Tuesday, January 30, 2018
Lord Roeder's Mine is a prequel to my Lone Wolf Series. Matilda's father, Ed Dulac, is stationed on a planet named Solaris, where he loses his wife and two daughters. He becomes a Trimagnite miner, and one of his assignments is the infamous Lord Roeder's Mine.
"Gun it," Tarvo ordered.
The pilot slapped his controls and the ship leaped forward, knocking most of its personnel on their rear ends. The interstice snapped shut behind them, taking with it a portion of their rear sensor array.
"What the hell just happened?" Ed called from Medical. "I just landed on my ass, Wayne. What are you playing at?"
"Stubborn interstice, Dulac. Deal with it." He clicked off and made an all ship bulletin apologizing for the inconvenience. "What went wrong?" He asked his bridge crew.
Lieutenant Garrow on navigation answered. "I'm still running an analysis, Captain. So far, nothing is showing up. I'm also running diagnostics of the interstice and my console, sir."
"Tell me when it's done."
"Hail Committee Home Base," he told the communications officer.
"Yes, Captain," Lane Halapay replied. "They are demanding a command code, sir."
"What? Have they gone completely out of their minds? Since when do I...?" He stopped talking when a large and angry reptilian face filled his screen.
"A little warning would have been nice, Lieutenant," Wayne muttered to Halapay.
"They did it without asking, sir."
"Who am I talking to?" Tarvo asked abruptly. "You've got some nerve to override my comunit like that."
"What is your Guild command code?"
"I don't give that out to anyone. You'd know that if you worked around here."
"Name and rank."
"That ain't exactly your business either. I'm contacting Committee Home Base."
"And I am replying."
"Well, I guess we're at an impasse, buddy."
"I believe that the security ships off your port bow have now shifted the balance." The screen flickered to show three gun ships off port.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Grff Sslick, Acting Security Chief for Committee Home Base."
"You new at your job?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You never taught manners back in the swamp?" Wayne recognized Sslick as a member of the reptilian species from a swampy planet called Viotempe. "I got Guild business here. More to the point, I got business with Dr. Savolopis. Now, you either clear me to do that peacefully, or you're going to find yourself in a bind."
"We have superior weapons."
"Maybe so, but I got mining lasers. You ever seen what one of them can do to a spaceship? It ain't pretty."
"I demand you identify...."
"And I demand you follow protocol. I don't have time for this shit. I'm completing my mission as ordered. If your ships fire on me, you're gonna have Emmelia Spenser on you so fast, you'll piss your britches. Blackmore," he said to the pilot.
"Get me down there, boy."
"Get those lasers on line."
"You cut down anything that tries to get in our way."
"You got it, sir."
"Sslick, you got ten seconds to get outta my way. Ten, nine...."
The three gun ships moved back, but flanked the Guild vessel as it made its descent to the gigantic asteroid that was Committee Home Base.
Tarvo's private comunit on his chair flickered. He glanced at it.
"Dad, what's going on? The entire base is on alert."
"Some dickhead who thinks he knows what he's doing."
"Oh, him! Give me a minute. I think I can clear this up." The screen flickered off.
Moments later, another face appeared. This was the Base Command Station.
"Wayne Tarvo, are you who's causing all this trouble?"
"Ben Drexel, thank God! Who's that turtle brained idiot who thinks he's in charge?"
"Last minute replacement for the Security Chief. The other one met with an accident. We're looking for a permanent replacement. I'm not sure where he came from, but he's got bilge for brains."
The gun ships tipped their wings respectfully and flew off.
"Thank you. First the damn interstice wouldn't open, then that bozo came on demanding my command codes."
"He had security locked the gate from this side. I'm not even sure how he did it. I didn't give the order. Give a lizard a little power, he suddenly thinks he's in charge."
"I'd throw the fucker in the brig."
Ben grinned. "I've got you on my scope now. Your nav should have the orbit coordinates."
"Aye, sir," Garrow said clearly. "Locking in now, sir."
"Thank God for the Marines," Tarvo said with a dry chuckle.
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
Drake Mann makes his living as a waiter, and a comic magician, at a local comedy club. He's also finishing up his last semester of college. He's kept a low profile, for the most part, but suddenly finds himself the topic of female scrutiny. Completely out of the blue, one of the girls in his class, asks him out. He says yes.
