RUBIDIUM

RUBIDIUM

By: Terri Talley Venters

Caroline Kirby descended the magnificent staircase of her estate on the St. Johns River in Jacksonville, Florida. Her coral-pink Chanel dress would certainly turn heads at the club this afternoon. Her long slender legs walked gracefully in her Armani heels.

She knew she’d miss her beautiful home after today’s accident, but she saw no other choice. At forty, she wasn’t getting any younger. And Jasper grew suspicious of her extra yoga classes with her hot personal trainer. Caroline knew she couldn’t hide the affair forever, nor could she end her lazy afternoons with her twenty-eight year-old boy toy.

She looked around her luxurious surroundings one last time and regretted her designer wardrobe she’d left behind upstairs. But everyone would grow suspicious if she moved all of her clothes out of her and Jasper’s Florida home shortly before it went up in flames. At least she’d shipped her favorites to their palatial summer home in California in preparation of their annual trip to the west coast.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kirby,” the housekeeper said as Caroline entered the grand foyer of the mansion.

“Good morning, Renee. I’ll be at Epping for a luncheon this afternoon, but I’ll see to my husband before I go. He’ll probably sleep after he takes his medication and won’t be a bother to you.” Caroline explained her absence and initiated the first phase of her alibi to the frail, ancient housekeeper.

“Mr. Kirby is never a bother. He’s the nicest man I know, the epitome of a perfect Southern Gentleman,” Renee gushed.

“Oh, and before you get started, I need you to run the usual errands. I left a list on the counter. You have my cell phone number.” Caroline dismissed the help.

Caroline walked into the masculine study and cringed as she inhaled Jasper’s pungent Swisher Sweet cigar. Although she hated the nasty habit of his, it gave her the perfect excuse to sleep in separate bedrooms. And today of all days, the nasty cigar provided the perfect explanation to the cause of the fire.

“Good morning, Darlin’.” Jasper smiled as he looked up at his beautiful trophy wife, nearly half his age.

“Mornin’ Jasper, what did I tell you about smoking inside? You’re going to start a fire one of these days,” Caroline said loud enough for Renee to hear.

She watched Jasper’s hand shake as he held his cigar. His Parkinson’s wouldn’t prove a burden to Caroline any longer. In fact, his disease played a crucial role in her exit strategy. She knew the fire marshal would never suspect arson because a shaky-handed old man smoking a cigar in a cozy recliner tidied up the upcoming homicide case nice and neat.

“You look beautiful today, my dear. Just as beautiful as the day I married you. Do you remember our honeymoon in Italy?” Jasper gazed wide-eyed at his wife.

“Of course I remember, the happiest time of my life.” Caroline smiled.

She missed those early days when they were first married. Even with a thirty-five year age difference, Caroline loved their social life in the beginning. They traveled first-class throughout Europe. Jasper spoiled her with couture gowns and expensive jewelry. They went to all the best parties and rubbed shoulders with the best of Jacksonville’s society. And no one snickered at their age difference, at least not to her knowledge. How could anyone ever say anything negative about the richest, kindest, and most generous man in the city?

But now Jasper’s health prohibited him from going out anymore. Caroline hated the burden of taking care of him. She missed her freedom-filled days when Jasper golfed three or four times a week. She couldn’t do it anymore and she didn’t want to wait for him to die. It could take years for him to kick the bucket on his own. Caroline didn’t want to waste her dwindling youth on an old man.

“So where are you off to today?” Jasper looked up at Caroline with the enthusiastic look of a young boy with his first crush.

“I’m having lunch at the club, but I shan’t be long. Oh, I almost forgot, I have something for you, my dear.”

She retrieved Jasper’s lapel pin from her purse and secured it to his smoking jacket. She smiled at the ingeniousness of her plan. Intentionally breaking the clasp on Jasper’s heirloom lapel pin gave her the perfect excuse to have it repaired. But before returning it to Jasper, she added a few modifications of her own.

She’d swapped out the enormous emerald for a piece of green glass she’d found in some old costume jewelry at an antique store. She didn’t want Jasper’s ungrateful son to inherit the priceless stone. And secondly, more importantly, she inserted a tiny piece of rubidium into the pin’s intricate design. Rubidium reacts violently with water, turning the normally harmless liquid into a flammable, Molotov cocktail.

“Oh, my pin is fixed. Thank you, Darlin’. You’re too good to me. What would I do without you?” Jasper crooned. He kissed his wife on the lips, not knowing it would be for the last time of his doomed life.

