Moon Phase

CURRENT MOON

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Sagittary - Chapter One

In celebration of "The Sagittary" being released on Kindle, I'd thought I'd post Chapter One here to hopefully entice and whet your appetite a little. Enjoy! TMS

CHAPTER ONE


A loud buzzing broke the quiet in the darkened apartment, causing Raphael to jump onto the floor with an annoyed meow. There was silence for a few moments and then the buzzing came again, this time a little longer. Tessa stirred from her sleep and sat up in bed, waiting to see if the sound she thought she heard was real or from her dream. Sure enough, the buzzing came again. Giving a yawn and a half-hearted stretch, she climbed out of bed and shuffled towards the door.
“Just a minute, I’m getting there,” she mumbled out loud. She pressed the button on the intercom next to the door.
“Who is it?” she asked in a still sleepy voice.
“UPS,” came the reply. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. It was too early in the morning for this. She pressed the entry button for the door several floors below.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door. Looking through the peephole, she gazed at the delivery guy from UPS with a bleary eye. She fumbled with the two sets of deadbolts, the lock on the door and the safety chain. Pulling the door open, she leaned up against the doorway running a hand through her tussled brown hair.
“S’up Tess?” said the UPS man with a grin. “Got a package for you.”
“Gary, do you know what time it is?” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“Sure do—it’s almost 9:30 AM—time for me to deliver this to you,” Gary said with a smile as he handed over a small package. “Looks like you just crawled out of bed.”
Tessa gave a small snigger. “Yes, as a matter of fact, Mr. Gary, I did. You know that I am not an early riser. Especially on Saturdays…”
“Yeah, I know. But someone paid to have this here to you by this morning. Sign here.”
Gary handed her the computerized clipboard and she signed her name in the little colored screen.
“Need me to spell my last name for you?” she said, teasing him.
“No Tess—I’ve delivered enough packages to you that I think I know it by now. You give any thought to my invitation to dinner tomorrow night?” he said, leaning in towards her.
Tessa looked him over and gave him a smile. He was cute but just not her type. Gary was a little on the short side and slender with blondish hair. She liked her men a little taller, bulkier and dark haired.
“I have, Gary, and I really appreciate the thought but I’ll have to take a pass. I have a lot of work to get done by Monday and the weekend is the only time I have to get through it all and spend by myself.”
“You really need to get out once and awhile,” Gary said, shaking his head. “You know what they say—all work and no play…”
Tessa laughed. “Yes, I know. You’re not the first one to hand me that line. Thanks again, Gary. I’m sure I’ll see you during the week with some more goodies.”
“OK, Tess—but if you change your mind, you’ve got my number.” Gary gave her a wave and headed back down the hallway, punching numbers into his clipboard.
“Yeah, sure…” she said as she closed the door, redoing all the locks. Raphael walked over to her and started rubbing against her legs. Tessa looked down at the black and white overweight cat.
“I know what you want,” she said, bending to rub his head. “Come on, I’ll get you some breakfast.”
Putting the package down on the small hall table, she rambled into the galley kitchen to feed the cat. Taking out a can of cat food from the cupboard, she pulled off the lid with a wrinkle of her nose. She scooped out half of the pungent contents into a small bowl as Raphael jumped onto the counter and sat patiently, watching Tessa’s every move. She slid the bowl over to the cat with a flick of her hand, who began eating it hungrily.
“And I wonder why you have a weight problem,” she said to Raphael, who flicked an ear in her direction. “I don’t know how you can possibly eat something that smells that foul.” Raphael ignored her and continued his meal. Covering the rest of the cat food with a stray piece of foil and placing it into the refrigerator, she walked back into the hallway and picked up the package.
Turning it over in her hands, it was wrapped in brown paper, about the size of a tissue box and weighed heavy to one side. There was no return address and the handwriting on the front of the parcel was small and neat. The handwritten address almost looked as if it could have been typewritten and she did not recognize the hand.
Tessa walked into her cramped living room and sat down at her desk. It was completely covered in papers and books from her job as a researcher in the Literary Department up at the University. Her area of expertise was Mythology and her favorite subject was Centaurs—so much so that one night during her wild early years she had gone out and gotten a tattoo of one placed on her upper thigh. Pushing the research books and compendiums out of the way, she put the box on the desk before her. She cut the paper with a pair of well-worn scissors and carefully unwrapped the package. There was a very plain, unexciting cardboard box underneath taped shut. Pulling the tape off the seam, Tessa caught a faint scent of lavender waft out as she opened it up.
Inside were a very old looking book and a small leather pouch. Atop these items was a brief letter, written in the same small, typewriter handwriting:

“Dear Ms. Chiron:

It is my understanding that you are an expert in the field of Mythology—in particular, Centaurs. My life is nearing its end and the time has come to pass on my knowledge to one who can be trusted. Please know that these objects are very special and very old. They have been passed down to me with the understanding that they are to be passed on to another when the time comes.

Rather than see them fall into the hands of someone who will not appreciate them for what they really are, I have been instructed to entrust them to you.