Megan looked back at him, a smug expression on her face. He had a feeling he was in for more than a few drinks after the show. But hell, maybe that was a good thing. Some casual sex would feel pretty damn good right about now. Being a single father, working two jobs and watching Davy, he hadn't had much of a social life. He'd see if Randi could babysit late. While he was thinking about it, he called her cell. He didn't think she would pick up, but she did.
Too surprised to speak right away, he paused.
"Drake? That's you, right? What's up?"
"I didn't expect you to answer. Aren't you at school?"
"Lunch break, duh. Whatcha need?"
"Can you stay longer Friday? A friend asked me to get drinks or something after the show."
"Ooh, or something? Can I guess? Is she tall, blonde and gorgeous?"
"Not too tall, light brown hair, pretty."
"But female, right?"
He laughed, nodding. "Yes, female. Why?"
"Cause you need to get laid, bro. I'd do you myself, but that would make our working relationship strained."
"And I won't do anyone under nineteen, so our working relationship is safe."
"If I was nineteen and not your babysitter, would you do me?"
"If you were nineteen and not my babysitter, I'd do you in a heartbeat."
"Cool. Just so we know where we stand."
"So, can you stay longer?"
"Of course. In fact, I'll bring an overnight bag and camp out on the couch. That way you can stay out all night."
"I don't figure on it getting quite that serious, Randi."
"In case. That's all I'm saying."
"You are a absolute gem, Miranda."
"Thank you, Drake. I pride myself on my ability to shine! Speaking of which, I'm in the school play. I'm playing the lead. You'll come, right?"
"Absolutely. Reserve me two tickets front and center. I'll bring Davy."
"Shit no, bring your new lady."
"Not that kind of relationship, Randi."
"Oh, I get it. This is a casual drinks and fuck date?"
"God, I hope so!" He laughed, gathering up his books. He heard a bell ring on her end. "Get to class, kid."
"Yeah, on my way already."
"No problem, D." She hung up. Moments later, she messaged him. "Go 4 it!"
Laughing, Drake walked to his next class.
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Janet Yarkowski has had a life full of many ups and downs. Diego, the love of her life, has been in the Navy for many years. She didn't hear from him for so long, she finally allowed herself to marry another man. Tex beat her, killing their unborn child. She left him and went back to her hometown in Nebraska, working hard as a teacher. One day, Diego showed up. He was with her a few months, then his commanding officer demanded that he do another job for him. Shortly after Diego left, Janet found out she was pregnant. Now, it's Christmas time and she's heading back to Texas to be with her dying mother. On the way, she stops in a truck stop diner.
Janet got through the next couple of weeks in a daze. Christmas break was coming, the students had exams and she could hardly function. As excited as she was about having Diego's child, she couldn't face the reality of being alone. She planned to head to her parents' house the first day of break. She woke that morning and got ready slowly. There was no joy in her trip. Her mother had been diagnosed with cancer and had been given less than a year. Janet could only hope that she'd live long enough to see her first grandchild come into the world.
Her trip south was uneventful. There were warnings and threats of blizzards, but she managed to dodge them all. She sat in a truck stop drinking coffee and eating a piece of pie. The lowering clouds on the horizon made her think of Tex for the first time in years. She wondered what he was doing with himself, where he was. Not that it mattered. The only reason she wanted to see him again was to get him to sign divorce papers so she could marry Diego.
Overcome by grief, she propped her head on her hands and let the tears fall. She was tired, worried about her mother and had the unbalanced emotions of a pregnant woman. Clutching handfuls of paper napkins, she wept as silently as she could, shoulders hunched and shaking. Her sobs and sniffles didn't go unnoticed for long. Her waitress, a kindly woman about her mother's age, slid into the booth across from her, handing her a clean cloth towel from the kitchen.
"You okay, honey?"
Janet sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. "No. Do you ever feel like life just plain sucks?"
"All the time," the woman replied. "Every day when I have to come to this place." She smiled warmly. "Can I get you anything? Another slice? A warm up on the coffee?"
"I'll take a new life to go, please," Janet said, trying to smile. "I'm sorry. My husband's gone overseas and I just found out I'm pregnant. I'm on the way to Lubbock to visit my mother. She's really sick and this may be the last time I see her."
