Bebo

She found Grandma Bikini drunk as a proverbial skunk and passed out in her orange upholstered easy chair. The woman snored heartily as Paloma tried to rouse her. Fortunately for her, Grandma had left her back door unlocked, allowing easy entrance.

“Grandma, wake up! It’s Paloma.”

Grandma Bikini snurgled. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

Paloma blew out an exasperated breath. This wouldn’t be easy. She left Grandma and marched to the kitchen to put on a pot of strong coffee. She must sober her up. She returned a few minutes later with the steaming brew in the largest mug she could find, and set it down on the table before Grandma.

“Grandma Bikini I made coffee. You must wake up now. I need your help.”

Grandma flailed her arms. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everybody needs me.” Her words slurred together. “You need me. They need me. I need me.” The old woman chuckled. “The hell with all of you sons-of-bitches. I ain’t takin’ my clothes off ever again.”

Oh, boy. Apparently Grandma was reliving her days as a stripper. With a sigh, Paloma returned to the kitchen to check the liquor cabinet. How much had she had to drink? She checked the lower shelves to find it fully stocked with gin, scotch, vodka and some pricey bottles of Australian wines. All appeared new, their seals unbroken. She peered into the trash bin. Bingo. An empty pint of vodka.

She poured a cup of coffee for herself, then went back into the den to check on Grandma, who was coming around.

“Who the hell are you?” she growled, fixing one rheumy eye on Paloma.

“Your neighbor, Grandma.”

Her gray brows furrowed. “Oh yeah, right. The gal with the miserable cat that poops in my posies.”

“The one with a huge, huge, problem,” Paloma added under her breath.

Grandma shot ramrod straight in the chair as if she’d suddenly come out from under a spell. Paloma sat up, too. My, but the effect of alcohol had worn off quickly.

“Guess when you found me you thought I’d tanked up on the sauce and passed out, eh?”

Paloma cleared her throat. She had. But Grandma appeared to have made an astonishing recovery.

“I wasn’t snockered ya’ little brat. It’s the effects of this powerful Blue Moon we’re having. What you witnessed was one of my visions. That’s why I gave up driving two years ago. Never knew when one would hit.”

“Vision? You mean as in a psychic vision?”

“Yep. They’re stronger during some phases of the moon, but this Blue Moon is double whammy for me. I don’t know that I’ve ever had them this close together. Now I want you to make a wish, Paloma.”

Paloma stared. “A wish? For what?”

“Dearie, everyne knows that wishes made on blue moons are magical. Now’s yer chance.”

Grandma Bikini was serious? Paloma didn’t have to think. She knew her exact wish. “I want Robert to come back to me,” she said softly. “That’s my only wish in the world. I want him to live again.” Emptiness filled her at the words. Nothing had changed by making a silly wish. Her burning question also hadn’t been answered. How could she save him? She sighed, exasperated. She was back to square one.

“Oh, hell!” Grandma sprang from the chair like a woman half her age. “I’m gonna miss it.” She teetered to the television set. “Today on Passion’s Crest, Maximillian Chancellor reveals his true identity to Celeste.”

Paloma had no time to waste discussing soap operas. “Grandma, I need your help.”

“You think you need help,” she said, waving her hand. “Wait ‘til Celeste gets a load of old Max. She’s gonna need a crap load of help dealing with him, too. Had his face altered at one of them fancy schmancy Swiss hospitals while he was hiding out from corrupt government agents. Actually he’s not really Max, but Reynaldo in disguise. You know, the hunky Latino gardener Celeste met and had an affair with while she was at the sanitarium recovering f

Sebastian Santos always travelled alone. He didn't like humas except to feed from them and he never wanted a wife. When Lord Nikolas told him he must find a wife to help rebuild his clan his first reaction was defiance and anger, but he could not disobey his leader. One night he woke to find a beautiful woman asleep on his porch. He reached out to touch the mind of the sleeping beauty to bend her to his will and relized it was he that had been touched. Could this woman be the one he one that will change his life forever? Or would this night's prey be more trouble than she was worth?

SNEAK PEEK

She was alone...she was drunk...she was perfect.
Blocking out everyone else's mind around him, he concentrated on her.
She was young...blonde...pretty...
He pushed through the crowd moving faster as more information came in.
She normally worked nights, but she was off tonight...
He smiled.
Her car wasn't far... He would return her t it when he was through with her.
A blonde was dancing, laughing, jumping up and down, it was her, and he could almost see her clearly through the sea people.
He smiled and nodded. This one he would consider making love to. Thinking about tasting the wine mixed with the lust in her blood and looking into her pretty face was making his pants fit more uncomfortable as he moved closer to her. It had been a long time since he made love to a human; he was due.
He reached out to make physical contact with her and make the connection complete when someone else grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Stunned, he broke the connection.
"Elsie?" a woman screamed over the music.
The pretty blonde smiled and hugged the woman. "Hey, Amber! I didn't know you were going t be here tonight. Why didn't you say something? We could have ridden together. I'm having a blast, are you?"
Amber chuckled. "Yes, Elsie, I'm having a good time, too. Are you ok? Do you need a ride home? Nancy and I are getting ready to leave."
Elsie laughed. "Yeah, I guess I shouldn't be driving, huh? Sure, I can get my car tomorrow. Can I just hear this song? I love this band."
Amber smiled. "Sure, Elsie. I'll let Nancy know you're coming with us." Sebastian could hear them as if no music played at all and he listened and watched their exchange, cursing his luck and the woman for intercepting him. His first opportunity of the night had gotten away from him. He turned his attention to the other woman. He could no longer see her clearly as she walked away from him through the crowd, so he sent out a link while she was still in range.
When his mind touched hers, it was like a current of electricity went through him. He almost stumbled backwards from the reaction to it, but he could not bring himself to sever it. When his mind was connected to the woman, after the initial zap, an overwhelming sense of peace, acceptance and love wash over him. He smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel good feeling that was infusing his body. He even felt dizzy. It was a feeling he was not unaccustomed to. What more could this woman do for him if a simple mind link to her did this? As he contemplated the possibilities, the link was suddenly broken and he felt like someone had pushed him into the deep end of the pool.
His eyes popped open and looked around frantically pushing through the crowd, but she was gone. He searched around for the pretty blonde and realized she too was gone. He blew out a frustrated breath.
"Damn."
He couldn't take the time to look for them, it would have to wait. He had wasted enough time and he had another more urgent call to attend to. He needed to feed; he would hunt them later.

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Madison, Indiana, 1845

Rosaleen Archer thinks God hates her. Born out of wedlock and raised by a riverboat gambler, she's been told her illegitimacy makes her hateful in God's eyes. So she doesn't look to Divine help when she finds herself orphaned, widowed, and fleeing the man who killed her husband. Longing to be accepted by society, Rosaleen hopes her talent for playing the piano will be the conduit through which she will find that acceptance. But the steamboat accident that frees her from the clutches of her tormentor, deposits her on the banks of the Ohio River at Madison, Indiana, delaying her plans to travel to New York and pursue a career as a concert pianist. Jacob Hale is working to build the church that had been the dream of his late friend and mentor. But he is haunted by the fear that as a minister of the gospel, he will never live up to the legacy of the man who taught him the ministry and so, do both his late teacher and God, a disservice. So when Rosaleen rebuffs his attempts to lead her to the Lord, it fuels his self-doubts. Can Jacob convince Rosaleen God's love is meant for her, too? And when her dark past come hunting, can he save them both from the man determined to own Rosaleen's life----whatever the cost?

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Visit Ramona on the web at www.ramonakcecil.com