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Locked Out On Christmas Eve!
I put the finishing touches on the tree, and noticed that the outside lights were off. I flipped the switch for the porch lights, and nothing happened. Hmmm. Had I overload a circuit breaker? I had gone a tiny bit overboard with the decorations. Pulling on my slippers, I went outside to check the circuit breaker panel. Nope, everything was good.
Then it hit me. Those pesky gophers had chewed through my power lines again. I headed for the front door and turned the handle. Crap! The door was locked. My dogs looked out the window, and innocently wagged their tails.
Just friggin’ terrific. It was midnight, colder than a grave diggers’ ass, and I was wearing a ratty nightgown. Thankfully my friend, Chris, had a key to my house. The bad news was she lived several miles away.
My teeth chattering, I hurried down the sidewalk, and suddenly my residential street was busier than the freeway at rush hour.
A kid stuck his head out the driver’s window and hollered, “Hey baby, need a ride?”
I increased my pace and yelled, “No thanks.”
Another car slowed to a crawl and kissy noises emitted from the interior. Really? My granny gown wasn’t the least bit sexy. I gave him the one finger salute.
Tires squealing, they took off yelling naughty words.
They were definitely getting coal in their Christmas stockings. Trying to keep to the shadows, I stepped on a beer bottle, and the next thing I knew I was face down in a prickly bush. Ouch!
I wiggled out of the bush. God, I hated idiots who felt they had the right to toss their trash anywhere they pleased. My hand closed over the bottle, and I was suddenly blinded by a brilliant white light. Shading my eyes, I waved the beer bottle at the nice cop. “Hi there. Kinda nippy tonight, isn’t it?”
“Are you drunk ma’am?”
I babbled nervously, “Do I look drunk?”
Laughter in his voice the cop answered, “Yes ma’am you do.”
He dangled a pair of handcuff in front of my face before I realized it was Chris’s husband. “You’re such a jerk, Ed.”
“So I have been told. You lock yourself out again?”
“Yes, could you give me a ride?”
He opened the back door on his patrol car, and gestured. “Climb on in.”
I let out a long sigh. “Why can’t I sit in the front seat?”
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“Very funny.” I climbed in.
Before he shut the door, Ed quipped, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you…”
“Shut up, Ed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shut the door and proceeded to drive all the way back to my house with the overhead lights flashing psychedelically. Ed parked in front of my house, and hit the siren for a long ten seconds. “Whoops!”
Faces appeared in my neighbor’s windows. “You’re a real riot.”
Laughing, Ed opened the car door, escorted me up to my front door, and unlocked it for me.
“When did you start carrying my key with you?”
“Right after you locked yourself out of the house for the eighth time.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
He plunked a Santa hat on his head. “I live to serve. Ho. Ho. Ho.”
“Boring night, huh?”
“Yup, Merry Christmas.”
Tihar travels to Earth to find and claim a Jones’ female. He knows they are fearless, psychic warriors and talented in bed sport. Ten minutes after meeting Sarah, Tihar knows the feisty, little human is the one he has been searching for. Now he must convince Sarah, she’s meant to be his.
The first-time Sarah sees Tihar, she’s a bit freaked out. The Askole warrior has tentacles, snakelike features and black armored-plated skin. Even weirder she finds him strangely attractive. Tihar’s torso is sculpted perfection and his black scales are kind of sexy. Who knew challenging Tihar to combat would start the Askole mating dance. He thinks Earth girls are easy and he’s about to learn messing with a Jones female is never a good idea.
As the two grow closer, their romance comes to a screeching halt when Askole rebels attack Tihar’s home world. He tells Sarah she is his heart’s destiny and he will love her to the end of time. He abruptly severs their mental bond and disappears. Reeling from shock, Sarah won’t let a galactic war stop her from hunting him down. Can the two of them find their way back into each other’s arms?
About the Author: I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for thirty-one years and to keep insanity at bay, I took up writing. Not to worry. The insanity isn’t catching – much. Other than the addiction to chocolate and the twitch in my left eye, I’m good. Next up in the Coletti Warlord series is Crossing Quinn.
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