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Amanda had been trying to get him to understand that their relationship was over, but he just refused to listen. No matter what she said to him, he just didn’t seem to understand that there was no chance of the two of them getting back together. There was nothing he could do to fix their relationship. There had to be a way she could convince him to leave her alone. And then it came to her. A plan so simple it had to work.

She stood, walked over to the sink and filled the vase with water. She went back into the main room. “There is something that I haven’t told you.” She said smiling at him as she handed him the vase.

Allen went over and sat down at the couch. He put the vase on the coffee table and unwrapped the plastic around the flowers. “Yes, what it is?” he asked as he began arranging flowers.

Amanda put on her best poker face, put her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers. “The thing is, I’m seeing someone else.”

Allen looked up at her, his face full of disbelief.”I’m sorry I must have misheard you, for a moment there I thought you said you were seeing someone else.”

“I did. I am.”

“That’s impossible!”

“It’s the truth. He came here with me. We are on vacation together.”

“I don’t believe you.” Allen said calmly and went back to arranging flowers.

“You don’t believe what?” Devin was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel. He was still dripping wet and drops of water were running down his chest. “Are you ok Baker? I thought I heard shouting and then loud bangs?”

Amanda raced across the room, her arms outstretched towards Devin, “Darling, now don’t be upset I was just explaining everything to Allen.” She reached Devin and wrapped her arms around him. “I told him all about us.”

Devin looked at Amanda, a puzzled expression on his face and Amanda, fearing Devin would say something that would ruin her plan, leaned up on her toes and kissed Devin soundly on the mouth.

Devin didn’t kiss her back. His hands moved, but not into an embrace as she hoped, instead strong fingers wrapped around each of her shoulders in a vice grip. He started to push her away. She would be damned if she let him mess this up. She leaned in and wrapped both arms around his neck and locked her fingers together. He was not ruining this. It was the only way to convince Allen there was someone else. She deepened the kiss, moving her tongue against his lips.

Suddenly those strong fingers moved into her hair, pulling her body closer into his. There was no longer anything gentle about the kiss. It was hot, deep and made every muscle in her body tingle.

“I said, ‘enough!” Allen shouted across the room.

Devin let go of Amanda and she rocked back on her feet, an expression of confusion on her face, her eyes blinking, and her brain still fuzzy with passion.

Allen got up from the couch and made his way to the door. He opened it but paused just inside the doorway. “I don’t believe for a second that the two of you are a couple. But even if you are, I’m going to win you back Amanda. I’m not leaving Hawaii until I convince you that we are good together. That we are meant for each other.” Not waiting for a reply Allen turned and walked out the door, shutting it gently behind him.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?” Devin ran his hand through his wet hair.

Amanda opened her mouth and started to say something but he put up his hand and motioned her to stop.

“Wait, I’m not dressed and I’m in desperate need of a drink. Why don’t you go see if there is any alcohol in the kitchen while I go change.” When she didn’t’ move he walked over and gave her a push towards the kitchen. “Go on, Amanda, there must be wine, beer or something in there.”

Amanda found a bottle of red wine and poured herself a glass. She sat at the kitchen table, sipping her wine and trying to figure out how she was going to con Devin into agreeing with her plan.

A few minutes later Devin appeared barefoot, wearing blue jeans, and a white t-shirt. He grabbed a glass from the counter and joined Amanda at the table. He poured himself a generous amount of wine.

“Is that why you skipped town, you and Allen are in some kind of fight.”

“Yes, sort of, well, damnit Devin stop asking me questions, this isn’t one of your interrogations.” He took a couple of sips of wine and studied her across the table. Amanda emptied her glass. “My relationship with Allen is over, done, finite.”

“The engagement has been called off.”

Amanda nodded her head up and down as she poured herself another glass of wine, “Yes, the engagement is over, the only reason we became engaged to begin with is because he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Aren’t you in love with the guy?

Amanda finished off her drink and grabbed for the bottle of wine. She poured herself another full glass. “No!” She took one big gulp of wine before continuing, “You have to understand. After that summer, when I left for college, Allen and I were thrown together on and off for four years at college. Our families have known each other for years. My mom and his mom were college roommates. It just seemed naturally after we graduated that we would start dating exclusively.”