Know this: Every word that is written within the pages of the book are true; never doubt its authenticity. Take special care of what is in the pouch—it is powerful and more precious than the gold it is made of.

I know that I can trust you with these objects and can go to my grave at peace. Wear the amulet and heed its call. You have a bigger part to play in the grand scheme of things than you know of. You must move beyond your books and paper. Seek Him as you find and fulfill your destiny.

Peace and blessings upon you,

Lady N.”

Tessa re-read the letter several times before putting it down on the desk, shaking her head. She picked up the pouch, feeling the buttery softness of the leather between her fingers. Tessa undid the drawstring and allowed the contents to spill out into her hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she gazed down at a beautifully crafted figurine of a Centauress. It hung on a very long, fine chain that looked like liquid gold as it slid around in her palm. The Centauress was positioned in a strange posture for a half-woman half-horse. As it hung from its chain, the figure was standing upright on its hind-hooves, its fore hooves and her arms held in such a way that it seemed as if she was dancing with an invisible partner. Her head was thrown back in a sensual manner, her eyes closed, lips parted. Tessa stared at the necklace in her hand, her mind wondering who in the world would send her such an object of beauty. She carefully gathered up the chain and placed the necklace atop the leather pouch on the desk.
Tessa picked up the book and looked at the cover. It was definitely old—very old. If she were to take an educated guess, she would venture at least 125-150 years. The book’s cover was made of leather and sewn together in a way that hadn’t been done in centuries. She was amazed at how supple the leather still was—soft to the touch and not dry or cracked anywhere. The motif tooled into the cover was that of two women dressed in togas dancing under the watchful eye of what Tessa thought was either Bacchus or Dionysus. She carefully paged through the book with her thumb and a stifled a laugh.
The book was completely empty.
Tessa stopped here and there throughout the book and every page was blank with not a single word to be found. There were two little slips of paper tucked in at various places throughout the book, as if they were marking important passages to be read.
“Well, it’s definitely going to be hard for me to doubt the authenticity of the writings when there are none,” she said to herself. She flipped through the book once again and was about to place it back on the desk when something caught her eye. She opened the book to the inside cover and looked very carefully at the border that ran around its edge. If you looked at it straight on, it looked like a simple decorative border. But as you started to close the book and viewed it at an angle, it formed a string of words that started at the bottom edge, ran up the left outer edge of the book’s inside cover and across the top. Carefully, Tessa grabbed a notepad and pen and started writing down the words:

“If your neck be unbound, the words within will not be found.
If your neck be quite adorned, read with care and be forewarned”

Tessa looked down at what she had written. The passage was obviously pointing to the necklace that had been delivered with the book. The problem was she was having difficulty believing that the only way to read what was in the book was to wear the necklace. How in the world could that possibly be? She also didn’t like the feeling she got from the riddle—it sounded too much like a warning—that coupled with the note that came with these objects didn’t make her feel too comfortable to have them in her possession. Tessa picked up the handwritten note and read it again.

“Wear the amulet and heed its call. You have a bigger part to play in the grand scheme of things than you know of. You must move beyond your books and paper. Seek Him as you find and fulfill your destiny…”

Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? Who was she supposed to seek? Tessa put down the letter and got up from her desk rubbing the sides of her head at the temples. She paced the small room back and forth and then plopped down into her armchair. Her eyes gazed around the room looking at the pictures that lined the walls. Each and every one of them was of a Centaur—copies of pictures done by Vallejo and Botticelli, prints of friezes and statues from various museums and European gardens. She had been obsessed and enamored with the legends and myths of these half-humans since she was a young child. She could have sworn that she had actually seen a few when she was between the ages of 6 and 8; the image of one in particular had stayed with her—not in detail, but she could remember that he had been handsome with dark hair. But when she had tried to tell her mother about the beautiful creatures she saw, she always got the typical ‘mother brush off’ of “Yes, that’s very nice dear.” There was something about them that spoke to her, an emotional tie that ran deep within her very soul.
As she grew up and matured (so to speak), she became more intrigued about the romantic side of them, they becoming the center of her teen-aged infatuations. A dark and handsome Centaur with wall-to-wall rippling biceps was always the center of her imagined dreams and fantasies during those nights of self-exploration. Now as an adult she was, of course, more the wiser and used her obsession to excel at her chosen specialty.
Historically (mythologically speaking), Centaurs were known for their love of wine and the debauchery of women, their instability and their tempers. There were a few Centaurs who had been revered in Greek mythology for their kindness and wisdom. Ironically, her surname was the name of one of them—Chiron. Chiron was a wise Centaur and tutored some of the best known Greek heroes—Jason and the great Achilles among them. He was also known as a great healer.
There had been some scientific brouhaha a little while back that tried to convince the learned communities at large that there was some truth in the myths. That Centaurs, at one point in time, actually existed—that they were the result of some type of crossbreeding of man and horse. While this notion had caused a wave of excitement within her heart, her logical mind knew that this would be impossible. For one thing, genetically it was most improbable and second, it would cause the complete rewrite of Greek mythology and its explanation of how Centaurs had come about.
According to Greek mythology, King Ixion of Lapithae (Thessaly) had become so obsessed with Zeus’s wife, Hera, that he arranged a tryst with her. Zeus caught wind of the affair and shaped a cloud into the image of his wife and Ixion, being blinded by his lust, made love to the cloud-Hera. The cloud was then said to have given birth to the first Centaur, Centaurus. Centaurus then descended upon a heard of Mares and conceived the first Centaurs. It was this bloodline that apparently gave in to wine, women and debauchery.
Of course, there was the other nobler bloodline whereby Chiron was born from a Titan father and an Ocean Nymph mother. He then sired a more learned race of Centaurs—ones who were kind, wise and very helpful to man. Both were good stories, but they were just that—stories. The scientific community quickly forgot the little blurb and moved on with business.
Raphael, now finished with his foul-smelling breakfast, came into the living room and rubbed himself against her legs. Tessa absent-mindedly dropped a hand down onto the cat’s head and gave him a rub behind the ears. She looked back at the desk and the book sitting there, the necklace beside it. The sun outside had shifted around enough so that its light was now shining in through her window and was hitting the amulet, making it sparkle. She stared at it glowing in the light, becoming entranced by its properties in the sun. Faintly, she could have sworn she heard her name being whispered.

