Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : Wayne Greenough
Word Count :22080
Publication Date :2012-03-14
Series : #
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-77111-130-0
A legend of space seeks Stormy.
Stormy knows the Phantom of Space always rescues people in need of help. Well, she can certainly pretend to have an emergency by fiddling with the marble-sized atomic pile in her scoutship. But things happen. The faked emergency becomes a real emergency. Her little ship is about to blow up. Where is the Phantom, the man she now knows she loves? Will he arrive in time to save her, or will she become nothing but star particles?
Stormy Weathers wasn’t mad. She was furious, and her ferocity manifested itself in this day’s early morning workout. Sam, her personal trainer, rushed at her, crouching low and preparing to hit her with what she knew would be his usual body slam. More often than not, the slam knocked her to the floor. It didn’t today. Inner fury slashed at her natural fairness and desire not to hurt her opponent. She dodged Sam’s movement and viciously chopped the back of his neck hard enough to knock him down. With her right foot, she kicked his ribs and he rolled over on his back. She jumped on him, raised her right fist and was seconds away from pounding him faceless, when Sam hollered.
“Stormy, I’m not the enemy!”
His words penetrated through her searing mad desire to literally clobber hell out of anybody and anything within eyesight. She stood up, shook her head, looked at Sam, and realized he wasn’t Lance, the reason for her…for her what? Hell fire, god-damn-it, for the white-hot burning anger inside her that had caused her erratic behavior bordering on temporary insanity! That’s what! Lance was the reason for her irrationality! Damn him all to hell! He was always the reason! And may he develop a pox on his miserable, sensuously wonderful feeling hide!
She removed herself from Sam and helped him up from the workout mat. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.
Stormy watched Sam as he grabbed an already sweat dampened cloth and wiped his face. “Lance as always, I suppose.”
“Come home with me, Stormy. I need you, and I would like to think that you needed me.”
Stormy liked and respected Sam, but that was all her feelings toward him would ever be. He was two hundred pounds of muscle, incredibly handsome, with black curly hair cascading to his shoulders that matched his eye color. He was thirty-five and still grieving over losing his wife in the mysterious Centauri One Starship crash that killed all onboard. Starship liners were failsafe in design, yet according to the crash investigators, Centauri One had gone full planet speed into the Ceres asteroid when jumping down from star travel speed. The crash incinerated twenty thousand passengers and crewmembers and was still being analyzed by experts.