“My pleasure, Jasper. Here, let me fill your water glass. You know how thirsty your medication makes you.”

She filled up his water glass to the tippy-top of the rim and placed in on the end table. She knew it would be impossible for a normal man not to spill the water all over his chest and lapel pin. But a seventy-five year old man suffering from Parkinson’s would most certainly spill the glass of water all over himself, reacting with the rubidium and instantly igniting an untraceable cause of fire.

Caroline smiled at her husband for the last time as she exited her beautiful home, already counting the millions she’d inherit from her soon-to-be late husband, Jasper Kirby.

Darmstadtium

DARMSTADTIUM

By: Terri Talley Venters

Schlöss Neuschwanstein

1886

Mary ascended the secret stairwell to her lover’s ornate bedroom in Neuschwanstein castle. As she eased the door open, her ice-blue eyes glistened with joy.

King Ludwig II of Bavaria turned his head at the noise. A smile filled his pudgy face as he spotted the welcome intruder. “Meine Liebe,” he said.

Mary ran to his comforting arms and let him twirl her around the room. Her long golden hair floated in the air as she said, “Mein König.”

“Why do you cry, my dear?” he asked. He lifted Mary’s chin up and peered into her tear-filled eyes.

“It’s father. He wants to move north to Darmstadt. He’s arranged for me to marry a scientist at the University,” she said, clinging to her king.

“Was?” The king asked, shocked at the notion of his love marrying another.

Mary nodded quietly, looking down in defeat.

“Nein! Nein! Nein!” he said. “You will marry no one but me. I’ll make you my Queen of Bavaria. We shall live in my beautiful new castle.”

“Ich Liebe dich,” Mary said, smiling up at her king.

“First, I must go to my doctor in Berg. We will wed here in Neuschwanstein when I return,” he said.

Weeks later

Mary danced alone in the grand ballroom of the castle. She envisioned the elaborate parties she’d throw when she became the Queen of Bavaria. She knew her eccentric future husband craved solitude, but she intended to change his ways. She twirled around in her beautiful new dress, dreaming of her new life with her king.

“Fraulein Mary, the King is dead!” a servant said, entering the ballroom.

“Was?” Mary asked. Her hand instinctively went to her throat, shocked at the horrific news.

“They stripped him of his throne and declared him insane. They found him and his doctor, drowned in the shallow water in Berg,” he said.

Mary ran out of the castle to escape the news of her King’s death. She ran through the woods and ascended the cliff above the ravine. She stood on the embankment, looking down at the beautiful castle her King built. It looked like a fairy tale, her dream come true. King Ludwig II intended to marry her and make her the Queen of Bavaria.

Now her dream turned into a nightmare, her king was dead. She couldn’t live without him. A wave of sadness filled her with agony. Her heart ached just knowing she’d never see her King again. The pain never eased, it only worsened with each passing second. She must make this pain go away before her heart exploded with grief.

Mary looked at the bottom of the ravine. A blue-green pool of water collected the water from the mountain’s waterfall a hundred feet below. It looked so peaceful, so inviting. She saw her King’s face in the water below, calling her, “Meine Liebe.”

“Meinen König,” Mary said. She stepped off of the cliff and joined her king in the water below.

Schlöss Neuschwanstein

Present day

“There’s no way in hell I’m walking across that bridge!” Britta said. Fear filled her as she looked across Mary’s bridge. The narrow walking path, suspended near Fussen Germany, provided the best view of Neuschwanstein castle.

“You’ll be fine, watch,” Tilo, Britta’s husband, said. He jumped up and down on the bridge to demonstrate its strength.

“Tilo, no! Are you crazy?” Britta asked, terrified Tilo’s act would break the bridge.

“But you’ll enjoy a fantastic view of Neuschwanstein castle if you just walk out a few yards onto the bridge,” Tilo said.

“I have a great view of King Ludwig’s castle from here, thank you very much,” Britta said. Her eyes mistakenly peered down at the steep ravine below. “Besides, this place gives me the heebeegeebees. It’s as if something awful happened here.”

“You don’t believe the story about King Ludwig’s secret lover falling to her death after she heard king Ludwig drowned do you?” Tilo asked.

“It’s so sad. He was about to marry her and make her is queen. The beautiful castle was barely lived in,” Britta said, admiring the fairy tale castle nestled on the side of the mountain. The castle which supposedly inspired Cinderella’s castle at Walt Disney World.