“Tessa…”

She blinked hard and shook her head as if waking from a trance. “Okay,” she said to herself. “This is way too weird. I need to find out where this package came from. Maybe that may help me figure out who sent it.”
She got up and went back into the kitchen where her phone hung on the wall. Sorting through a dish filled with business cards and other odds and ends, she found Gary’s and dialed the cell number he had scribbled on the back.
“Hell-o?” answered his cheery voice. Did he ever have a bad day?
“Gary? It’s Tessa—Tessa Chiron.”
“Hey Tess! Did you change your mind about dinner?” he asked with just a little too much hope in his voice.
“No, sorry Gary, I didn’t. I just wanted to ask a question about the package you delivered a little while ago.”
“Oh—yeah, okay. What about it?” There was now a little too much disappointment in his voice.
“Is there any way for you to tell me where the package originated from? There was no return address on the box and I’m trying to figure out who sent it to me.”
“I can check for you Tess, just hold on a second while I pull over.” In the background, she could hear the truck changing gears and the engine wind down to a slow idle.
“Tess? Just hang on a second and let me run it through the computer.”
“Thanks, Gary. I really appreciate it.”
“You could really show your appreciation and go out with me to dinner tomorrow.”
“Gary…” she said with a note of warning in her voice.
“Yeah, I know—you have work to do. Okay, it looks like it was sent from one of our drop off locations in Upstate New York.”
“Upstate? There’s no way to find out who sent this?” She was a little disappointed.
“There is no return name or address that was given. Sorry Tess.”
“Okay, thanks a lot Gary. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“No bother—I just wish you’d change your mind.”
“You never give up, do you?” she said with a laugh.
“Never!” he said with a chuckle. “I’m going to keep after you until you cave in. Take care.”
“Bye, Gary.”
She hung up the phone. Upstate. She didn’t know anyone who lived in Upstate New York. Tessa walked back into the living room, the necklace glinting, catching her eye again. A chill went down her spine. Walking over to the desk, she put the necklace back into its leather pouch and placed both the pouch and the book back into the box. There. That felt—safer.
“Might as well shower since I’m up now,” she thought and headed back into the bedroom. She pulled up the shades on the windows letting the light shine into the room. Dust motes floated up into the shafts of light as she moved through the room. Tessa grabbed a towel and went into the bathroom. Quickly doffing her T-Shirt and pajama bottoms, she climbed into the shower. The hot water felt good against her body, sending a run of gooseflesh up her legs and arms. She washed, got out, and dried off.
While she dressed, her mind kept wandering back to her mysterious package. It called to her with unspoken words. Whispered enticingly to her like a lover seducing its mate.
Who was she kidding?
She knew that her curiosity would win out in the end and decided rather than wait until the pull became unbearable, she would take the bull by the horns and would try the necklace out over coffee and a bagel. Her mind made up, she headed for the kitchen.
After fixing herself a cup of java and a whole-wheat bagel with vegetable cream cheese, she sat down at her little table-for-two by the kitchen window and pulled the items from the box. The necklace slid from the pouch like quicksilver and lay curled up in the palm of her hand. Again, she was taken by the beauty of the little Centauress. Taking a deep breath, she placed the necklace around her neck. The amulet hung down almost to her bellybutton. She sat there, expecting something to happen, but nothing did. No bells and whistles, no fireworks. Not even a single goose bump.
“You’re a complete dork,” she mumbled to herself. “What the hell did you think was going to happen?” She picked up the book and flipped through it. This time a loud gasp issued forth from her mouth. The book was now completely filled with hand-written entries, from front to back. There were several different hands, suggesting that they had been written by several different people. Tessa stared incredulously at the book in her hands, her eyes not believing what they were now seeing. Carefully, she turned to the first page where a fore note was written. The date was smeared and faded, but looked like it said 1800.

