The old rustic lodge had at least an inch of dust coating every barren surface like no one had entered the place since the old priest had passed. It was completely surrounded with wooded vegetation that seemed quite ominous in the gathering storm. The black clouds blocked out moon and stars. Although no rain had fallen as of yet, the lightening and thunder bickered in the distance. The roof sloped gently, heavily laden with pine needles and the porch offered an ancient rocking chair that creaked its weathered age. The interior of the home was completely done over in solid stained wood paneling with high ceilings and rafters which sported a ceiling fan as the only air conditioning available. The cobblestone fireplace yawned darkly from a corner of the living room area. Empty bookshelves lines the walls. Stairs led up one side of the room towards what looked like a loft. The woman surveyed her new home without enthusiasm. Indeed her spirit was heavy, so it was difficult to muster any emotion although the young man from the village who’d helped her up the mountain was doing his very best to be entertaining. He prattled away with local politics and gossip, the history of the house and its previous owner, so on and so forth. She only half-listened and internally became aware of a deepening wish for this young buck to be gone and leave her to the solace of the mountains silence. “If you follow the trail out the back door, it’ll lead you to the lake. There’s good fishing to be had if you get up early enough. The bed is upstairs, though you’ll probably want to have the ropes tightened. They’re sagging something fierce at the moment.” The young man good-naturedly pointed out. She nodded once, smiling softly in reply, “My own bed will be arriving with my things by train in a few days.” The young man put her bags down by the stairs and went out another door, returning a few minutes more with some logs for the fireplace. “I’ll just get this started for you so you can settle in. I don’t imagine you’ll get much done tonight else wise.” She nodded her gratitude to him and glided over quietly to stare out the bay window overlooking the valley. “You’ll want to stick to the house mostly during the evening. The wolves can get pretty rambunctious this time of year.” He continued. “Oh, and you’ll want to get a dust mop to the corners up there pretty soon. You don’t have to worry about too many snakes up here, but black widow and brown recluse spiders can be pretty pesky little buggers. It takes time to get medical attention up here too, so you might want to keep a medical kit handy.” She slightly raised an eyebrow that this young man in his eagerness to please was insulting her survival abilities, however she allowed him to continue since it pleased him to do so. When the fire was lit, the young man turned and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “Well, if there’s anything further you need, just come on down to the village store. You’ll find me there. She nodded again silently, “Thank you, Luke. You have been very kind and I am grateful.” He took a step toward the woman. She looked so small and vulnerable, so sad that his heart broke. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright up here all by yourself?” he asked concerned. “I could…” the shake of her head stopped his words mid-sentence along with his stride. In the shadows of the darkened room he couldn’t be quite certain, but it seemed that the part of her face which she kept hid under her hair was not quite right. He moistened his lips as if to speak, but thought better of it. “Well…ok then…if you’re sure. I’ll just get going and let you get some sleep. You must be exhausted. Like I said though, if you need anything…” She turned over her shoulder, but he still couldn’t make out the one side of her face, “I’ll be sure to let you know, Luke. Thank you again, and good night.” The young man touched his hat, his smile a trifle chagrined, before he strode out closing the door carefully behind him. She watched the big, black truck barrel out of the driveway and heaved a sigh of relief. At last. ********************************************************************** “And this is our new Viking collection. I think they turned out really nice and should grace the front of some of you ladies stories admirably. Yes, sir…they will really sell those books for you.” John stood at the front of the conference room, flipping through pages of the Power-Point presentation. Each slide was a painting of his well- defined physique in different poses and with differing Viking apparel… or lack thereof. Every last one was dripping in sex appeal. ‘Oh yeah, John. That’s all the women of the world buy romance novels for…the cover art.’ I thought to myself grumpily. I hated sitting in these “admire me” meetings. Even I had to grudgingly admit that John’s body was something to look at, especially up close and personal. He stood up there in a fitted knit black sweater shirt and grey slacks with cowboy boots pointing out from the bottom. His black hair was slicked back in Euro-trash style. He even managed to flash his Listerine minty-fresh smile as every picture made its way into the presentation to the point where I was almost physically nauseous. Actually, the only real problem with John was that he KNEW he was devastatingly gorgeous and exploited that fact for all it was worth…consistently. My teeth throbbed in pain just thinking about all the naïve little girls who had been coerced into his bed by that brilliant smile, thinking it actually meant something. Perhaps they even dreamed that out of all