The woman came over to sit by her, putting Janet's head on her shoulder. "You go ahead and cry it out, honey. You got to get the bad out before the good can come in." She held Janet and let her cry.
One of the truckers called to her from his booth. "You gonna come refill my coffee?"
"You know where it is, don't you?"
"Well, help yourself. While you're up, see if anyone else needs some. This girl needs me more than you lazy bastards."
To Janet's surprise, the man got up and got the coffee. He made the rounds and topped off his own cup. When she'd calmed down, the woman handed her the bill. It had "On the House," scrawled across it. Janet thanked her, leaving a handsome tip. She stopped in the bathroom. When she came out, the waitress came up with a huge teddy bear from the gift shop.
"The boys chipped in and got this for you," she said with a happy grin. "Don't you worry. It's gonna be okay."
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
We've got quite a selection of genres here, with some truly wonderful guests. This will be quite a show, so be sure to tune in.
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Colby and Avery have been just friends since they were kids. They also hang out with Gavin and Stan, making Avery the only girl. When Stan hurts her feelings earlier in the day, Colby does his best to comfort her. He stuns himself, even more than Avery, by kissing her. Still confused by his sudden attraction to Avery, as more than just a buddy, he gets a call from Gavin.
Avery hung up so suddenly, Colby jumped, nearly dropping his phone. Stunned, he flopped onto his back, staring at the stains on the ceiling. His thoughts spun out of control. He was still trying to figure out the dynamics of the conversation when his phone rang. It was Gavin.
“So, how did it go?” he asked as soon as Colby answered.
“Not bad, I guess. Kind of confusing. But pretty good.”
“Okay—clarified it—not at all.”
“I'm still trying to figure it out. When I do, I'll let you know.”
“Start by telling me what happened after you left.”
“I went to Avery's and gave her the game time.”
“I kissed her.”
There was a stunned silence.
“I'm here,” was the choked reply. “Kissed—like Kissed?”
“Lips meet, tongues dance—yeah. And she showed me her tits. Well, she had her shirt on—”
“Should you have told me—any of that? I swear, I'm scarred for life. I heard tits.”
“She's a girl. Do you expect her not to have breasts?
“I know she's a girl, somewhere under all that baggy shit. So, did you cop a feel?”
“Chill, bro. You brought it up. I could've gone my whole life not knowing that.”
There was another pause.
“So, were they nice?”
“I'm not going to discuss Avery's assets.”
“They're assets now, not breasts?”
“Excuse me for not talking about my girlfriend's chest with my perv friend.”
“Your WHAT? Dude, if you're jerking me around, I will fucking kill you in your sleep.”
“That came up after she showed me her—um.... Yeah.”
“What a day of surprises. Stan asked out the blonde goddess and you kissed Avery after ogling her tits.”
“I didn't ogle!”
“Yeah, right. You're a man—they are breasts—you ogled. Admitting you have a problem is half the battle.”
Colby burst out laughing. Gavin was right, he had ogled and more than just a little. He'd copped a feel or two (or three) as well. Not only were they nice looking, they felt good too. Just as he imagined, warm, soft, perfectly formed hemispheres of bliss.
“Dude!” Gavin yelled. “I do not want to know that!”
“Know what? I didn't say anything.”
“You were waxing poetic on the configuration of Avery's—assets.”
“Swear ta god! I'm going to have to go wash my ears, man. And scrub my eyeballs. Cause you've given me two images I don't want to carry another second.”
“Perfectly formed hemispheres of bliss....” Colby repeated, sucking in his breath sharply.
The phone went dead. Colby laughed, tossing the phone onto the couch.
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, January 18, 2018
Colt Remington (yes, it's his real name) has just gotten a job as the male lead in a new play that is opening at a privately owned theatre. He's not needed on stage, so he heads down to the costume shop to be measured. His buff body causes a great deal of comment among the staff, several of whom argue about who gets to measure him.
"Got to measure your rise," Trish said quietly, awed somewhat by the inseam adventure.
One end of the tape went on his belt buckle as the tape went between his legs and up his butt to his belt. Trish's hand caressed his ass while she held the tape, letting her fingers drop in front. She read off a number, slowly pulling the tape back out. Colt clenched his buttocks so the tape stopped partway. Trish tugged, but the tape wouldn't budge.
"You smart ass, bastard," she teased. "Gimme my tape."