“I take quill in hand to document the astounding journey I have undertaken. Within this journal, I hope to chronicle the events that have taken place, so that She who follows in my stead can read and learn from the experiences of her predecessors. My Master has agreed that this is a good idea, but has bid me to allow an enchantment be placed upon it, lest it fall into the wrong hands as discovery could result in a great loss to all.”

Tess looked up from the book and looked at the outside cover again. This was a journal, not a book as she first thought. She continued.

“If you are reading this writing, then you have already begun your own journey—one that your feet cannot turn from. Do not fear or dread for you have been chosen for a most noble task. Seek your destiny—listen to your dreams and they will lead you to where you must go.
Peace to you,
Lady Rhianna”

Another “Lady” name. Tessa pulled out the note that had come with the parcel. This was signed by a ‘Lady “N.” Apparently ‘Lady N.’ didn’t feel the need of giving her full first name—not that it would have helped identify her. Tessa took a long sip of coffee and bit into the bagel. Taking a deep cleansing breath, she turned the page and began to read.

“My journey began at the age of 27 while traveling with my father and mother on holiday. We had decided to go through the mountains on our way to visit relatives in the Northern Territories. On one of our stops, I decided to go for a walk while Father and Mother rested. (Mother had suddenly started to complain of a headache and dizziness. Father seemed to feel it was from the long ride in the enclosed carriage.)
I picked a seemingly plain path, one that was clear cut and easy to follow. I had been walking for a little while when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of something moving just beyond the trees in the wood. I stopped and waited to see if I could spot what had been moving, praying the entire time that it wasn’t a bear or mountain lion. After several minutes, a young boy appeared from behind a large oak tree about 50 yards or so into the woods. His face was handsome, yet there was an otherworldly look about him, something that made you feel that he was not of this earth. He smiled and gestured to me to come to him. He was dressed in naught but a loincloth about his waist. I thought this was most unusual as it was spring and the air was still cool. At first, I thought him to be of a local Indian tribe, but he did not have the look of a native. I then wondered where his parents might be. He gestured again to me, but a little more avidly. Stepping off the path, I headed towards him.
“Are you lost?” I asked as I approached. He merely smiled. His eyes were a beautiful blue color, like that of the Caribbean waters. When I got close to him, he gave a little bow and took my hand, leading me deeper into the forest. When his hand touched mine, the most amazing feeling came over me. With no thought of my father or mother or any fear within me, I let myself be led by this boy, not knowing where I was being taken. It was he who first brought me to the Valley of the Centauri.”

Whoa.
Tessa dropped her hand with the book in it to the table, her mouth hanging open. Was she expected to believe there was actually a place that held a valley of Centaurs? Live ones? A chill of disbelieving excitement ran down the entire length of her spine. She picked the journal back up, reading until near 3:00pm in the afternoon when she finally put the journal down, her coffee ice cold, her bagel unfinished. She stood and stretched out her now dead-stiff muscles—her punishment for sitting on a wooden chair for nearly four hours.
According to the journal, Lady Rhianna was taken to a cave whereby she passed through, what seemed to be in our day and age, a portal or doorway to another dimension. Within that world lived not only villages of humans but a valley that held a herd of Centaurs, about 35 in number. The journal went on to say that she was introduced to their leader—or Stallion, as she had called it—and had gotten on well with them. After a while, she became concerned that her parents would miss her and attempted to leave. She was told that her parents were now long gone; that human time was not the same as their time. She refused to believe this and insisted on going home. The Stallion gave her an amulet to wear which would help her find her way back to them. The young boy led her to the portal where she stepped through and left to find her way back to the rest stop and her parents, whom by now were surely waiting for her.
Nothing seemed to look the same—the clear-cut path that she had walked on only that morning was now nowhere to be found. She wandered for hours and could find no road, no rest stop. Eventually she came across a collapsed wooden frame of a building that was completely overgrown and was horrified to find a half buried sign in the dirt that carried the faded name of the rest stop. Time, indeed, had moved mightily on. She now looked down at her body and noticed for the first time that her clothes no longer fit her properly, that her body had changed as well—she had grown older.
The same young boy appeared and gestured to her again, a smile on his face. Feeling that there was no other choice, she followed him back to the doorway and left her world behind.
The journal was sporadic and gave mundane descriptions of what Lady Rhianna did from day to day or sometimes from month to month. She lived under the Stallion’s roof and took daily strolls with him through the woods or fields. The Valley was a beautiful place—heaven on earth (or wherever it was)—almost like Eden. Although she led a quiet and idyllic life within the Valley, she felt that he kept her away from the others, almost as if to protect her from something. She did comment that there were loud and boisterous parties that occurred frequently with the villagers and frowned at the almost non-existent morals of the local women. While the Stallion never said as much, Lady Rhianna felt as if she had disappointed him in some way—that she had failed in some unknown purpose.
While her aging process was much slower in the Valley, she nonetheless grew old and the Stallion advised her that it was time to find a successor to take her place from the outside human world. After dreams and visions, he chose the new “Lady” and set about bringing her in. Lady Rhianna seemed to have no clue as to how this was done or why another was needed to replace her. Her last entry was that the new Lady had been found, but that she had not met her as of her last writing. There was nothing further of Lady Rhianna.