“Oh my God, please come off of the bridge. This place scares me. I sense a tragic sadness here,” Britta said. A freezing breeze flowed through her. A strong sense of loss filled her heart with grief. She cried mournfully at the heart ache filling her soul. She teetered on the edge of the cliff. She fought the urge to hurl her depressed form down info the ravine. The waterfall poured into a blue-green pool below the bridge. It looked so peaceful down below. She’d break free of her sadness. All she had to do was take one step.

She couldn’t stop crying. She heard a whisper from the pool below, “Meine Liebe.” Britta saw an image of a man’s face in the pool of water below, inviting her in. “Mein König,” a voice whispered from inside her. The unbearable pain forced Britta to lift her foot into the air, hovering above the hundred foot drop.

“Britta. No!” Tilo said. He rushed towards her, tackling her backwards into the safety of the cliff’s embankment.

Britta felt the cold sadness leave her body as she watched the apparition fall into the ravine below. The ghost of Mary, the almost queen of Bavaria.

Author’s Note

The characters Mary and Mary’s spirit are fictional. All other characters, places, and events are based on facts. To this day, no one knows how King Ludwig II of Bavaria drowned in shallow water near his palace in Berg. He emptied the coffers to build his ornate homes-Linderhof and Schloss Neuschwanstein. The fairy-tale castle took 17 years to build. The King of Bavaria only lived there for 102 days before the doctors declared him insane, stripped him of his throne, and confined him to the Palace in Berg shortly before his mysterious death.

My husband and I toured Neuschwanstein in 1999. Although I refused to step one foot on Mary’s bridge, I did not experience any paranormal activity.

Scientists synthesized the last named element, Darmstadtium, in 1994 in Darmstadt, Germany.

Sources: Neuschwanstein tour, Wikipedia, Rick Steve’s Germany, and Frommer’s Germany

.

RHENIUM

RHENIUM

By: Terri Talley Venters

Carrie signed the last tax return of her hardest tax season ever. Relief washed through her exhausted body, too tired to even get up from her office chair after working eighty hours a week for the last month.

Knock, knock

“Are you finished yet?” Tim asked, standing in Carrie’s office doorway.

Her egotistical boss proved the biggest asshole in the world. She only stayed here because he’d promised to make her a partner in the small accounting firm after this tax season ended. She’d worked her tail off for the last ten years. She did most of the work while Tim golfed, entertained clients at expensive restaurants, and rendezvoused with his mistress. But his absence proved better than when Tim made an appearance to yell, scream, and piss off the employees.

“Just finished, excuse me for a second,” she said.

Carrie stood up and walked the five feet to her secretary’s desk. She handed the return over to Sharon and said, “Here’s the last one, can you please have the courier deliver the return to the Miltons’ home address. They’ll the sign the 1040 and file it this afternoon,” she said.

“Consider it done,” Sharon said.

“Then go home and take tomorrow off. You deserve it. And thanks again for all of your hard work,” Carrie said.

Carrie turned back to her boss and said, “Now we’re done.”

“Fantastic. Now you can send out all the bills. Do you have a few minutes?” Tim said, gesturing towards his office.

“Absolutely,” she said and followed him into the plush corner office next door.

So this is it. He’s about to make me a partner! Finally, I deserve it.

“Carrie, you’ve done an outstanding job this tax season. You run this place and I’d be completely lost without you. It’s like you don’t even need me,” Tim said.

No shit.

“You proved yourself invaluable with the capital-loss transaction. Brilliant work. You saved the client $50,000,000 in capital gains tax,” Tim said.

“How lucky was he. First he discovers his vacation home in Chile was perched on top of a rhenium mine. He sold the home and the underlying mineral rights for $250,000,000. Then we help him evade the enormous tax hit,” Carrie said.

“I never knew rhenium proved so lucrative. They use it to make jet engines,” Tim said.

“Did he pay our $5,000,000 fee yet?” Carrie asked.

“Like I said, you are invaluable to this firm. You work hard, your brilliant, you handle the staff well, and maintain a harmonized team,” Tim said.

Why is he avoiding my question? Why is he being so nice to me?

“But,” Tim said.

Uh Oh.

“I need you to fire two people tomorrow,” Tim said.

“What? The staff worked so hard this tax season. I can’t fire anyone,” Carrie said.

“Then one of them will be you. And by the way, I’m not promoting you to partner this year,” Tim said.

