by Неизвестный
I turned and gave Kenny a wide-eyed look as we walked off the stage.
“Dirty boy,” I said.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I’m twenty. I don’t have much more of a crush on Mr. J than I do on any other straight man under fifty in this auditorium.”
“Good, because I’m calling dibs on Mr. J.”
“Yeah? Trying again for that sex date? One hot night together before you, me, and the dog hit the road tomorrow?”
I sighed. “A girl can dream.”
“That’s a good name for the band. You, Me and the Dog.”
“That’s confusing and weird. I love it.”
10.
Kenny and I weren’t planning to attend the post-graduation dance, but two things convinced us:
1. We were both curious about what Arturo wanted to talk to me about.
2. Kenny’s application to have the dog declared an official therapy animal came through. We received his official yellow vest that very day, and put it on like a long-lasting magical glamor spell. Now the dog could go anywhere, and help Kenny cope with his anxiety, so he wouldn’t have to take so many drugs just to be able to leave the house. Since the dog was all dressed up and ready to party anywhere, we declared the post-graduation dance to be dog prom, and the three of us fancied ourselves up.
I submitted to having myself “made over” in the image of a proper young lady. Kenny’s not the kind of gay friend who does makeovers, so he called in some friends of his, and they got out the sandpaper and grime-remover and went to work on me and my barnacles.
I’m just kidding about the barnacles. I do practice basic hygiene. But, according to the gay dudes, my cuticles were ragged as hell, and the fun rainbow of colors in my hair were a total nightmare. Whatever.
When they finished, I looked exactly like my favorite old photo of my great-grandmother. I nearly cried all over my vintage dress. I quickly hummed an I-will-not-cry-now spell to myself. As I looked in the mirror and listened to myself hum, I recognized the melody as the lullaby my great-grandmother used to sing to me. With that memory, not even the spell could hold back the floodgates.
Kenny picked me up off the floor, though, and we got into Piglet with the dog and drove to the dance.
Once we got there, I looked around the dance hall for Arturo, but couldn’t see him. Before I could go asking around, someone asked me to dance. It was a fun retro song, so I danced. Then another guy asked me to dance. And another.
The makeover was working too well! I was the most popular girl at the dance, much to my pretend-horror.
Two hours later, my feet were getting tired from dancing when a very familiar face popped up in front of me.
It was Arturo, looking spectacularly handsome in an actual tuxedo.
The guy I was dancing with frowned, noting that the real tuxedo trumped his tuxedo-print T-shirt, and quickly left the two of us.
“You’ve become Miss Popularity,” Arturo said over the music.
I shook my dance fists from left to right like miniature pom poms. “Vote Zebbie for Prom Queen!”
“We don’t do that here.”
I poked him in his chin dimple with one finger. “There’s a first time for everything.”
He caught my hand and kissed my fingertips while looking into my eyes. A blast of sparkles shot out from… let’s just call it “from underneath my dress.”
The horror! I stopped dancing and crossed my legs. The other students couldn’t see the magic light, but Arturo had. His eyes glowed amethyst.
The light blasted out again. I didn’t know what to do. Sparkles had never shot out of my ladyparts before. My song witch mentor should have mentioned something like this.
I could have curled up right there on the dance floor, praying for death from embarrassment, but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t stop the sparkles shooting out like a telltale crinoline of horniness. So, I turned and ran.
I ran as fast as I could.
Arturo chased after me, slowing down only to pick up my shoes as they fell off. He followed me outside, into the crisp, dark night air. I kept running. I’d been meaning to get some exercise, and now was the time.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he called after me.
“I’m never wearing a dress again!” I sobbed.
He caught me by the hand and tugged me to a stop under a streetlamp. “I think it’s sexy.” He reached for my cheek and pulled me gently to face him and his glowing purple eyes. “Zeb, I think everything about you is sexy.”
“I’m like a broken fire hydrant blasting horny sparkles.”
“You look beautiful, for a broken fire hydrant. Is your hair all one color?”
“Don’t look at me with your sexy purple wizard eyes.”
“My eyes are purple? Well, I guess there’s no hiding it. That means I want you.”
“You don’t want me, Arturo. You think you do, but as soon as you get me naked, you’ll just walk away again.”
He pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingers again. More sparkles, and this time I felt them. Everywhere. My bare toes curled against the cobblestones on the path.
“I was scared that night,” he said.
“You’re superstitious. My coven told me all those myths about wizards and witches stealing each other’s powers during sex. They said it’s all urban legends, something you wizards make up to get out of commitment. Nothing but old wizards’ tales.”
“My fear had nothing to do with magic, Zeb.” He stepped in closer, so our noses were nearly touching. “I was afraid of the most powerful magic of all. Love.” He kissed me. “But I’m not afraid anymore.”
And with those non-magical words, the spell was cast.
Arturo wasn’t afraid anymore, so neither was I.