Tess walked out into the living room, which was now bathed in the late light of the descending sun. Raphael had found a comfortable spot on the windowsill and was in his familiar sleeping-cat pose. She held the amulet in her hand and ran her fingers lightly over the horse-half of the Centauress. If this was the amulet referred to in the journal, this piece was well over 200 years old—but looked as if it could have been made yesterday. Tess pulled the chain towards her head to take it off and place it back into its pouch, but the chain held fast at the mid-point of her face. It was as if invisible hands held it there. She let the necklace fall back to her abdomen and tried to pull it off from the back; again, it stopped halfway up her head. Tess sat down heavily in her armchair, running through all the plausible explanations as to why she could not remove such a light and fragile piece of jewelry from her neck. She tried again to remove it from her neck, even trying to break the chain but it would not budge. The necklace wasn’t coming off. A slight fit of panic started to fill and tighten in her chest as the line from the note came floating back to her:

“Wear the amulet and heed its call. You have a bigger part to play in the grand scheme of things than you know of…”

The disbelief of understanding suddenly became crystal clear to her: She had been chosen. For whatever reason—her love of Centaurs or her knowledge of them—she had been chosen. But chosen for what?
“All right, you really need to get a grip,” she said to herself trying to calm down. “There has to be a logical explanation to all of this—I just need to find it.”
Placing the necklace down inside her shirt, she stood up and went back into the kitchen to clean up her unfinished breakfast from this morning. Pulling a yogurt and a banana out of the fridge for an impromptu meal, she tucked the journal under her arm and went back to her desk. She carefully placed the old book back into its box and scoffed down her late lunch. Tessa turned her attention back to the work she had brought home from the University, some research she had promised one of the Professors by Monday. She worked steadily for another hour or so but her mind kept wandering back to the journal. Avoiding the urge to take the book from its box, she pushed herself to finish off the papers on the life of Hercules, whose wife, Tess mused to herself, had almost been raped by a Centaur. It was near 10:00 at night when she finally called it quits. Tessa gathered the paperwork together and stacked it neatly into a manila folder for delivery on Monday.
Her stomach now growling loudly from the lack of food, she grabbed her sneakers from a corner of the room and put them on. Raphael looked at her from the top of the bookcase and meowed loudly.
“I’m sorry Raph,” she said up to him, clicking her tongue. “I’ll get you something to eat in a minute.”
She finished tying her sneakers and went back into the kitchen, spilling out the remaining contents of the cat food onto a plate. After being in the fridge, it gratefully didn’t have that killer smell it had this morning. Raphael jumped up on the counter and mewed loudly, apparently not happy at having to wait this late to eat.
“Here,” she said, sliding the dish over to him. “Eat and be quiet. Me, I’m going out for pizza.”
She grabbed her jacket and threw it on. Seizing her purse, she left the apartment, headed down the stairs and out into the night.
It was one of the things she loved about living in the City—it didn’t matter what time of day or night you went out; something was always going on or was open. Other than that, it was overcrowded, loud and the skyscrapers blocked out the sky. But she had come here anyway to make her living, after being offered a job at one of the country’s most prestigious universities. Their library was world-renowned and there she could devour everything she craved about her myths and her beloved Centaurs.
Tessa walked about three blocks down to her favorite pizzeria and went inside. Vinny, the owner, was working tonight behind the counter and he gave her a smile as she came in.
“Hey, Vin. How’s it going?” she said waving to him. “Two slices and a Coke, please.”
“You got it Tess,” he said, grabbing two slices from a tray on top of the counter. “How’s my favorite bookworm tonight?” He opened the top oven and popped the slices onto the heated stone.
“Oh, she’s just peachy. I think I’ve been working too hard—needed a break and some food.”
Vinny smiled at her. “When you gonna get yourself a nice man and settle down? Pretty girl like you should have a man to look after you.”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Vinny, I told you before. When I find the right one, I’ll settle down. For now, I’m glad I have time to myself.”
He let out a laugh as he filled a cup with Coke and handed it to her.
“That’ll be $8.25 total.”
Tessa handed him the money, and went and sat down at a table by the window. While she waited for the slices to come out of the oven, she watched as people passed by the window but her mind wandered once again to the journal and the possibility of the Valley’s actual existence. She had a friend who was a Physicist in the Science Department of the University who might be able to answer some questions for her. The trick was to ask about it without making it seem like she was nuts.
Vinny brought over her slices and went back to his counter. She sprinkled salt and garlic powder over the pizza, folded the first slice in half lengthwise, and then took a big bite. She didn’t realize just how hungry she was until she started eating and before she knew it, the pizza was history. She sucked down the last of the soda, grabbed the paper plate, and threw them into the garbage.
“Good night, Vinny,” she yelled over her shoulder as she pushed the door open. Vinny with a phone glued to his ear waved a good night to her.
Tessa walked back toward the apartment, went upstairs and inside. Raphael came padding over to her and rubbed her legs.
“Missed me already?” she said bending down to rub his head. “I was only out for about a half hour. What are you going to do when I’m gone?” She stopped rubbing his head and stood up. Why did she just say that? She had no plans to go anywhere. She shook her head and hung her jacket up on the wall hook. Locking the front door and shutting off the lights in the living room, she took the journal from its box and headed into the bedroom. Tessa placed it on the nightstand and changed into her T-Shirt for bed. She brushed her teeth and unbraided her long brown hair, brushing it out until it shone. She had decided to let her hair grow last year, after having it cut short for the past five. It had grown in pretty quickly and was now past her shoulders. For some reason, she got more dates with longer hair than she did when she had short hair. Men and their penchant for long hair on women—go figure. For some reason, they had all been one-night dates, none of them interesting her in the least. They were all—well—boring.
She flipped off the bathroom light and climbed into bed, sitting up against the headboard. She stuffed her pillow behind her and grabbed the journal, no longer able to resist its silent and persistent call.
Picking up where she had left off, the next entry was by a ‘Lady Elaine’ and was Lady Rhianna’s successor. Lady Elaine did not write much into the journal, but did indicate that the Centaurs’ numbers were starting to diminish and that her Sire (her term for the Stallion) had indicated that a “Time of Foaling” would soon be approaching. She gave no other explanation as to what this was (although Tessa guessed it must have been a way to replenish their herd) and again her life, while idyllic, was nothing spectacular to speak of. She hinted that her Sire was in his later stages of life and that there was talk of his son becoming his successor. Her fate ended in the same way as Lady R, with the search for another human woman to replace her in her old age. Lady E was fortunate enough to meet this one and indicated that she seemed to be “over-exuberant” and “had no pride.” What this meant Tessa could only guess as there were no further entries by Lady E.
The next entry was made by a “Lady Collette” and was the longest of all her contributions to the journal. She only had four passages in the journal and was bookmarked by one of the pieces of paper.
Lady C apparently enjoyed the bawdy side of Centaur life, having written in her first passage about the “wonderful parties” and “unabashed love-making” enjoyed at these soirees. Her Sire apparently was not amused, wanting her for himself only. Tessa wondered with amusement at how the act of lovemaking with a Centaur exactly went about. They must weigh close to what a horse actually weighs and she just couldn’t picture a relatively small, fragile human woman lying on her back waiting for her Centaur lover to make his move. She turned the page with a giggle and a smile on her face.
The following entry announced that her Sire had gotten her with child and that he was looking forward to the birth of their son. Short and sweet.
The next entry was a serious one and was the one that was marked with the slip of paper, apparently by Lady N.