Carrie froze, shocked by his words. She wanted to rip him a new one right now. How dare he not promote her to partner?. The greedy bastard didn’t want to share the profits. The thought of quitting entered her head, but she refrained, for now. She maintained her professionalism and her dignity. She didn’t want to create a scene at the office. She would exit gracefully, gather her personal items, and put her letter of resignation on Tim’s desk after he left.

“I’m sorry I can’t make you a partner yet, but next year I will. Oh, and due to the depressed economy, no bonuses or raises this year, period,” Tim said. He stood up, grabbed his sports coat, and left.

You fucking asshole!

Carrie stood up as the shock settled in. Dazed, she walked to her office and sat in front of her laptop. She started typing: “Effective immediately, I hereby resign.”

Bleep.

A new email popped up on her screen. Carrie gasped at the headline.

IRS announces Whistle Blower award

Carrie read the latest IRS bulletin with piqued curiosity. She couldn’t believe the IRS would award whistleblowers 15-30% of collected taxes of at least $10,000,000. The sense of karma flowed through her veins. This was a sign.

She deleted her resignation letter and walked to the file room. She retrieved the enormous boxes related to the tax evasion transaction and walked to the copy room. She unfastened the staples, loaded the first stack of paper onto the feeder, and pressed the green copy button. She walked to the break room and retrieved a Red Bull from the refrigerator, prepared for another long night.

Two years later

“We’re in trouble,” Tim said.

“Why? What happened?” Carrie asked, hiding her smugness.

“We’re being sued,” Tim said, punching Carrie’s desk with his fist. He paced back and forth in her office like a caged cheetah.

“I’m not a partner, I don’t think I can be sued,” Carrie said.

Tim shot her a dirty look, obviously pissed about the accuracy of her statement. “Do you remember our client from Chile with the Rhenium mine?” Tim asked.

“I’ll never forget that transaction for as long as I live,” Carrie said, waiting to pull the rug out from under her asshole, soon to be ex-boss.

“The IRS audited him and disallowed the hocus pocus loss transaction. He owes them $50,000,000 in capital gains tax plus penalties and interest. He’s suing my firm for the $5,000,000 fee I charged him when we created his phony $50,000,000 capital loss to offset his gain,” Tim said.

“Do you still have the $5,000,000 fee you collected?” Carrie asked.

“No! I used it as a down payment to buy the strip mall. Now the value dropped by half and I owe more than the damn thing is worth. I’m ruined,” Tim said, slumping his head in defeat.

“I almost resigned after the transaction because you didn’t make me a partner like you’d promised. Funny thing is, not making partner worked to my advantage in the end,” Carrie said. She smiled, no longer able to hide her happiness at her newfound wealth and her dick-for-a-boss’s well deserved demise.

“Why are you smiling? I’m going to have to sell my practice and you’ll be out of a job. Unless you want to buy the accounting firm from me?” Tim asked.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m retiring,” Carrie said. She showed Tim the check she’d just received from the United States Treasury in the amount of $10,800,000.

“What’s this?” Tim asked, with a priceless look of incredulity.

“I’m the whistle blower,” Carrie said.

NICKEL

NICKEL

By: Terri Talley Venters

Mary volunteered diligently at the Foundation for Hodgkin’s Disease. Her skills with accounting and Quick books made her an invaluable resource to the charitable organization.

Mary prayed for the families of these cancer patients. Although the chemotherapy administered to her beloved husband proved ineffective, she prayed these cancer patients saw more successful results than her dearly departed, Daniel.

Nearly ten years had elapsed since her husband’s untimely death at the age of thirty four. She threw her grief into her prayers and received her calling. She started volunteering her services at the Foundation as a form of penance. Not penance for her, but penance for the foundation.

The doctors at the foundation assured her of Daniels’s admittance into the clinical trial for the break-though cancer drug. However, some bureaucratic bullshit kept him out of the trials and he passed away as a result of the foundation’s crucial mistake. Mary hated the foundation ever since, and started taking her revenge the first week she started volunteering.

Mary entered the dummy invoices she created into Quick Books. The foundation spent so much money on lab work, that another $9,000 every week went unnoticed. Using the software, she made the checks payable to the bogus lab company. But instead of printing the checks as written in Quick Books, she hand wrote the actual checks, made payable to herself.