When Devin didn’t say anything she continued, “I admit it, I was hurt that when you didn’t want me. I had been in love with you since I was sixteen years old, since the first day you came to work for my dad. And then at after years of adoring you, when I’m finally grown up enough, I throw myself on you.” When he started to say something, she put up her hand to stop him. “You were right it could never have worked out, I was nineteen, young and foolish, you were twenty-seven and worked for my father. Of course it was just a silly school- girl crush. Not like my relationship with Allen. Allen and I used to get along, we use to have fun. But he has really changed in the last year. He has become demanding, rigid. I can’t explain it. He is different.” Amanda looked down at her now empty glass. “Do you think there is another bottle of wine?”

“Probably,” Devin said as he got up from the table and started searching through the cupboards. “How do you feel about white?” He asked as he held up a bottle of white wine he found in the fridge.

“Perfect.” Amanda held out her glass.

Devin poured her half a glass and Amanda looked at the glass and raised her eyebrows at him. “More.”

“Amanda I don’t think your much of a drinker.”

“Who are you, my mother? Come on fill her up.” She slurred slightly as he reluctantly topped off her glass. She drank it all down in one gulp. “I’ve been trying to break it off, but he won’t listen, he won’t go away. He keeps showing up and trying to get me to go back to him.”

Devin watched her as she started to tilt slightly in her chair. He reached across the table and grabbed her shirt, and pushed her back against her chair. “Amanda you’re getting tipsy.”

“Nope, am not. That’s why I need your help.” She leaned across the table and grabbed his arm.

“I don’t understand, need my help for what?”

“Getting rid of Allen. You have to stay and be my new boyfriend.”

Devin pushed his chair away from the table and stood up, “No way. I am not getting in the middle of this. If you want to break it off with him then you do it all by yourself.”

“I’ve tried. He won’t listen. Devin I need you. Need your help.” Amanda said as she started to yawn. She put her arms on the table and then rested her head on her arms. “But I don’t want to go out with him anymore. He’s mean, and I hate his cologne. He doesn’t like dogs and he wants to name our kids Chelsey. He won’t leave me alone,” She yawned again and closed her eyes, “and besides he slept with Christine.”

“He slept with your best friend Christine?”

Amanda eyes were closed and her voice was getting softer, “Yep he did, he slept with her, I saw them together. And then all those phone calls, the threats. I don’t want to think it’s him. It couldn’t be him. Why would he try to run me over? But if it is, if he is really crazed I need to stay away from…” and before she could finish her sentence she was asleep.

Devin looked down at Amanda. She was sound asleep. He walked over and gently picked her up and carried her out of the kitchen, down the hallway and into her bedroom where he placed her on the bed and covered her with a blanket.

Devin stood with his arms crossed, scowling down at Amanda’s bed watching her as she slept. What did she mean threats and who the hell had tried to run her over? There was no way Devin was leaving until he got some answers. He leaned over and tucked the covers around her body. Then he walked into the living room, made sure the windows where locked and pushed a chair under the main door handle. He grabbed his gun out of his duffel bag, loaded it, placing it on the coffee table before he went to sleep on the couch.

* * *

Amanda woke up and felt as though her head was going to explode. She couldn’t seem to get her eyes to open. She tried sitting up and immediately regretted the decision. The motion set her stomach into flip-flops. Her head throbbed and her tongue felt like it was covered in shag carpet. “My god, I have been poisoned,” she moaned.

“Good, you’re up.” Devin walked in and handed her a mug of hot coffee. “It’s about time. I was starting to think you would be comatose all day.”

“What time is it?” Amanda asked as she gently tried to pry her eyes open.

“It’s two o’clock.”

“In the afternoon?” Amanda moaned as managed to get one of her eyes open. “Why is it so bright in here?”

Devin walked over and opened up the curtains. Light streamed in the room and Amanda quickly dived under the covers.

“Are you trying to kill me?” She asked from under the blankets.

“You’ll live, what you need is a nice cold shower and a gallon of coffee.” He grabbed one end of her covers and tried to pull them off the bed, but Amanda wasn’t given in easily, she grabbed onto the other end of the blanket as though her life depended on it.

She didn’t want to get up. Not the way she felt at the moment. What she needed was another couple hours of sleep.

“Man you are stronger than you look,” Devin laughed as he bunched his muscles and yanked the covers clean off the bed. He did feel sorry for her, she looked terrible, her hair was sticking up in all directions, all she could do was squint and her completion looked slightly green. “Come on I’ll help you get into the shower.”

“Go away, I’m not an invalid,” She moaned at him from the middle of the bed.

“No, but you look like one.” He reach over and effortless picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. He gently set her down and reached over and turned on the shower. “Do you need help getting undressed?” he asked smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“No, I think I can manage.” She gave him a hard shove out the bathroom door.