“There has been a terrible crime committed and the Centauri are up in arms. A small golden idol of the Mother Centauress has been taken from my Sire’s house—from his very own altar. It is about the size of a man’s fist and very primitive in shape having no detail to it at all.
She has the four legs and body of a horse with the torso of a woman with large breasts and her arms outstretched over her head. I am told that this idol carries the power to bestow fertility (among other powers) upon the Centaurs and their women. Without it, they fear they will not be able to produce offspring to keep their race alive. They do not know who stole the idol but from the dreams my Sire has had, he knows it has left the Valley and has entered my human world. The statue must be returned.”

Tessa laid the journal down for a moment and rubbed her eyes. She looked at the clock on the nightstand and the LED read 12:14 AM. At some point, Raphael had jumped up onto the bed, curled up and gone to sleep.
She re-read the last entry. The description of the idol seemed very familiar to her. The University has a collection of primitive art, both out on display in the library and in its storage rooms. She remembered distinctly there were several pieces that were Centaur-like in design. She would have to take a look on Monday. Since the entry was marked for her, it was obvious this was something they (whomever they were) wanted her to pay attention to. She left the bookmark in place.
Tessa finished reading the last entry, which was written in a very weak hand and had indicated that although her son was delivered healthy, he died a few days later. She herself did not fare well during the delivery and despite the healing powers of the Centauri, feared she would be dead within the week. Her Sire blamed the terrible outcome on the missing statue of the Centauress. The search for a new human woman had begun.

Tessa sat for a few moments thinking over the entries from these three women. Something about the dates and the ages did not sit right with her. If her calculations were correct, or even close, these three women had to cover at least 143 years in human time, but yet all three apparently lived with the same Sire. Assuming each one lived to an age of around 70—with the exception of Lady C who died after childbirth—the time made no sense. Tessa went back to Lady Rhianna’s first entry whereby she was warned that their time was not like human time. But it also said that their age process was slowed down while in the Valley. Tessa shook her head, confused. If their aging process was slowed down in the Valley, these women should have lived to almost 100 or possibly more of our human years—making the time span 300+ human years. This put the story of Rip Van Winkle to shame.
Tessa also couldn’t figure out why it was so important to the Centauri to bring in a woman from the human world, when it was obvious they didn’t need to. It also suddenly struck her if this was one of the reasons why women went missing and were never found again—they had been taken from this world and brought through to another. The journal had indicated that there were villages of humans (or what she assumed were human-like) who had women within their midst. Why not use them to have children? Had the numbers of “human” women there gone so low that interbreeding was now becoming a problem? Perhaps this was why they were not successful in bringing forth live offspring. But Lady C was a human woman and while she had brought forth a baby successfully, the poor soul did not live.

