Francine said. “You don’t have to worry about him ever again.”

“Grandma was dead.” Justine’s lower lip trembled. “He might come back, too.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Francine pulled the girl into a tight hug. “Trust me. He is never coming back. According to my research, only the good people will be brought back. Like your grandmother.”

“Can Brittany come over? I’m a-a l-little scared.”

Francine smoothed Justine’s wayward curls back from her face. “Why don’t you video chat with her? Your mom and I need to talk. Would you like to spend the night at our house again?”

Justine shrugged. “I don’t know. I-I want to stay here with Grandma. I miss her so much, but—”

“I’m a little weirded out about this whole situation, too.” Francine smiled. “Why don’t you grab another doughnut and go talk to Brittany? Then we’ll make some decisions after your mom and I talk.”

Justine nodded before she retrieved a clean plate for the remaining half of the Long John she’d been munching on and selected another chocolate one. She disappeared into the family room.

Ah, to be twelve and eat everything again.

Except Francine could eating everything again, but it came at a price. Accepting the role of Famine and battling demons hadn’t helped to quell her insane hunger. She ate more in one day than her family ate in an entire month.

Unless she unleashed her hunger on the public. The one time she accidentally had, the police needed riot gear and tear gas to get the restaurant patrons in check.

Francine looked around the Hudson’s kitchen. Dirty plates and silverware still sat on the table, which showed how fast things had gone crazy this morning.

Her stomach rumbled. Loudly. She needed to take care of that first. When she retrieved the milk jug from the refrigerator and unscrewed the cap, the slight strawberry-like scent milk had right before it totally soured hit her nose.

Well, she’d take care of it for Penny. If she needed to stay and keep an eye on Penny’s in-laws while Penny made a grocery run, she would. And later this weekend, she’d make up for the ruined lunch and shopping trip she’d planned with Brittany. Their friends needed them right now.

Francine cleared the dirty dishes from the table and wiped it down before she sat down with the quarter-filled gallon jug of milk and started eating doughnuts. Unfortunately, every time Famine manifested, she left Francine starving.

Literally.

She was washing down her third Long John with the almost bad milk when Penny walked into the kitchen. She stopped and stared at Francine before she crossed her arms and said, “I knew one box of doughnuts wouldn’t be enough for you, but drinking straight out of the jug? That’s so not like you, Miss Prim-and-Proper.”

Francine lowered the milk and licked her lips. “It’s about to go bad. You don’t want Justine or Edward to drink this. On the other hand, I will take calories in whatever form these days.” She burped before she added, “What can I do to help? Besides the dishes once Laura’s out of the shower.”

Penny flopped onto the chair next to Francine. “I thought everything would get better after Wednesday. I had less than one day. Ugh!” She scrubbed at her face. “Let me guess. Wila called because she ran into a dead person.”

Francine nodded. “She and Brian answered a call this morning to the same house where the husband was DOA a year ago. Reading between the lines of what she could tell me, the husband crawled out of his grave and went home, too. The wife fainted and hit her head on the way down. The husband called 9-1-1.”

“What about Brian?”

Francine snorted. “He’s convinced himself the man who called in is the twin brother of the guy who died.”

Penny swore under her breath. “We need to warn Dani.”

Horror rippled through Francine. “Oh, god, I wasn’t thinking. She and Mark are living in the same house they had when Heath died, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Penny fished her phone out of her front jeans pocket. She tapped the screen before she set the phone between her and Francine on the table. The phone rang once. Twice.

“Hernandez Insurance Agency. Dani speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hey, girl. It’s Penny and Francine. Got a minute for some Soccer Mom issues?”

“Not really,” Dani grumbled. “But just a sec.” Something squeaked before there was carpet shuffling. With the second squeak, Dani said, “Sorry, I needed to make sure I had a little privacy. What happened? Is Pence there to arrest you?”

The police officer was absolutely sure there was something squirrely about Penny, especially after two of the people the demons had possessed were found dead.

Francine bit the side of her cheek to keep from laughing at Penny’s sour expression.

“Believe me, I wish it were that easy.” Penny sighed wearily. “The Fifth Seal has broken.”

“But the Fifth Seal is—ohmigod! We have zombies running around Oakfield?”

“Penny’s mother-in-law showed up at her front door this morning,” Francine said. “And Wila responded to an EMT call that was made by a guy she and Brian pronounced DOA last year.”

“Please tell me this is a practical joke.” A sound suspiciously like a sob came through the receiver. “Please, please, please.”

“My dead mother-in-law is cleaning off grave dirt in my shower right now,” Penny snapped. “We are not joking.”

“Where’s Mark?” Francine asked.

“Since there’s no school today, he and Derek are at my-my—ohmigod, I can’t breath.” Dani was obviously hyperventilating.

“Dani, listen to me,” Francine said gently. “Call Mark, and tell him I going to your house to pick up him and Derek. I’ll call Wila, and let her know what’s going on. Then I’ll swing by to collect Brittany and bring lunch to over to Penny’s. Can you take the rest of the day off?”

“Y-y-yeah.” A paper bag crinkled through the phone speaker. “I’ll tell Marty I have cramps. Th-that works every time with him.”

Thank goodness, Dani worked for her brother. Francine couldn’t imagine finding excuses to leave her job every time a Soccer Mom emergency came up.

“Hang in there, sweetie,” Francine said. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

“O-okay.” Dani sniffed. “I’ll see you later.”

The phone call ended, and Penny grabbed Francine’s hands. “You cannot leave me alone here. Gene will be home at any moment.”

“Listen to me, Penny,” Francine said softly. “You heard Dani. Imagine how Mark is going to react if Heath shows up at the Elante residence. Why do you think Dani was hyperventilating?”

Penny released Francine’s hand and place her own palms over her mouth. She finally lowered her hands. “Can I please trade jobs with you?”

“If Gene tries to hurt Laura or worse, you go Pestilence on his ass,” Francine said. “I’ll grab my coat. I should be back within an hour. You’re the strong one, Penny. You can handle this.”

“I really wish you three would stop saying that,” Penny grumbled.

Francine gave Penny a quick hug. “I’ll be fast I promise.”

When Francine entered the living room, Edward was still meticulously wiping sugary gunk from Gene’s book collection. He gave her the side-eye as she retrieved her coat and put it on. She grabbed her tote and turned to go when he said, “Are you sure that woman is Laura?”

She pivoted to look at him. “Why? Think she’ll interfere with your multitude of girlfriends?”

“Multitude?” He glared at her.

“Edward, I know about you and Deborah Gibson,” she hissed.

An alarmed expression crossed his face. “Penny told you?”

Francine rubbed her forehead. “Shit. Does she really know?”

“If she didn’t tell you, how do you know?” he asked.

“Deborah was boasting about it at the First Methodist pancake supper.” Francine shook her head. “She thought she’d become the new Mrs. Hudson.”

Edward pursed his mouth. “You can berate me all you want, but please don’t hurt Laura.”

“I have no intention of ruining her life—” She couldn’t help a little burble of laughter from erupting. “—or her death. Clean up that mess before I get back with lunch.”

He reddened. “I was changing diapers before you were born.”

“And I’m sure you were smearing the contents of your diapie on walls long before you smeared perfectly good Long Johns all over your son’s books.” Francine shot him a cocky smile. “See you in a bit.”

She gritted her teeth as she charged out Penny’s new front door and strode to her minivan. If Neal’s dad were half as obnoxious as Edward Hudson, she would have killed him years ago.