“Ok, I can take a hint. Do you feel like eating anything? I can whip up some scrambled eggs.”

The thought of food made her nauseous. “No food. Just coffee, lots of coffee.” She shut the door and started to remove her clothes. She paused and looked in the mirror. She looked awful. Not only had Devin witnessed her drunk last night, this morning he had to see her looking her worst. She took off the rest of her clothes and climbed into the shower. She was not prepared for the temperature of the water. Devin had turned the water onto the coolest setting and she almost let out a scream as the water hit her body. But after a couple of minutes the cold water felt good. She stayed in the shower as long as she could stand it.

When she came out, wrapped in a towel, she found Devin leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Here, I’ve more when you finish this.”

She gratefully took the coffee and gulped it down. Devin was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, laughing at her. “How do you feel after the shower Amanda?”

“A little better. But my head still feels like it weighs 50 pounds.” She started walking into her bedroom but stopped suddenly. She turned and walked over to him. “Hey, since when do you call me Amanda? It’s always been Baker or squirt?”

He grabbed her and pulled her to him.

He knew it was a mistake. He tried to keep himself from reaching out to her, but as he stood in the hallway and watched her standing there, her smooth skin glistening with water, the towel hugging her curves, exposing the curve of her breast his brain went slightly hairwire. He could no longer control the desire to touch her, to hold her. He reached out and took her in his arms.

Amanda was too surprised to resist. Before she could say anything he kissed her. It was a soft, gentle kiss. His warm lips pressed against hers.

God it felt so good. Somewhere deep down, a tiny voice was telling her she was crazy, she had to stop before this went too far. But she pushed the voice aside and returned his kiss. The coffee cup dropped unnoticed to the floor as her arms came up and wrapped around his neck. As she responded to him, his kiss grew deeper, more urgent.

He suddenly took his lips away from hers and Amanda moaned in protest. He brushed his lips across her cheek until his lips were on her ear. Devin started kissing her neck, and then her bare shoulder. And then somewhere in the very back of her mind she realized she was only wearing a towel and that in a few moments, if they kept going, he would be unwrapping the towel and then he would carry her to the bedroom and they would make love. And that would be a huge mistake, because this was Devin, the man that had broken her heart all those years ago. It had taken her forever to get over him.

She tried to hold on to that thought as he gently bit her naked shoulder, tried to think rational and practical through the haze of passion she was feeling. She started pushing him away, starting turning her mouth away from his as he began kissing her again. “No, Devin. Wait we can’t do this.”

Devin tried to recapture her mouth with his, tried pulling her closer into him.
She shoved him away from her in desperation, “Devin stop it!”

“What’s wrong?” Devin stood only inches from her, trying to control the urge to grab her back into his arms.

“We can’t do this?” Amanda took a couple steps backwards, trying to put some physical distance between them. She could still feel the touch of his lips on her shoulders.

“Why the hell not?”

Because you broke my heart once, and I don’t think I could take it again she wanted to cry out. This was all too much, she had dreamed of Devin taking her in his arms and making love to her again, but that was she had been naïve enough to think she could change his Casanova nature.

He was affairs were notorious– flings and affairs that only last weeks or months before he would move on to another blonde, brunette or redhead. The only thing that Devin’s woman had in common is that they were all drop dead gorgeous and they were all disposable.

It was a hopeless situation, Devin was never serious about any woman, and there was no way Amanda, in any scenario could imagine, Devin becoming serious about her. Devin might not have changed much over the years, but she had. She had learned the hard way that you don’t always get what you want.
She took a deep breath and tried to quiet her pounding heart. “I can’t. I won’t do this again. I know what you are like.”

Devin was starting to get mad. His blue eyes were filling with anger as he took a step towards her. “Explain it to me, how am I?”

Amanda had never seen Devin lose his temper. He was known as the calm patient one, she was the one with the temper. But now he looked angry and dangerous. Her throat suddenly seemed dry as she tried to get her point across. “You’re a Casanova, a man incapable of staying with one woman. I’m no longer a young foolish girl who is looking for one night of passion in your arms. I’m not the type of woman who has casual flings.”

“Oh, I see. I’m more the one night stand guy. Not the type of boyfriend material you would be looking for?”

“I go out with guys that are more serious about relationship, guys that are willing to commit.”

“Like Allen.”

“Allen was not scared of commitment.”

“No he wasn’t, you were the one back pedaling in the relationship.”

“That’s not fair, he cheated on me.”

“And if he hadn’t would you be walking down he aisle with him?”

“I don’t know.”

Devin turned around and headed for the living room.