I kissed him back, looping my arms around his neck so he wouldn’t get away. We kissed each other under the street lamp until we were gasping for breath.
I pulled away and gave him hell for months of torture. It was agony to sit in his classroom and focus on lessons when I just wanted to rip his clothes off and nibble him all over. He told me he’d felt the same way.
“Zeb, I’m a math wizard, and I finally figured out the formula. One plus one equals infinity, when love is part of the equation. Zeb, I love you.”
I quickly hummed the I-will-not-cry-now lullaby, then said, “Where do we go from here?”
He kissed me, then murmured, “My house?”
“Too far. My van’s parked right over there.”
He grimaced, showing his snooty side, but I kissed him so hard, he changed his mind about making love in a vintage Volkswagen. He swept me up in his arms, saying he had to, since I wasn’t wearing any shoes, and he carried me into the van.
We closed the curtains on the little windows and tore each other’s clothes off. I had stocked the van with some non-magical sexual protection spells in anticipation of my hot summer of touring, so I handed him a square packet and he readied his sparkling love rocket.
He fell into my arms and gently plundered me while I moaned helpful feedback. Everything seemed to fit together right, from what I could tell. His fingers left tracers on my skin and vice versa. His kisses were like fire and water at the same time, and I went crazy for him.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“You’re a great liar, just like Kenny.”
He moved against me and with me, pounding out a beautiful rhythm with perfect timing.
“Admit you’re beautiful.”
I whispered back, “Your eyes see only beauty, and so that’s all there is. I am yours.”
“You are mine.”
“One plus one.”
He smiled. “Infinity.”
Our light merged as we reached the end, and hovered over us like a star. I dug my fingers into Arturo’s muscular back and murmured that I loved him. He swore his soul to me, from that moment forward.
The star went supernova.
11.
When the van’s a-r
ockin’ don’t come a-knockin’.
That’s the new bumper sticker we applied to Piglet’s bumper before we left town for our summer tour.
Our band, the soon-to-be famous You Me and the Dog had a fourth member: Arturo. He wasn’t the greatest backup singer, and his work on rhythm guitar needed to loosen up, but he brought his composition expertise to our songwriting. Plus he brought his money, and his convertible, towing a new trailer holding our band equipment.
I didn’t bring him for his money, though. I brought him because as soon as we both admitted how in love with each other we were, we couldn’t bear to spend one night apart. I joked that he needed a yellow vest, like the dog’s, so he could be my official therapy animal.
He likes it when I call him an “animal.” He says I bring out his inner tiger. And I do bring out his inner tiger… frequently. Sometimes I bring it out in hotel rooms along the road, and sometimes literally along the road, pulled over to the side so we can have at each other inside Piglet.
They say that when a wizard and witch have sex, they can steal each other’s powers. For a while, I worried it was true after all. I was getting more powerful by the day. Then Arturo said his magic was getting stronger as well. We’ve decided the legend must be true, but it does the opposite when both people are giving instead of taking. When they are in love.
Love.
Love is my driving force these days, in every way. I love touring, and I love Kenny and the dog. Both of them are happy on the road, having their adventures. They worried about Arturo joining the band, but I do little things to assure them of my infinite love. For example, last week I booked Kenny and the dog a couple’s massage at a spa that does Doggie and Me treatments. They both came out looking relaxed and smelling pretty, with matching red ribbons in their hair.
I can be sweet sometimes, thanks to the magic of love.
Love is what keeps me going on days that get too long. Like when Arturo won’t listen to driving directions and gets our two-vehicle caravan lost on his so-called shortcuts. Whenever I’m tempted to quit, I just draw my energy into myself, make a cup of tea, and hum a helpful lullaby. If I wait for it, I’ll soon feel the love again. Life can be a roller coaster, but it’s also a carousel, going ‘round and ‘round.
When the love is good, it’s really good.
Our band is starting to get a following. They call me the Love Singer, and people swear that magical things happen to them at our shows.
I’ve seen it with my own eyes.
I sing, and the carousel keeps turning.
People who’ve lost all hope find it again.
Couples who’ve fallen out of love see each other again, underneath the wrinkles of time and hardship and kids and bills and whatever else people fight about when they ought to be trusting in love.
I sing for them all, about what I know to be true. I gather the threads that have come undone, and I tuck them back into the tapestry of life and love, where they belong. All of us, woven together, are stronger when we’re bound to each other, arms linked, hearts entwined.
Bless you, all my friends, and may you know the magic when you find it. May you never lose hold of what makes you sparkle.
Zeb, out.
* * *
We hope you enjoyed
Love Singer by Mimi Strong
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* Table of Contents *
About Last Night
Three misfit heroes hunt for ghosts in a city on the brink of destruction.
DESCRIPTION: Eli Carter is a smart guy trapped in a dead-end career. When he meets smooth-talking Khan Hart, a self-proclaimed necromancer, he's given the opportunity to become a hero.