She knew the names of the payee didn’t appear on the bank statements. Besides, she was the only one who looked at the statements anyway, Mary’s scheme worked as long as no one reviewed copies of the cancelled checks. The Foundation’s Board of Director’s only looked at the account balance online and reviewed the financial statements which she prepared monthly. As long as the cash balance per bank reconciled with the balance per books, no questions arose.

Her prior career as a CPA made her an invaluable, “free resource” to the foundation. She did everything on the financial side. It surprised her to learn no one ever reviewed her work at all. The frugality of the board to pay anyone, combined with Mary’s trusting appearance, raised no cause for concern or the hiring an Independent Auditor.

Going to the bank weekly to deposit the fraudulent checks proved easy. Given her occupation and work attire, no one questioned her large deposits each week. Mary applauded her brilliance for making each check just under $10,000. The bank only reported deposits in excess of $10,000 to the IRS. She never even paid taxes on her ill-gotten gains, just on the interest it earned.

It only took a few years to accumulate enough to run away with. She could’ve stopped years ago when her account balance fell just short of two million dollars, but she couldn’t stop. Just one more check and she’d make her escape. Now she prayed, not for stealing from a charitable foundation, but prayed her greed didn’t get her caught.

“Sister Mary, we need to talk,” the priest said, staring at the nun who’d embezzled millions.

“Yes, Father Dean?” Mary asked. She stood up, adorned in the traditional black habit. She saw two strange men standing authoritatively next to the priest. Mary grasped her crucifix necklace, silently praying for forgiveness.

“Sister Mary, would you like me to hear your confession before these gentlemen question you about the foundation’s finances?” the priest asked in his kind and gentle manner.

“Yes, Father Dean,” Mary said, looking down shamefully for what she’d done.

“Don’t worry, Mary,” Father Dean said, looking at his favorite Nun through disappointed, yet forgiving eyes. “You will serve a steep penance, but you will be forgiven. If I had a nickel for every time someone broke the eighth commandment, Thou Shall Not Steal.”

Phosphorus’s Glow and Life’s Oxygen

Phosphorus’s Glow and Life’s Oxygen

By Cherie Reich

Linia cocked her head to listen for Griffon or her friend Barinia, but she could no longer hear them. Good. She was far enough away from them. All their smooching had grated on her last nerve. Some camping trip they’d had.

She crept closer to the sleeping draken. Pegasiflies buzzed around it in lazy circles, and the draken’s feather-tipped tail swished to swat them away. Steam floated from its nostrils. A leafy frond blocked her entrance to the animal’s nest, but she easily shoved the leaf aside and entered. If she couldn’t get to the cave, then she wouldn’t be able to check out the supposed hieroglyphics inside. No draken or annoying Griffon was going to stop her.

Her toes sought out each step. One wrong move and the draken would awaken. Heat and the scent of rotten eggs greeted her at the cave’s entrance. Her nose wrinkled, and she pressed her hand under her nostrils. Disgusting! But it didn’t deter her as she scurried into the cavern.

Darkness collapsed around her. She gulped and held out a hand to feel her way. Why didn’t she bring something for light? Or at least her backlit Litras? She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. If she left now and returned, it might be too late. The draken wouldn’t stay asleep forever.

Indecision seized her in its icy grasp. But what was that glow farther back? Curiosity broke the spell, and she stumbled forward. The faint white luminescence of the phosphorus rocks lit the cave. And upon these stones were the hieroglyphs.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself. Her fingers hovered over the ancient markings. If only she had time to decipher them . . .

The ground rumbled, and she bumped against the rock. Was it a cave in? A tremor?

No, it was much worse. Reddish eyes flashed from the cave’s entrance as the draken snorted.

Oh, no!

The creature slipped into the cave, its nose sniffing the air. Did drakens eat Perseans? Linia didn’t know, but she didn’t really want to find out either. Her back pressed against rough stone. Should she run for it? The draken blocked the entrance, but could find another way out?

Roar!

Flames burst from the draken’s mouth, and Linia screamed as heat lapped around her. She would die here.

“Please, stop.” Her words couldn’t have any effect on the beast, but it did stop and look at her. She held up her hands. “I don’t mean you any harm.”

The draken lowered and leaned its feathered head closer to her hands. Did it understand her? Could she befriend it?

“It’s okay,” she whispered, fear draining from her and pooling at her feet.

Then, blue light filled the entrance. She gasped. “No!”

The draken tensed and trembled as electricity flowed through it. When it collapsed upon the ground and the light vanished, tears streamed down Linia’s face.