“Where are you going?”
He grabbed his jacket and duffle back. “Out!”

She didn’t want him to leave, but she didn’t know what to say. “Are you coming back?”

Devin stopped at the door, but didn’t turn around. “I don’t know.” He slammed the door shut on his way out.

If you missed any you can read it at - http://www.samanthastorm.com/freereads.html

Come back next Sunday for next installment…

Samantha Storm - http://www.samanthastorm.com/
Free Read in progress- Heart’s Paradise, new installments every Sunday
Eye of the Storm - Available Now! http://www.newconceptspublishing.com/eyeofthestorm.htm
Murder, Mayhem & Mistletoe - coming Dec. ‘06 NCP

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Wonderful news for two of the butterscotch martini girls…
 

Last year at this time of year, Amber Quill authors were discovering the results of the 2006 Eppie contest.  I didn’t have a clue what an EPPIE was.  However, from the buzz it created on the loops…I figured it must be a good thing. 
 

Now I’m a member of the elite Eppie group along with Tina. Together we finalled with
Knights of the Magical Realm: Warriors Gone Wild by Tina Gerow, Linda Wisdom, Dakota Cassidy, Brit Blaise, from Triskelion Publishing:
 

I also finalled with another wonderful anthology, but in the same category—Erotic  Romance Fantasy/Paranormal:
 

From Amber Quill:
Potions, Elixirs, and Brews…Oh, My! by Lacey Savage, Cassandra Curtis,
Caitlyn Willows, Adrianna Dane, and Brit Blaise - 

 What wonderful news!

Brit

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Every mother has this thing inside that makes her want to be a good one.  Some win…some lose…some get rained out.  Well, this is a story about the time I got rained out. 
 

I was a single mother from the time my son was four months old and, like most single mothers, I carried a lot of guilt and tried everything I could think of to make it up to my son.  I bought a truck with a camper and I took him camping and fishing and target practicing (yes, with a gun).  I didn’t want him to miss out on anything just because he didn’t have a father figure living in the house with him.  If I didn’t know how to do it, I got a book from the library or asked a friend or co-worker.  I was determined to be the best mother I could be…to stretch myself out of my comfort zone because I loved my child and wanted the best for him…and this is where things started to go wrong…horribly, horribly wrong.
 

Christmas was coming.  My son was nine years old.  He had only one thing on his Christmas list…a snake.  A live, tongue flicking, slithering snake.  One problem…I’m terrified of snakes.  I tried my damnedest to get him to pick something else, but he wouldn’t be distracted.  He pleaded, he begged, he said he’d settle for only one present under the tree.  All he wanted was a snake.  He’d like a really big one – three or four feet long, but he’d settle for a small one if I’d just please, please, please get him a snake.
 

Well, I did what any self-respecting single mother would do.  I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and went shopping for a snake.  It would be good for me…make me stretch…help me get over my fear of snakes.  Or it would kill me, which was probably the most likely outcome.  But I loved my son, so I shopped. 
 

I went to a dozen pet stores and every snake I saw scared me.  I’d tap on the glass and the snake would strike it from the inside.  The hair would raise up on my arms, I’d squeak and jump back and when I could breathe again, I’d move on to the next aquarium or the next pet shop.  I wanted a tame snake.  I asked every pet store clerk I encountered if they had a really, really lazy snake that didn’t bite and didn’t eat anything live.  I love my son, but I had to draw the line at feeding bunnies or mice or anything cuter than me to a snake.  I almost gave up when one clerk told me all snakes bite.  But I told myself he was just being dramatic and I moved to the next pet shop.
 

Finally, when I’d just about given up, I found the perfect snake at a pet shop that shall remain nameless.  The clerk said it was an Iridescent Earth Snake.  It was a beautiful snake – about three feet long and a little over an inch in diameter with a dark burgundy back and a light cream colored belly.  It was totally docile…never batted an eyelid when I tapped on the glass.  The clerk assured me it was the laziest snake he’d ever seen and the best part…it eats earthworms.  Woooo woooo…I was going to be the best mom in the world!  Oh, and by the way, it was on sale for $25…which probably should have told me something.  But who doesn’t like to get a deal?  All the other snakes I’d seen that size were over $100 and to a single mother, that’s a huge difference.  So by the time I’d purchased the snake, the aquarium, the lid (gotta have a lid), the hot rock, the no-tip bowl, and the bedding, that $25 snake had cost me about $150.  The clerk agreed to hold the snake so I didn’t have to worry about how to hide him from my son.
 