Colt released and the tape measure popped out between his legs.
"Want to measure anything else down there?"
"You're sure? I can arrange that."
"Not unless you intend to pleasure me," she replied with a saucy smirk.
"Sorry, baby. Spoken for. Dammit, Shaine, where were all these women when I was hurtin'?"
"You were hurtin'? Big, gorgeous hunk of man meat like you?" Sookie was incredulous. "Hell, I'd do you myself, and I like chicks! Something that gorgeous has to be appreciated," she explained to her startled colleagues.
"The prior girlfriend was being inconsiderate," he replied. "The new one appreciates this gorgeous hunk of man meat."
"Smart woman," Kennedy said with an exaggerated groan. "God! Can I please measure something? Anything! Name a body part!"
Colt felt sorry for her, but didn't want her to touch him if she was too young.
"How old are you, Kennedy?"
"Almost twenty. Birthday's next week."
He raised an appealing eyebrow at Trish. "Come on. Let her measure my chest. An early birthday?"
"Okay, but no lower. She's still a baby. I didn't get to do my first inseam until I was twenty-one."
"Really? His chest? Oh, my God! Can he take off his shirt? Please?" She begged.
Colt obliged, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. All the women, including Sterling and Shaine, stared at him as he handed his shirt to Trish. Holding his arms out from his sides, he presented a finely sculpted chest to Kennedy.
She took the tape measure from Trish, her hands trembling. "I think I forgot how!"
"Just wrap your arms around me, darlin' and let nature do the rest."
She put her arms around him, bringing the tape under his arms. As her fingers brushed his chest, his nipples hardened and he flexed his muscles.
"Oh, my God! Fifty-four and a half! No way! I can't breathe," she said, sitting heavily. She fanned herself, letting the tape drop to the floor.
Colt went down on one knee, picking it up. He gave it to her, putting it in her hand as he kissed her fingers. "Happy Birthday, Kennedy," he whispered huskily.
"Eep!" She hopped up, running from the room, fanning herself. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
Cynthia Marshal is newly appointed as the head reporter for the social page at one of the city's major papers. She's been assigned to do a series of articles on Ian Yarrow, a reclusive billionaire. She had no idea, when they met, that he was in a wheelchair. Their first meeting doesn't go very well, but they soon warm up to one another.
"When did you lose your virginity?" he asked suddenly, then held up his hands. "Sorry. Not my business. I was just—"
"Thinking like a man. I have brothers." She giggled, blushing slightly.
"More than one?"
"Lonnie's the eldest, but I've got three more, one older, two younger."
"Not a one. Mama used to tease that I was the redheaded step-child."
He laughed, brushing her red hair from her face. "I like redheads."
"Your friends do too. Both Hal and Brodie are married to redheads."
"Something about you girls with the fiery locks that makes a man weak," he sighed.
"All me." She tossed her short hair. "Well, some highlights, but the red is all me."
He wasn't staring at her hair. She was wearing a flimsy T-shirt and no bra. He could tell by the way her breasts jiggled when she moved. He was mesmerized.
"Hello? The face is up here," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Instead of covering her breasts up, the crossed arms popped them up and outward. Her nipples seemed to chastise him for looking at them. He couldn't help it, he was fascinated. She was beautiful, intelligent, confident and very much her own woman. She'd put up with him when he was acting like a spoiled child, then turned around and gave him one of the best nights of his life.
Cynthia snapped her fingers in front of Ian's face. "Excuse me! When I need you to stare at my tits, I'll tell you. I think you'll do a bang-up job. You seem to be talented in that area already."
"Sorry," Yarrow grinned apologetically. "They're very nice tits, Cynthia. Extraordinary, in fact."
"One pair is tits is like another."
"You say that because you have them. See, when you're on the receiving end of tits, not sporting a pair, you notice the differences. Some are perky and pert, round and firm—the compact model. Others are saggy and well worn, the sedan model. Then there are those that are extra round, excessively pert, ultra soft, and firmly delicious—the sporty model. And those are what you have."
"I've got sporty tits?" She didn't know whether to be flattered or horrified.
"Thank you. I think? Is that a compliment?"
"It sure is from my perspective."
"Which is what?"
"The perspective of a man who's strongly attracted to you."
"Why do you date married women?"