“Are you okay?” Griffon jogged into the cave and wrapped his arms around her.

“You k-killed it.” She breathed in snot.

“It was going to eat you. What were you thinking about running off like that? Barinia and I’ve been looking for you.” His words gave her no comfort, and she shoved away from him.

“The draken wasn’t hurting me, and I’m fine.” She slapped away her tears. “How could you do it, Griffon?”

He shook his head. “You sure know a great way to treat your shining savior. How about giving me a kiss for saving you?”

Her fingernails dug into her palms. She’d rather punch him in the mouth than kiss him. Instead, she pushed past him and scurried around the poor draken. The tears burned her eyes again. How could he do that?

“Where’re you going?”

“Leave me alone.” She picked up her pace and brushed away the pegasiflies swarming the entrance.

“Linia?”

At the sound of her name, she ran from the cave and Griffon. The hieroglyphics were forgotten, but Griffon’s actions were not. She didn’t even stop when she saw Barinia as she packed her belongings to leave.

The image of that electrocuted creature singed her mind and crushed her heart.

*

 

Alezandros grabbed Sophisa’s hand and helped her over building rubble. Her gloved fingers tightened around his. He breathed deeply as the mask rustled against his nostrils. The cold Medusan air would freeze their nose hairs, if they didn’t wear the masks, but he regretted it hid her pretty face. Her long locks writhed along her back and stroked his arm. In some ways, she was more beautiful now than any time before.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” he asked her.

Her green eyes pierced into him, but he didn’t detect her general warmth. “I don’t know why you like coming out here, Alezandros. It’s cold and scary.”

“Well, it is cold out here,” he said as they walked hand in hand along the old city paths. His foot knocked a rusted-out can out of the way. “But scary? No, not really. Everything’s dead out here. It’s just the leftovers of our civilization.”

“Leftovers . . .” She scoffed. “Why couldn’t we have a normal date? It’d be nice to return to Bellami’s.”

“Bellami’s is great, but what about adventure? It’s not every day we get to come to the surface.” He pressed her gloved hand to his mask. If only he could kiss it through the fabrics. “Come on, this isn’t really that bad, is it?”

“Well . . . I suppose not.” She lightened up a little bit. “I suppose it is kinda—”

Grr!

“What was that?” Her voice rose in pitch.

Alezandros pulled her closer. His heart pounded with excitement instead of fear. Could something exist at the end of their world? “I’m not sure.”

“Let’s go.” She tugged on his arm.

“Wait a minute.” He didn’t budge when the kanog emerged from an abandoned building.

Its purple tongue lolled from its mouth. Its fur was patchy, and Alezandros could count every bone in its body, if he wanted. Weren’t kanogs extinct? He’d never seen one except in old pictures. His grandparents had had some of the last ones as pets.

The creature growled again.

“Alezandros,” Sophisa whined.

 “Wait. This could be the last of its kind. We should help it.” He extracted himself from her grasp and crept toward the animal. “Shh, it’s okay, boy. We won’t hurt you.”

“Don’t go near it.” She didn’t follow him closer.

The kanog lowered and bared its sharp teeth. The growling increased until it barked.

“It’s okay,” he said again as he reached out a hand toward it. If they could take it back . . .

The creature leapt toward his hand and sunk its teeth into it.

He cried out, jerking his hand away from its fangs as the growling stopped with a quick yelp and nothing.

A stone kanog stood poised for action, as if it never existed.

Alezandros spun around, blood flying from his injured hand. “What did you do that for?”

Sophisa’s eyes widened as if he slapped her. “That monster bit you! You could have an infection now. We need to get you to a healer.”

“I’ll heal just fine on my own.” His hand stung, but the kanog was probably just hungry and scared. It didn’t mean to hurt him. Besides, Medusans were fast healers. It wasn’t like it tore off his merdre limb!

“Let’s go back underground.” He no longer wanted to be up here with her. Her reaction seemed to suck the oxygen from his lungs.

“Good,” she said with as much finality as he did.

Alezandros glanced back at the frozen creature. Poor thing. If only he had done something differently, the kanog might still be alive. He shook his head in dismay.

They left without holding hands.

Defying Gravity by Cherie Reich

Book Description: Homesick upon the SS Perseid, Linia, a young linguist, thinks she signed up for a mission of peace, but her crew members have another plan: attack the planet Medusa.

Bored with his dying planet, Alezandros, a space cruiser pilot, joins the Medusan Army in his quest for adventure.