So…here it is, the day before Christmas Eve.  My son has gone to his father’s house for the pre-Christmas celebration and will be home late Christmas Eve night.  I drive to the pet shop, sweating like a whore in church, terrified of driving home alone in a car with a snake, but still determined to be that “Best Mom Ever”. 
 

I enter the pet shop and the same clerk is working.  He recognizes me and waves.  “Hi.  Come for your snake?” 
 

I almost bolted.  All I can do is nod while he fishes the snake out of the aquarium and carries it into the back room to put him in a box.  Now, remember, this snake is easily three foot long…it’s a good size snake.  This guy comes back with a box that’s maybe 10”x10”x8” and holds it out to me.  “Here’s your snake.  I’ve got the other stuff all ready here behind the counter.”
 

All I can do is stare at that itty bitty box.  I’m starting to hyperventilate.  I can’t make myself reach for the box.  I look at the clerk and ask, “That’s an awful small box.  Is he gonna be pissed when he comes out of there?”
 

He laughs.  “Nah.  He likes it in there.”
 

Yeah…I’ll just bet he does.  Now I’m starting to shake.  What the hell was I thinking?  I get a grip on myself, take a few deep breaths, pay the man, and follow him to the car as he carries my equipment (and the snake in the box) to the car.  So far, so good.
 

The drive home is harrowing.  I can hardly focus on the road because I’m staring at the box, worried the snake will pop the folded lid open and get loose in the car.  Then I begin to worry that I’ll get in an accident and be knocked unconscious while the snake slithers free and curls up in my hair.  OhmiGod, what if no one finds me right away and I’m not knocked unconscious, but I can’t move and all I can do is watch that snake crawl across my face!  Made it home that day in record time.  So far, so good.
 

At home, I leave the snake in the car for a few minutes while I go in the house and sit on the couch until the shaking subsides.  Finally, I muster up the courage to go back out and bring the aquarium into the house and set it up.  Then I sit on the couch again because I need the rest by now.  I can stall no longer…it’s time to face my demon…and he’s in the car in a ten inch box…all thirty six inches of him.  I take a deep breath, say a prayer for strength, and off I go.  I’m back in fifteen seconds carrying the box like it was filled with limburger cheese.  Now, this is where the wheels really come off.
 

I set the box in the middle of the family room, on the floor, where I’ve got plenty of room to get away from the snake, should he come out of the box pissed off about having to travel in coach.  You might ask at this point what I was thinking…why not just put the box in the aquarium when I open it?  Oh, silly you.  The blood had stopped flowing to my brain.  The synapses were no longer firing.  I was totally short-circuited by fear and the only thing dragging me forward was the lust for my “good mother” merit badge.
 

I edge away from the box, shaking like an oak leaf in a hurricane, hyperventilating, my head spinning, and I reach waaaaaay out with one finger and flip the lid open.  Then I jump back, dancing in place, flapping my hands up and down in front of me, and whining like a five year old girl that’s just found a tarantula in her porridge.  I’m literally about to run screaming from the house when suddenly a drop of blood seems to reach my brain and I realize I’ve just opened a box in the middle of my family room and a three foot snake is about to emerge…now I will have to catch him…and there’s still a chance he’s going to be madder than a rooster under a bucket.  OhmiGod, I’m too stupid to live!
 

So I wait.
 

But nothing happens…no snake, no hissing, no slithering, no tongue flicking…nothing.  Did the guy really put the snake in the box?  Maybe he just weighed it down and when I go back and claim there wasn’t a snake in the box, he just laughs.  Oh no, I’ve been taken!  So I walk over to the box, fully expecting to see it stuffed with something heavy.  It is…the snake.  He’s not moving.  Oh no, he’s dead.  I’ve had the snake less than an hour and already I’ve killed him!  So I poke him.  He slithers.  I scream.  He jumps.  I jump.  Now I’ve not only pissed him off, I’ve scared him, too.  He’s gonna be real fond of having me around.
 

I wait again.
 

Nothing.  So I screw up my courage and go back to the box.  I look inside and find him still in the same pretzel-like position, staring back at me.  Another deep breath.  (Yes, Isabella, I know I’m breathing a lot and, trust me, it was necessary this time.)  I look him over real good while he waits to see what hair-brained thing I’m going to try next.  I find his head, then I find his tail, then I calculate the spot that’s just about half-way between the two.  That’s where I’m going to grab him.  Because everyone knows the best place to grab a snake is far, far away from his head.  (NOT)  With dreams of my merit badge floating in my head, I slowly reach into the box, take hold of the snake in the middle of his body, and start to pull him out of the box.  Not a problem.  He’s very cooperative and comes out nicely…maybe we’re gonna get along, after all…maybe he doesn’t hold a grudge.
 