Tessa leaned her head back on the pillow that was propped up behind her and let out a long breath, her mind swirling with information and questions. She was almost done with the journal and was debating whether or not to finish it. It was already after midnight, and thank God it was Sunday tomorrow, so she could sleep in. With that last thought settling it, she opened the journal to the next set of entries.

The successor to Lady C was none other than Tessa’s friend, Lady N—but this time she actually had given her first name—Nia. The name had no meaning for Tessa—it didn’t even sound familiar. Lady Nia arrived apparently shortly after Lady C’s death and her first entry was very somber. She said that the Centauri were losing heart and that there were rumblings amongst the herd that their end was drawing near. Her Sire, Minos, (this was the first time he had actually been named in the journal) was also growing very old and nearing his time to die. The warriors in the herd pressed Minos to allow them to go into the human world and bring back dozens of women so that they could assure the continuance of their race. Apparently, Minos was against this and refused to let them go. (Tessa wondered how a Centaur could possibly cross over into the human world without being seen or noticed.) Minos announced that his son would become his successor and rule over the Valley. Lady N indicated that Minos’s son was young, strong, and very intelligent. Minos’ son convinced the warrior Centauri to wait until he took power, that he would find a way to solve the pending problem. Lady N also indicated that Minos’s son possessed a far greater gift of prophecy and foresight than his father did and was born with a great wealth of knowledge and history about their own race.
Lady Nia continued to live with Minos until his death. He died on a dreary day in late spring. She wrote that she had never seen anything like the funeral that was held for the great Centaur. His age was 270 in Centaur years. A great funeral pyre was built on a large stone platform in the middle of the Valley, where the forbears of these great beings went to their maker before them. For days before the actual burning of his body, vast offerings of food and flowers were placed around the body by Centauri and humans alike. His body was adorned with a deep blue silken toga, which wound gracefully around his human-half. The night of the pyre, Lady Nia came forward and kissed the forehead of her beloved Sire. Minos’s son lit the fire under his father’s corpse and stood guard over the body as it burned, flanked by two human Centurions holding long spears. Wailing and lamentations filled the night air. As the body burned, the Centaurs came forth, one by one, and cutting a length of hair from their tails, tossed it onto the pyre. Lady Nia said she had never felt such deep sorrow in her life.
When the fire was finally out the next day, the ashes were gathered and handed to Minos’s son, who brought them to one of their sacred rivers, scattering them over the surface. He then returned to take his father’s place as Stallion and leader of the herd.
Lady Nia waited for him to come, kneeling down in the center of the main room of the house, bowing her head down to the floor in recognition of his new position. When he finally came and stopped in front of her, she reached out a hand and touched his fore hoof. He recognized her by touching her head and she stood, looking up into his eyes. She asked him for permission to continue to live under Minos’s roof, which he granted as a last favor to his father. But he also told her that his search for a new human woman would begin immediately, since she was not his. Lady Nia told him she understood completely and returned to her rooms.
Lady Nia continued to write in several entries that Minos’s son was almost fanatical about finding the right human woman. He had many visions as to whom or where she was and it took much longer than he thought to find her.

“It is now my turn to pass on these objects and knowledge to you, Lady Tessa, for you have been chosen by my Master to be my successor.”

Tessa stopped reading in her tracks and her heart did a couple of flips inside her chest. She was actually named inside this journal—a journal that was over 200 years old. Her initial suspicions were now confirmed, but what to do about it? How does one go about finding a portal into another dimension?
“Wait a second,” she said to herself. “Let’s get a grip, girl and take a reality check. You’re starting to sound like you really believe all this.” She ran a hand through her hair, letting out another long breath. She went back to the journal and the last entries which held the second piece of paper, book-marking the page.

“What you need to know you have read up to this point. Any further information that you will need to know will be given to you once you are brought through. I cannot tell you what my Master wants from you, or how he will get you here. I just know that he will do what he needs to do.
There are some things I wish I had known before I was brought here and think that the following notations will be of help to you and your initial entry into the Valley.
The Centauri are a race of ancient beings, having been around since early Greek times—ancient Greek times in fact, when the Gods still meddled with the lives of men. They are a proud race, albeit one given to questionable morals. Oh how they do love their revelry and women! Loving a woman is as important to a Centaur as food and water, and they do it every chance they get. But they have been good to me and I have no regrets about being brought here.
The following are some things that may assist you when you meet my Master (or any of the Centauri) for the first time:

When meeting a Centaur of rank (such as my Master) for the first time, I would highly suggest that you assume a most respectful posture. When you hear the Centaur approaching (which is not hard to do as his hooves will echo on the marble floors), kneel and bow down, placing your hands on the floor. Bow your head down onto your hands and do not move or look up. When the Centaur approaches and has come to a halt in front of you, touch his hoof with your hand. This is the highest sign of respect you can give them. (I only do this with my Master. Any other Centaur I simply bow.) Do not do anything until you have been instructed to do so. Do not look up, sit up, stand up, or speak. Always avert your eyes and do not look at him until he has given permission to do so.