When the SS Perseid clashes with the Medusans’ space cruisers, Alezandros and Linia’s lives intertwine. Sucked through a wormhole, they crash upon a post-apocalyptic Earth and are captured by cannibals. In adjacent cells, Alezandros and Linia cast their differences aside for a common bond: escape. But when romantic feelings emerge between them, they might do the unthinkable because for a Medusan and a Persean to fall in love, it would defy gravity.

Book Links: Surrounded by Books Publishing http://sbbpublishingandeditorialservices.wordpress.com/

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13446448-defying-gravity

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0077DBKS4

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0077DBKS4  

Amazon DE https://www.amazon.de/dp/B0077DBKS4

Amazon FR https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B0077DBKS4

Amazon IT  https://www.amazon.it/dp/B0077DBKS4

Amazon ES  https://www.amazon.es/dp/B0077DBKS4

Author Bio: Cherie Reich is a writer, freelance editor and library assistant. She enjoys writing horror, fantasy, and mysteries, but she doesn’t let that stop her from trying other genres. Her short stories have appeared in magazines and anthologies, and her e-books include Once Upon a December Nightmare, The Best of Raven and the Writing Desk, and Defying Gravity. She is a member of the Virginia Writers Club and Valley Writers and placed third in Roanoke Valley’s BIG READ writing contest.

Author Links:  Website http://cheriereich.webs.com

Blog http://cheriereich.blogspot.com

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/authorcheriereich

Twitter @bookworm0753 https://twitter.com/#!/bookworm0753

         
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SILICON

SILICON

By: Terri Talley Venters

　

You are cordially invited to a Valentines’ Day Party

February 14, 1913

8 o’clock in the evening

At the beach home of Jeb and Shelby McAlister

In St. Augustine, Florida

Priscilla squealed with excitement as she danced in circles, delighted to receive the coveted Valentines’ Day party invitation hosted by her friends, twins Jeb and Shelby. Priscilla, along with everyone else fortunate enough to attend, looked forward this annual party of the season. The tradition started several years ago when Jeb and Shelby’s parents wanted society to mingle with their teenage children on Valentines’ Day in hopes to find good matches for their twins amongst the children of their wealthy friends.

Everyone anticipated an engagement between Priscilla and Jeb. In fact Priscilla let Jeb kiss her on the beach at last year’s Valentines’ Day party. Although she’d hoped for a proposal last year, she understood the delay since he and his twin sister, along with their parents, departed for Europe a few days after last year’s party.

Priscilla worried why he never wrote to her during this last year. She feared Jeb’s parents would try to marry him off to a lady of nobility during their Grand Tour. She read the social pages everyday and felt thankful to hear no news of him. Her heart would break if she learned Jeb got engaged to another woman.

It didn’t surprise her to not see him since last year. The McAlister’s lived in Philadelphia, while Priscilla and her family lived in New York. But like most wealthy families, they spent their winters in Florida. They took the Florida East Coast railroad to St. Augustine, Florida and stayed in the luxurious Ponce De Leon Hotel. Since the beaches in Florida were so beautiful, many wealthy families built their winter homes here including the McAlister family.

Valentines’ Day finally arrived and Priscilla arrived at the McAlister’s enormous beach home located on the inlet leading into St. Augustine. Her full-length, red satin gown would normally appear inappropriate on an unmarried woman, but her mother acquiesced and allowed Priscilla to borrow hers for this special evening.

Priscilla walked up the steps of the party and felt breathless at the sight of everyone wearing their finery--the women in beautiful gowns and jewels and the men in coats with tails and top hats. She entered the beautiful home and fantasized about her future with Jeb. She pictured herself wearing the latest fashions from Paris, adorned with diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires, depending on which gown she chose. But the best part about her fantasy life was the title of Mrs. Jeb McAlister.

She entered the enormous ballroom and immediately searched for Jeb. She took the glass of champagne handed to her by a servant, but ignored the scrumptious buffet meticulously laid out in the formal dinning room of the mansion. She knew eating like a field hand repulsed most gentlemen, along with her waistline. She saw many of her friends which delighted her, but she saw no sign of any of the McAlister’s.

“Priscilla, darling, how wonderful to see you. Have you met Matthew Oxford of Boston?” Madeline asked, kissing her cheeks to greet her friend since childhood.