Then the damn thing starts to move from both ends, bending back toward me, trying to sniff me out.  EEEK!!!  I look up and realize now that I’ve opened the box a good ten feet away from the aquarium.  What was I thinking!  I bolt for the aquarium, but wind up following this incredible, invisible zigzag path as I jump and squeal, and try to keep the snake from getting his head too close to me, my arm, or my hand.  Thank God, I was alone and there are no pictures!
 

Finally, I’m at the aquarium and my nightmare is almost over…not.  Ever tried to hold a three foot snake in the middle and stuff him down into an aquarium that’s easily a foot shorter than he is?  Not easy.  Suddenly, he won’t bend in the middle.  He’s board straight and both ends are clamped onto the sides of the aquarium and all I can think is, How the hell did that clerk get this damned snake into that ten inch box?
 

Well, I did finally get the snake into the aquarium, got the lid on it, and fell backwards onto my butt panting like I’d just run a thirty mile marathon.  I was gonna get that merit badge…it was mine, baby!  I spent about ten minutes shaking on the couch when I finally decided I needed a beer to calm my nerves.  I didn’t have to work the next day, so it was time to let my hair down and relax…I’d earned it.  So off I went around the corner to my favorite neighborhood bar, where I managed to get rather inebriated.
 

I arrived back at home shortly after last call and I was about three sheets to the wind and feeling cocky.  I walked in and checked on my new acquisition…the snake…and felt damned proud of what I’d accomplished.  Piece of cake.  (Things always look easier with a snoot full.)  So off to bed I went.
 

Sometime during the night, I awoke to the most horrible racket imaginable.  The dogs were barking and snarling at the back door, the cat was yowling somewhere in the house, and the guinea pig sounded like a smoke alarm.  It was incredible waking up to this from a dead, drunk sleep.  I couldn’t get my bearings, but I knew I had to make it stop.  So I dragged myself out of bed, stumbled to the light switch, and emerged from my cave like a growling bear, screaming at everyone to shut up.
 

I found the cat standing at a point in the doorway to the laundry room, puffed up to twice her size, growling and hissing like a tiger.  The guinea pig, who lived in a cage on top of the dryer, was squealing and jumping straight up and down in his cage.  I remember staring at him and wondering if it hurt every time he hit his little head on the top of the cage, which he did with every jump.   I hooked the cat with my foot and forced her to the side of the doorway, yelling for her to shut up.  Then I slammed my hand down on the top of the guinea pig’s cage as I screamed, “You shut up, too!”
 

The cat backed off and just growled quietly low in her throat.  The guinea pig stopped jumping and squealing as he sat panting and shaking in the bottom of his cage.  I’m still in a stupor and can’t figure out what’s happening, but I’m thankful that the worst of the noises had finally stopped.  I make my way to the arcadia door and slide it open a couple of inches as I yell at the dogs to get off the door and shut up.  Finally…it’s quiet.
 

I close my eyes and start back to bed, wondering what the hell their problem was.  Just as my head hits the pillow, the thought crosses my mind.  Jeez, they act like the snake got loose or something. 
 

Oh, Crap!
 

I bolt upright, but I’m afraid to get out of bed.  If the snake is loose, I might step on him in the dark.  So I stand up and walk the length of my waterbed (on the mattress), which is not easy to do when you’ve been drinking.  Then I reach out with one foot and brace myself against the dresser as I reach waaaaaay over and flip on the light.  Just as the light comes on, the cat and the guinea pig start up again.  I search the floor…no snake.  So I head for the laundry room again.  There’s the cat, still standing sentry at the door and the poor guinea pig is about to decapitate himself on the top of the cage.
 

I push the cat out of the way and bang on the guinea pig’s cage again and the silence descends again.  Then I screw up the courage to look behind the washer, which seems to be where everyone else is looking…and there he is.  Curled up in a nice, tight ball behind the washer and staring back at me.  Mr. Snake.
 

I turn to look at the aquarium and see that he’s apparently wrapped himself around the electrical cord to the hot rock and pulled, which then popped the lid up at one corner, thereby perpetrating the great escape.  I judge the distance from the washer to the aquarium to be about twenty five feet…a long way to run with a three foot snake when you’ve been drinking.  But the good news is that the alcohol did make me a bit bolder so it didn’t take as long to find the middle of the snake this time.  No, I didn’t learn the first time.  I never learn when I’m terrified…I just react.  So, yes, I did repeat the error of my ways.  Picked him up in the middle, zig-zagged the twenty five feet while I tried to avoid his head, and spent five minutes trying to stuff a three foot snake into a two foot aquarium.  But I did it.  I’d survived it twice!
 