the millions of adoring fans drooling over his body, that they just might be the one woman who he, the cover model of their favorite romantic fantasy book, would think of them as his one and only. Gag me! I opted to slide down in my chair, rest my head against the back, and close my eyes so I wouldn’t have to participate in the male ego onslaught any further. My fingers absently drummed the cherry conference table while I resisted the urge to bolt from the room shrieking obscenities. I used to rest my feet up there and take naps, but it was recently pointed out that such behavior in the corporate office was “unprofessional” and we would be expected to conduct ourselves in a more professional manner from then on. They had tried to enforce a dress code as well, but most of the top writers made it known very quickly that such a code was over the top and would not be tolerated. Ain’t democracy grand?…not to mention a threat on a large portion of the company’s income couldn’t hurt when trying to make a point. This exquisite form of torture, courtesy of PassionQuest International, lasted another 20 minutes before the stampede to the ladies room to “freshen up” commenced. I watched the mass exodus with pessimistic amusement, not in any hurry to get trampled underfoot. John sauntered over and took a cushioned executive chair next to me, beaming. “Well, Callie-girl,” I hated that nickname, “What do you think? Another season of my obnoxious success streak is on the horizon, eh? Yeah, I got em eating out of my hand.” I snorted in response, “I am just SO overwhelmed by your modesty, John. No credit for the artist at all. It’s all you.” Do you believe his teeth had high beams too? I had to blink at the intensity. “Well, Michael has something to do with it, sure. But after all, he has awesome material to work with. How could he go wrong?” Thank God Corral never had to work with him. I’d never hear the end of it…from either end. He leaned back, stretching his legs out straight in front of him and crossing his arms behind his head in smug satisfaction. I have to admit, at that moment I failed the feminist movement everywhere. His self-assured arrogance was so funny I had to laugh. It just came out. It was unstoppable. Honest. “John, you are without a doubt the epitome example of why it is the romance genre of fiction will ALWAYS be successful.” I fixed him with my cheshire grin daring him to ask me to continue. He gloated in my praise for only a moment before he realized that it wasn’t the compliment he thought it was. He leaned forward coming level with my gaze and grabbed up the gauntlet I threw at him. Sucker! “And why is that, pretty Callie?” I bent forward in my chair mimicking his movement and stared right back at him. “Because John, men will always only see the cover and think ‘Fuck me’ book. They figure if they pay attention to the superficial exterior, then they’ll be successful. What they miss time and time again is that women are not half so satisfied with physical as they are spiritual connection. And since they can’t count on their significant other to provide that for them, they buy our books and find satisfaction in what’s BETWEEN the covers.” We stared silently at each other for a moment more before John exploded in laughter right in my face. I nodded in exasperation and stood to leave. “I rest my case.” I murmured as I turned to go. John immediately rose and squeezed my midsection to him from behind, “You’re good, Callie. No wonder you’re a success at writing this mush. I’ll bet you believe it too.” You know, I could be incensed at his dismissal of my chosen profession as “mush”, but I decided it wouldn’t do any good. His sexiness, Master of the Universe, wouldn’t even understand that he’d just insulted me. He leaned down and whispered seductively in my ear. “You’re getting a little soft around the middle here, Cal. When are you going to take me up on that trip to the gym I keep offering?” My eyes crossed. Why he could possibly think I would want to pour myself into spandex anything to strut around with him in the gym thus completely relieving myself of every last shred of pride I ever owned was beyond my ability to comprehend. “Getting soft? I’ve been soft for quite some time, thank you for noticing. However I probably will take up on that offer sometime, just so you can see for yourself how absolutely pathetic I look on any one of those weight lifting contraptions. Maybe then you’ll give it up.” “Not a chance, Callie-girl. I’m quite confident that all I have to do is get you in there, and I’ll have you hooked for life. We’ll have this sexy little body back in shape in no time. Then you can star on one of my covers with me.” Oooh. Joy. Rapture. “Hope springs eternal, I suppose. Right now however, I have to hightail it Phyllis’ office or she’ll have me losing weight by taking a chunk out of my rump roast.” His chuckle rumbled down his chest against my back until my back proceeded to have a seizure without my permission. I pulled away only to have my butt smacked on the way out the door. I hurried my way down the corporate hallway, commencing the same old conversation I always had with God. ‘Why is it again that I keep asking for a man and you keep sending two-legged dogs in my direction? I mean did I commit some serious blasphemy or something to deserve this?’ As usual, I could swear I heard raucous male laughter from somewhere above seated on a golden Diaz. Proof positive that God is, in fact, of the male persuasion and my butt took the personal brunt of all his jokes…along with the rest of me. You know, there were times when I would have entertained the notion of going out with John. Maybe even becoming “involved” with him. But Corral had dated a gym-bag toting jock just like him a few months back which permanently steered me away from those thoughts with whistles and bells of danger blaring in my head every time. Dirk had been so obsessed with his body and his “gym time”, it was amazing that he found time for anything else. He used to down at least fifteen pills every morning of vitamins, energy boosts and other such crap. It had messed up his chemistry so bad, you couldn’t touch the guy without him jumping a mile. I kid you not. It could be the dead of winter and he’d have the blankets kicked off because he couldn’t stand the weight. It was almost scary. I rapped a couple times on Phyllis’ door before walking right on in. “You know one day I’m going to walk in and find out exactly what you really do behind closed doors all day.” I teased. She looked up from the meager collection of papers on her desk that was my pitiful attempt at a manuscript and smiled. “Come on in, Callie.” I strode over to her coffee machine and selected out the Dogbert mug. It was my favorite one. He had a bat in his hand dragging it away from a completely trashed computer. It said, “We are currently experiencing technical difficulties…but I feel much better now.” I poured a cup and drown it in her Irish creamer and sugar before taking a seat across from her in front of the desk. Phyllis was my editor and a darned good one. Probably the only person I seriously listened to since my folks moved across country. But don’t tell her that. She had soft auburn hair with silver streaks in it and granny glasses perched on her imperially sleek nose. The woman must have been in her fifties, but her green eyes still blazed with mischief and joy like she was a star-struck teenager. She was a classic aging beauty always well kept, but underneath beat the heart of a real amazon. Her manicured mauve fingernail speared one of the piles on her desk. “I like this one set in the North Carolina mountains,” She announced. “You could stand to lose the scar on her face though,” It was an obvious reprimand which I strategically maneuvered around. “Hey, don’t deny me my little rebellions. Scarred, maimed, and otherwise imperfect heroines are my stock and trade.” I reasoned, grinning unabashedly at her. She smirked, rolling her eyes and swinging around her creaky chair to face her computer. I caught of whiff of her Estee Lauder Beautiful. “This doesn’t look like its anywhere near to a point where it might make deadline though. How come you haven’t written more on it?” she asked while perusing the screen. “Because I just came up with it at four o’clock this morning.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose and stretched my aching neck which was the occupational hazard of computer people right along with carpal tunnel syndrome. More so in my opinion. “Honestly, I’ve made several attempts now to start and just can’t seem to keep going on any one thread before my brain turns to mush.” She stared back at me over the rim of her glasses, “Ah, HAH! That’s what I thought. You’re burning out, Cal.” I didn’t like the sound of that. “What does that mean? I need to start looking for another job?” My eyebrow raised and I could feel the wrinkle lines on my forehead deepen visibly. To combat that, I decided to take a sip of my coffee and keep my chin lowered to my chest. “Nope. It means that I move the deadline back which I was pretty sure I was going to end up doing anyway and it means you go on a much needed vacation.” I looked back up just in time to see her booking a flight on the travel site used by the corporate office. “Oh really?” I exclaimed half in jest, “And just exactly which orifice am I supposed to pull money out from to do that?” Phyllis’ shoulders shook with laughter then, “The company’s orifice, dear. I am sending you to the corporate cabin in North Carolina ‘officially’ to do research, ‘unofficially’ to get away from the city and relax.” When I didn’t answer her, but only tried to blink away my shock at such an offer, she continued. “Callie, you’ve met every deadline up until now. You’ve done well for the company and you deserve the break. Besides, it’s a working vacation so take your laptop with you and come back with a manuscript.” She turned back to face me and handed me the North Carolina manuscript she’d stabbed earlier. I put my elbow down on her desk and propped my chin on my hand, “Damn, I knew there was a catch. And going to North Carolina all by myself doesn’t sound like much fun. What if Corral manages to figure out how to blow up the apartment while I’m away.” I mock complained until she stuck her tongue out at me and spit. Can you imagine? My well kept editor spit at me! “Then I’ll let you sleep on the cot downstairs. Don’t forget to pick up your ticket in the Travel office before you leave today. Now get out of my office so I can go back to my secret work I’ll never let you walk in on.” She grinned maliciously at me and I cackled back. I downed my last two sips of coffee before standing and taking the manuscript from her hands along with a flight itinerary. I walked out of her office and closed the door behind me musing all the way. What kind of heroes would I find in the mountains of North Carolina? Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out. ‘North Carolina…here comes Callie McPherson, ready or not!” Now, how to tell the “suits” that their dictations were going to get put on hold for a while so the transcriptionist could go frolicking through the mountains. Hmmmm.