"Why would you ask me a question like that? I just told you I'm attracted to you."
"Why what? Why am I attracted to you or why do I date married women?"
Yarrow sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. "They don't expect a commitment. They don't want anything but the sex and to feel desirable for a little while."
"And me? You told me Thursday, you'd do anything with the right equipment."
"An exaggeration. Once in awhile, I indulge in some naughty, meaningless sex with a willing female—married or not. It's not every night, not even every week. We have a mutually satisfying encounter. Is that a crime?"
"But why me? I mean, you've done super models and trophy wives. I'm not like any of those women. For one thing, my parts are all original."
"I don't know, Cynthia. There's something about you. . . ."
"What? What is there about me?"
Frustrated, he leaned back on the chaise, arms crossed. "I don't know. You excite me like no other woman I've met. I don't understand it. There's just something. . . ." He was angry that he couldn't put his feelings into words. That had never happened to him before. He could always say what he thought.
"What is there about me? What? I need to know, Yarrow, before this can go any further."
"You look past the chair and you see—me! You don't pretend to like me because I'm rich. You argue with me and make me angrier than anyone else I've ever met, then you show me that somewhere under this worthless set of legs, there's still a whole man."
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, January 11, 2018
Alton & Velda is my first venture into Medieval fantasy with elves, nymphs and so on. Alton is a Wood Sprite, Velda is a Naiad. Astrid is a human, but her betrothed, Revanth, has an unfortunate problem. He was turned into a horse by an evil witch. His plight worsens when he is stolen by a couple of cruel horse thieves. Alton follows after, determined to get his friend back.
Revanth had not been well treated in his captivity. He was covered with mud and black fly bites. A stone had lodged in his hoof and he walked with a limp. The men weren't interested in that, though they did stop and wash him before entering town.
Horse and men made their slow way to the town. The men decided to look for a buyer before approaching the auction. If that didn't pan out, they could still put Revanth on the auction block.
The first potential buyer was a wealthy merchant from the Southern Continent. He was lavishly dressed in flowing robes in bright colors.
Revanth did his best to look disconsolate and down trodden. Unfortunately, his noble bearing (as horse or man) couldn't be hidden. He did his best to exaggerate his limp, but it wasn't until the man tried to examine his teeth, that his opportunity came. The fellow reached soft, pampered hands to Revanth's mouth. The horse-man bared strong, white teeth. A snarl curled his upper lip and he snapped.
The hands approached once more. Revanth opened his jaws, biting firmly, though not as much as he could have. He was still a gentleman and the merchant hadn't wronged him. Besides, he sensed his captors would beat him senseless if he seriously injured a potential buyer.
The merchant hopped back, squawking in panic. "Vicious beast!" He swatted at Revanth.
A horse's body doesn't lend itself to laughter, but he could snort and twitch his ears. Revanth's attitude certainly conveyed mirth.
"Get away from me, you beast! How can you ask someone to buy a horse like that?"
Other attempted sales went much the same way. The thieves decided to stop at a seedy tavern for a cup of cheap ale.
"If we can't find a wealthy buyer, any will do," the leader growled.
"Sly, we should take him to the auction."
"Where the entire city can see how badly he behaves? Are you mad, Grit? If we don't sell him in the next hour, we'll kill him and cut our loses."
"I hate doing that, Sly. He's a beautiful beast."
"Pretty or not, he's a burden. We can't keep him. He's too distinctive. What would a pair of drifters like us be doing with a warhorse?"
Sly picked up his tankard, draining it. With a click, he set it on the table and signaled for another.
Alton wandered into view. He spotted the men and Revanth nearby. He swaggered over to the tavern, ordering a cup of mead. Once it was served, he made a show of examining the crowd. His eyes slowly drifted to where the two thieves sat, heedless of his presence. His eyes narrowed and he plunked down his tankard.
"That's—my horse!" He pointed to Revanth. "What are you blackguards doing with him?" He put his hand on his sword hilt, advancing on the hapless pair.
The crowd spread quickly, giving him space to approach the men. They froze, cups of ale suspended halfway to gaping mouths.
"I've been after you bastards for two days. Call the watch!" he bellowed. "Hold them," he commanded.
The men finally decided it was time to flee. They rose from their seats, turning to run away. Bystanders surrounded them, closing the spaces between them. Horse theft was a serious crime in these parts. The wouldn't get away.