“Of course, I remember Mr. Oxford. How do you do?” Priscilla asked. She raised her gloved-hand and allowed him to kiss the silken fabric protecting her delicate fingers.

“How do you do, Priscilla. How wonderful to see you again. I was just telling Madeline how sorry I was to hear about her husband who went down on the Titanic last April,” Matthew said.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Madeline. And how unfortunate I must again compete with the beautiful Madeline Astor. How can I possibly land a fine husband when every eye is on you tonight,” Priscilla said.

“Thank you, Priscilla. But I’m afraid you outshine me in your beautiful red gown,” Madeline said.

“Madeline and I were just discussing how the tragedy of so many lost souls on the Titanic increased my business last year,” Matthew said.

“How interesting. It’s good to hear something positive derived from such a tragedy,” Priscilla said. She tried to hide her shock to hear a man discussing business in front of ladies. But his breach of etiquette reminded her of Matthew’s “nouveau riche” status.

“Mr. Oxford makes headstones for a living and his father owns a granite quarry,” Madeline said, catching Priscilla up on the conversation while sharing her misery of the dreadful tale.

“You see, tombstones are made from granite, although granite is composed 65% of silicon dioxide,” Matthew said.

Priscilla forced her eyes not to close with boredom from this dreadful conversation. She needed to find Jeb without appearing rude. “Sounds fascinating, Matthew. Although I don’t care to ever see another tombstone again, I’d love to hear more about the tombstone making business. But if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to search for our host, young Mr. McAlister,” Priscilla said.

Priscilla walked out to the beach and stood in the same spot where Jeb had kissed her one year ago tonight. She missed him terribly and felt disappointed she hadn’t seen him at his own party. She understood his duties as a host, but she thought it rather odd that no one saw either Jeb or Shelby at tonight’s party. In fact, no one saw or heard from the McAlister’s since last year’s party.

She looked out at the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean and thought of all the lost people who perished when the Titanic sank last spring. Priscilla prayed to see her beloved again. “Oh, Jeb, I miss you terribly. I love you and I want to be your wife more than anything in the world. Please come back to me.”

Priscilla couldn’t believe her eyes at the sight before her. As her vision watched the circling lights of the lighthouse across the bay, she saw a figure standing on the rocks. He looked like Jeb. She blinked her eyes and thought her prayers were finally answered. Her heart knew the image she craved to see again belonged to her beloved, Jeb McAlister.

She walked towards him and yelled, “Jeb.”

He looked at her without saying a word. He started walking towards the house and Priscilla followed him. Although it thrilled her to see him again, it concerned her when he didn’t come to her now. After an entire year apart, she felt disappointed at his lack of response. She’d expected Jeb to take her into his arms because he missed her as much as she missed him.

She watched Jeb head to the house and couldn’t keep up with his fast pace. She watched him walk through the open front door, almost knocking over a late arriving guest. He didn’t even stop to greet him. What happened to his manners?

Priscilla ran into the house and screamed “Jeb, Jeb, please wait, it’s me, Priscilla.”

“Did you see Jeb?” someone asked.

“Yes, he walked right through the front door a few seconds ago. Didn’t you see him too?” Priscilla asked as she looked through the crowded party to search for Jeb.

“No, in fact no one has seen Jeb, Shelby, or their parents tonight,” the other guest said.

“Look, there he is. Jeb is so tall; I can easily spot his top hat from here. But what’s the white thing around his neck? It looks like a life jacket,” Priscilla asked.

“Wouldn’t surprise me if Jeb decided to take a midnight sail by the Castillo de San Marco. But I don’t see him. Where is he?” Matthew asked.

“Look, he’s right there going out the back door. He’s probably headed towards his boat. It’s docked at the rear of the property,” Priscilla said, pointing towards Jeb.

“Hey, everyone, Jeb is taking us on a midnight sail in the harbor. Follow the man in a top hat and life preserver and grab bottle of champagne,” Matthew said.

“Hurrah!” the party guests cheered in unison as they headed out the back of the house.

“Where is he? I don’t see him,” everyone asked.

“He’s right there. How can you not see him? Everyone, follow me,” Priscilla said.

She led the party outside, and everyone screamed in horror at the sight before them. Four new granite gravestones now occupied the backyard. Priscilla immediately read the engraving on the third marker. She now knew why she never heard from Jeb again.

Here lies Jeb McAlister

Beloved Son and Brother

Born Jan 18, 1888

Lost at sea on the H.M.S, Titanic

April 15, 1912