Christmas Eve came and my boy came home from his dad’s.  The first thing he saw on entering the house was the aquarium and his new pet.  He pounced on it immediately, declaring it was the best present ever and the best snake ever.  My merit badge was as good as in the mail.
 

Now, you might think that was the end of the snake story, but you’d be wrong…terribly, terribly wrong.  Yes, there’s more.  Remember when I said this was the greatest snake ever because he ate earthworms?  Yeah.
 

Well, over the next week, I kept putting earthworms in the cage with the snake, who exhibited absolutely no interest.  I dropped them on his head, I dangled them in front of his eyes, I stroked the side of his face with them.  I even got so desperate that I started swimming them in his water bowl…who knew earthworms can’t swim?  By the end of the week, the entire carton of earthworms had expired and the snake was still hungry.
 

So I called the pet store back.  Got the same clerk.  I explained who I was and was happy to hear he remembered me, but when I explained my dilemma, his response had me frozen in my tracks.  His sage advice was, “Oh, no problem.  Just pry his mouth open and stuff them in.”
 

“Are you freaking kidding me?”  I screamed into the phone.  “I am not sticking my fingers into this snake’s mouth!”
 

His reply?  Priceless.  “Don’t worry.  He won’t bite.  He didn’t bite me when I did it.”
 

Uh-oh.  I’m starting to get the feeling I’ve been had.  I lower my voice, which is starting to get shaky now.  “What do you mean…when you did it?  Are you telling me this snake won’t eat on his own?  Are you saying earthworms aren’t his natural diet?”
 

“I don’t know,” was his reply.  “The boss just said to feed him earthworms.  But he does fine on ‘em.  Just shove ‘em down.”
 

As I tumbled right over the edge of sanity, I managed to squeak out, “You are out of your f$%#ing mind,” and I slammed the phone down.  Now what?
 

I picked up the phone and called another pet store to see if they knew what an Iridescent Earthworm ate.  It was at that point that it initially occurred to me that to have an Iridescent Earthworm who ate earthworms might be considered cannibalism.  Maybe it was just a tad too convenient.  Yeah.
 

I went through three or four pet shops who had never heard of an Iridescent Earthworm before I found one who referred me to a pet shop that was owned by the president of the local Herpetology Society.  So I called him and was relieved when he answered the phone himself.  But my joy quickly turned to panic when I told him what I had and asked if he knew what it was supposed to eat.
 

He chuckled and named the pet shop where I’d purchased the snake, asking if that’s where I’d got it.   My stomach turned over as I replied that I had purchased the snake in that shop.  He chuckled again. 
 

“Ya know,” he began, “I saw the ad in the paper for that thing and I drove over there just to see exactly what it was they had.  It’s actually called an Iridescent Earth Snake, not Earthworm.”
 

That didn’t seem so bad.  “Okay.  No problem.  But do you know what it eats?”
 

“What have you been feeding it?”
 

“Nothing.  They told me to feed it earthworms, but it won’t eat them.  When I called them back, they said to open his mouth and stuff them down.  I can’t.”  This last statement came out in a high-pitched squeak.
 

He roared.  I’d been had…no doubt about it now.  “That snake doesn’t eat earthworms.”
 

“Okay.  What am I supposed to be feeding it?  Mice?  Rabbits? ”  It was surprising at how quickly my tune had changed.  I now found myself hoping I could maybe get off so easily as to just feed it a cute little mouse or maybe a little rabbit.
 

“Nope.”  He then paused…possibly for effect.  “It actually eats other snakes.”
 

“What?”  I hadn’t heard him.  I couldn’t have heard that right.
 

“Other snakes.  It eats other snakes.  You need to buy yourself some small snakes and just throw them in with him.”
 

I could hardly believe my ears.  I couldn’t contend with one snake…now I was expected to buy more…and feed them to this cannibalistic little demon!  I was too stunned to move.  “Are you sure?  Can’t I just feed him a mouse?”  Now I was pleading with him to tell me I could “off” a poor little mouse to feed this monster. 
 

“Don’t think so.  You might try it, but there’s slim chance it’ll work.”
 

“Okay…I can try.  Maybe it will.”  Hope was clutching me by the throat.
 

“But you’ll have to feed him at night.”
 