The city watch arrived moments later and the sergeant quickly ascertained the situation with a few carefully worded questions of the crowd. He addressed particular individuals, whose word he seemed to consider reliable. When he was done, he granted Alton leave to question the thieves.
Alton advanced on the leader, standing mere inches from Sly. Before he could speak, the man started babbling.
"We didn't steal him, young master. We found him wandering the road. We brought him here to see if we could find his owner."
"Then why did you try to sell him to anyone as would look at him?" the tavern wench spoke up. "If you was trying so hard to find his owner?"
"He were wandering, like," Sly persisted.
"Liar! My horse is battle trained. He doesn't wander off. He disappeared from the tavern where we stayed two nights hence."
"Would that be Tom Joyce's tavern?" the sergeant asked.
"I don't recall his name, but he passes himself off as magistrate there."
"That's the one," the sergeant said. "Lock them up," he ordered. "You may get away with theft in Tom Joyce's jurisdiction, but you won't do so here. You're in Baylor Fallow's territory now, and he won't hold with horse theft. Take 'em away."
He turned to Alton. "Now, sir. Prove to me that's your horse."
"Gladly." The Wood Sprite stepped forward. "Revanth, come."
Revanth snorted, lifting his head. He stepped forward, limping.
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, January 09, 2018
After the death of Chase's father, his Uncle Neil comes home. He's going to take the place of Dora, Chase's mother. Cliff's place has been taken by his younger sister, Cynthia. Neil was in love with Cynthia when they were teenagers. Seeing her again after almost 20 years, he realizes the old feelings never died. The two of them have just spent some quality time getting reacquainted.
They said goodnight. Chase was ready for bed, so Neil took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. He could smell Cynthia's cologne on his clothing and it made him want her again. He remembered, with a lurch, he'd promised to call when he got home. Picking up his phone, he saw a missed call. It was from Cynthia. She merely said to call as soon as he got the message. He called back immediately.
“You must think I'm a real dick,” he said when she picked up.
Cynthia laughed. “No, but I was worried.”
“I'm sorry. Chase was up when I got here. Kid needed to talk.”
“He's going through a lot right now.”
“Yeah. I know. I hope that I can help.”
“I don't know about Chase, but you sure helped me.”
“Yeah?” He couldn't keep the delight from his voice. “You helped me, too, Cindy Lou.”
“Uhh, I wish I'd never told you my middle name is Louise.”
“Really? I'd forgotten that. I just always thought of Cindy Lou Who.”
“Now I really want to smack you.”
“Promise? Some gentle abuse, light bondage.... I'm up for it, but are you sure that's how you roll, babe?”
“You are semi-impossible, Mr. Braxton.”
“Only semi? I think I should be offended. Really, the more accurate assessment is semi-improbable and nearly impossible.”
“Oh, I apologize for irregular use of adjectives.”
“I do love you, Cindy Lou.” He paused. “Shit, is it too early in this budding romance to say I love you?”
“Took you twenty years to say it. I think it's allowed. Had we just met, Mr. Braxton, it would be entirely too soon.”
“Yeah, if we'd just met, I betcha we wouldn't have done what we just did, either.”
“Safe bet. But we didn't and Boy DID we!” She giggled light heartedly. “I think it's semi-improbable that I feel this good.”
“It's nearly impossible that you feel as good as I do.”
“Superlative Game, Mr. Braxton? Should I be offended?”
“No games, Cindy Lou, just the God's honest truth. I feel better than I can ever remember. See what happens when I get to make love to the most beautiful woman in Miracle, Mississippi?”
“Not to mention the entire county.”
“Venture to say, the state.”
“The whole Southeast.”
“Babe, you are the most beautiful girl in the world, to me.”
Her reply was a sniffle. “I've missed you so much, Neil.”
“I'm back, Cynthia. I'm not going anywhere.” He yawned, loudly. “Except to bed. Jeez, is it really almost three? I've been awake nearly twenty-four hours!”
“Call me when you wake up.”
“How about you call me? I don't want to wake you.”
“Shoot me a text or I will shoot you one. Whichever one of us gets the text first, calls.”
“Works. Goodnight, Cindy Lou.”
“Goodnight, Neilio,” she teased, hanging up quickly.
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
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