The Centauri are very honest and blunt to a fault about many things. Do not take offense, as they do not mean it as such. They are very literal—therefore, be sure to answer any questions truthfully and with clear answers. The worst thing you can do to a Centaur is lie. Honesty is always the best approach.

There are other things that they do that are odd or strange to our way of thinking—things that border on the magical. Keep in mind that they are an ancient race with ancient ways.

If you are ever told to ‘avert your eyes,’ you will know that you have offended or angered a Centauri. It is best to assume the ‘respectful posture’ and offer apologies for whatever the offense. If your apology is accepted, he will come and place a hand upon your head. This is their way of saying they forgive you.

I feel compelled to make a note about their ‘stomping.’ This is an action that is done quite often and must be taken in the context of the situation at hand. A stomp of a hoof can mean anything from excitement, joy, anger, impatience or a challenge. It can be done in anticipation of something. I always noticed that Minos would stomp whenever I accepted his offer to bathe with him. (Something he enjoyed immensely.) So just try to determine what the stomp is for by what is going on at the moment.

With that, my dear Lady Tessa, I bring my portion of this journal to an end. Until the day we meet, and I know we will, blessings and peace be upon you and do not fear the path your feet have been placed upon.”

Tessa snapped the journal closed with a quiet thud. She stared at the sleeping form of Raphael at the foot of her bed, his chest rising and falling with his breathing. Dear God, it all sounded so real, so believable. She put the journal on her nightstand and rubbed her face with her hands. The clock now read 2:06 AM and she was absolutely exhausted—not only from the late hour but from the journey her mind had taken all day. She turned off the light and slid down under the blankets, rearranging her pillows around her head. She slipped off into sleep almost immediately.

Copyright 2007 by T. M. Sulsona. All Rights Reserved.

Monday, June 22, 2009

"The Sagittary" is now available on Kindle!!


Happy June!

I don't know about where you live, but here in NJ we are experiencing the wettest June on record. Not that I mind the cooler weather, but I'm starting to grow mold in places I really don't want to talk about! Sheesh! Enough already!!!

I'm excited to advise that "The Sagittary" is now available in eBook format on Kindle!! Thanks to my brother in law, Chris, the 700+pp manuscripts is now a whopping 1,000+pages eBook! And the price is much more easier on the pocketbook than the hardcopy. (Unfortunately, I have no say over the pricing...that's all the publisher's domain. I am thinking of cutting about 200 pages from the story to allow it to drop down into the more acceptable price range. So for those of you who've purchased the book already, be glad you own the 'unabridged' version! *snort*)

Some updates:
The edits on "Daughter of the Aire" are moving along. I'm hoping that we can get that one out by the end of the summer.

I'm currently working on Venom's story, working title is currently "The Awakening." I've done a render of the leader of the Colubrii and have posted him above for your viewing pleasure. He is one sexy alpha male and I can't wait for you guys to meet him. He'll have you writhing in pleasure....*snicker*

Let's see...what else. I've put up some new stuff I've designed at CafePress (Link is on the left); we're still looking for recipes at THE KEEP for our cookbook. Proceeds from the cookbook will benefit the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation. While you're there, peruse some of the stories, poems and literature posted by our talented members. Or just drool over the loverly eye-candy posted in our Ye Olde Candy Shoppe. Just be sure to bring a towel. *winks*

I've begun Nalini Singh's Psy-Changeling series, finished with the first book, "Slave to Sensation." Lucas was incredibly sexy and Sascha was his perfect match. The book moved along quickly and was a really great read. I've now moved onto the second in the series, "Visions of Heat," which is Vaughn and Faith's story.

Well, I think that's it for now. Hope you all are enjoying your first month of summer. Best wishes and happy reading!

TMS

Monday, June 8, 2009

"Ashes of Midnight" by Lara Adrian

God I love this series.

The latest installment from Lara Adrian is right on parr with the others in this series: Wonderful. Andreas Reichen is hell bent on revenge for the massacre at his Darkhaven. Claire is the love of his life from his past. Both meet up and sparks literally fly. *sigh* This book is engrossing, fast-paced and hot. I absolutely LOVE the males of the Breed.

If you haven't read any of these books, do yourself a favor and pick up the first one. You won't stop until you've blown through them all:

Kiss of Midnight
Kiss of Crimson
Midnight Awakening
Midnight Rising
Veil of Midnight
Ashes of Midnight

Next one on tap for Ms. Adrian: Shades of Midnight due out in January 2010. I'm so there.

TMS

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