“What?”
 

“At night.  You’ll have to feed him at night.  That snake’s nocturnal.  He sleeps during the day and feeds at night.”
 

“Of course he is!”  I calmly thanked the man, hung up the phone, and shrieked my lungs out.  It was official…my worst nightmare had come to life.
 

The next day, I was off to the closest pet store, where I asked the clerk for the ugliest little mouse they had.  No such luck.  When you don’t need a mouse, there are always plenty of ugly, scruffy ones plaguing the barn or the grain room or being chased by the neighbor’s cat.  But when you need an ugly mouse, all the pet store has is cute little black and white spotted mice…with smiles on their little mouse faces.
 

So I reluctantly took the ugliest one I could find, carried him home in a box, and put him in the cage with the snake – who promptly buried his head in the bedding and refused to come out and take a look.  Over the next couple of weeks, I tried dozens of times to feed that damn mouse to that stupid snake.  I dropped the mouse on his head…thumped him on the top of the head with the mouse…I even took the mouse swimming in the little water bowl.  At one point, the snake was so irritated with all the shenanigans that he snapped at the mouse and accidentally bit his tail off.  But, alas, even that little morsel he refused to eat.
 

I tried to feed the snake at midnight, at one o’clock in the morning, at two, at three, and even at four.  No go.  I couldn’t leave the mouse in the cage with the snake because while the snake hid, the mouse chewed on the snake.  So I got up all hours of the night and tried over and over.  It was like having a newborn in the house.
 

By now, my son was totally in love with this damn snake and I couldn’t bear to break his heart by taking it back to the store.  About the third week into this nightmare, I’d come to the conclusion that I was going to have to give in and buy another snake.  But before I could actually procure one, I came home from work one night to find the poor snake dead.  It had only been three weeks and I’d been assured snakes could go a month or more between meals without harm.  How had I killed him so quickly?  I later found out that by feeding him earthworms, the original pet store had not provided him with the proper nutrition.  So he was probably already in a weakened state when I brought him home.
 

Well, that’s the snake story…sad but true.  Oh, what happened to the mouse, you ask?  Well, the mouse lived for probably another year or so.  We named him Clinger – my suggestion as the perfect name for a mouse that we couldn’t get rid of.  My son carried the name a little further when he began to make little cotton dresses for the mouse.  I caught him one night loading the little mouse (in a particularly cute pink dress) into a hot wheels car and sailing him across the floor.  Not sure the mouse really enjoyed that ride, but he looked like he was gripping the little steering wheel for all he was worth.
 

Never did get that damn merit badge…but it wasn’t for lack of trying.  That’s my story…and I’m sticking to it.
 

Love,
 

Kayce Lassiter 
 
 

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I was feeling fairly rotten about not going to Vegas this weekend to sign Knights of the Magical Realm: Warriors Gone Wild.  Now, I’m glad I listened to my intuition and didn’t go.  Tiffany is the hospital again. http://www.naturemoms.com/blog/2006/12/17/another-hospitalization/#comments
 

This has been a strange week.  First, I heard from Avalon, and hooray…everything is proceeding on schedule and why not…I’m not involved at the moment.  Then I hear from Triskelion…they really like the story I sent and will be sending me a contract…more good news.  And the editor wants more!
 

Up and down!  Highs and lows!  I’d trade the highs, if the lows went away.
 

I’ve been reading my grandmother’s diaries…from 1948-on. Actually, she’s my cousin, Deb’s grandmother, but I didn’t know that…she was mine!  Grandma Malcolm had highs and lows.  Days when no one came to visit, when there weren’t extra people gathered for her to feed and fuss over. Those days, she always said she was blue.  She had those days more often in the Ohio winters.  They didn’t call it depression back then…just feeling blue.
 

I loved going to Grandma Malcolm’s.  As a baby, I lived on the next farm, within walking distance, with Mamma Mary and Daddy Jim. (Deb’s parents) You can tell by the names, I adopted them.  At age 1 ½, I ran away from home three times in one day and went to Grandma’s.  They finally gave up and allowed me to stay.
 

Often when Grandma referred to me in her diary, she called me a pill.  Imagine that!
 

I’m having one of those days Grandma had now and then… Color me blue…

Wild and Wanton – eBook, available now Amber Quill Press                           Brit’s Lip Service – available now Amber Quill Press                                  

Knights of Magical Realm: Warriors Gone Wild – available now Triskelion Publishing
 ((¸¸.·´.·´ Brit Blaise -:¦:-

http://britblaise.com/blog/?p=32
 

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