As soon as he takes the job, Eli's life takes a turn for the paranormal. For starters, something under his bed is trying to kill him.
Now Eli must team up with Khan, face down his fears, and kick the butt of one very strange ghost.
GHOST HACKERS, A Supernatural Mystery Series, contains humor, action, suspense, mystery, advanced para-electrical technology, dire situations, mayhem, and ghosts (of course).
GENRE: Paranormal Mystery, 225 pages. Comedic with touches of horror. First in series, no cliffhanger.
WHAT READERS ARE SAYING:
"If you love quirky characters and laugh-out-loud humor in the style of Christopher Moore's grim reaper series, Secondhand Souls, you'll also love Ghost Hackers."
- Stanfield Reviews
"If you enjoyed Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, this reads and flows similarly. Clever jokes and one-liners! Can't wait for the rest of the series!"
- Sean Steier
"A seriously fun page turner. The story is fun, and the characters are well written. The blend of humor and fantasy is well balanced, and impossible to put down once you start."
- Scott Evans
"I am a total fan of Eli. I love his character and the quirks that make up his thoughts and life. He is someone that I would want to know for a long time. After I read book 2, I feel like you do when your friend or family member is on vacation. You want to know everything that is going on in their lives. I need more Eli!"
- Judy Bayberry
"5 out of 5 stars! A delightful story to enjoy reading on a dark and stormy night... I actually sniggered a few times while reading... looking forward to the next one!"
- CP Funaro
Turn the page to begin reading About Last Night or click here to return to this anthology’s Table of Contents.
About Last Night - Ghost Hackers Book 1
Chapter One
Before Eli Carter became a hero who battled ancient gods bent on destruction, he was just a delivery driver.
Like many people, he didn't choose his career. Given his odd nature, though, delivering packages throughout the decaying city seemed like his best option. Then one day, dispatch sent him to a business named Ghost Hackers.
That fateful day was today.
Eli stepped through the storefront door and found himself in geek heaven. The dim shop held rows of mismatched shelves packed tightly with old video game consoles, bulky computers, and yellowing keyboards. They were mixed in with household appliances, from electric mixing bowls to juicers.
He spotted a gaming console he’d asked to get for Christmas, nearly two decades ago. Suddenly Eli Carter was nine again. He enjoyed a brief fantasy of purchasing the system right then and there. It was a fantasy his live-in girlfriend would not approve of. Not at all.
Looking around for more treasure, he found two signs. The first was taped to an ancient-looking cash register:
CASH ONLY.
COMPLAINERS WILL BE GIVEN
SPACE RABIES.
The second was a mass-produced folk-art style sign, of a joyful child holding a cup of coffee and a kitten. The text had been altered with a felt marker to read:
UNATTENDED CHILDREN
WILL BE GIVEN
ESPRESSO AND A FREE KITTEN
SPACE RABIES.
Eli chuckled to himself. He liked this store.
A telephone began to ring in the murky distance. It was not a recorded, electronic ring, but the distinctive sound of a hammer hitting a brass bell.
Eli squinted to make out the shape of a person trotting toward the ringing phone. It was a guy, with an athletic build and light-colored hair that pointed
straight up in defiance of gravity. He glanced over to acknowledge Eli, then picked up the phone.
In a polite, meek voice, he answered, “Thank you for calling the original Ghost Hackers, where customer service is our passion. How may I help you?”
Eli busied himself by looking over the gaming consoles. Some were in mint condition, with department store price stickers still attached.
The man on the phone asked a few hushed questions, then let out a nerdy chuckle. “Sounds like you’re in quite the pickle there. Wow. I don’t know what to say, but sir, I’m just going to be honest. What we do is for entertainment purposes only. Party tricks and such. It sounds to me like you have yourselves an honest-to-goodness haunting.”
He kept pacing as he talked. The lengthy coiled cord of the phone allowed him a range of ten feet. As he listened to the caller’s responses, he picked up a staple gun and shot staples in the direction of a garbage can.
He continued in a nasally voice that belonged to a much smaller man, “Listen, I’m not allowed to do this, but the boss is away today, so it’ll be our little secret. I do know a guy who does the real deal.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “He’s kind of a necromancer slash exorcist.”
Eli’s attention, which had wandered into a fantasy about starting his own vintage game console collection, returned to the present.
Necromancer slash exorcist?
Eli listened to the man give the caller a phone number, along with a warning.
“Don’t look the necromancer directly in the eyes. Do you hear me? And don’t tell him you got the number from me. Good luck, and heaven help us all. Oh, and before you call the number, I want you to think long and hard about inviting a man like that into your life. Only call if you’re desperate, because it won’t be cheap. He prefers cash.”
He moved to stand directly over the garbage bin and shot staples straight down into the bin—dozens of them—until the stapler was empty and firing blanks. He hung up the land line phone, set the stapler on the desk, and came over to Eli.