Mirror, Mirror: Hunter's Moon
Desiree was in dire need of a distraction. She got more than she bargained for on the night of the Hunter’s Moon.
Renovating the old Victorian was a labor of love, but Desiree couldn’t work hard enough to avoid loneliness and the sexy drifter she’d hired as handyman didn’t seem interested in being handy in her bedroom.
Length: Short Story
Word Count: 10,437
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)
© Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, October 2013
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Max didn't usually resort to picking up his dates in the pasta aisle at the Pick 'N Save, but he had only been in town for a few days and already he could tell the pickings in Madison were slim. Most of the women he normally would have gone for in this town were married with families. His only other option was to date someone his own age, but he wasn't that desperate, especially since he wouldn't be staying in Madison that long.
He was, however, patient, so he spent a good minute or so watching Desiree Walker as she debated over various jars of tomato sauce. He had seen her the very first day he drove into Madison. She had been standing at the top of a ladder with her hair tied in a ponytail, trying to wrestle a clump of leaves from the gutters of an old blue and white Victorian on the edge of town.
He wasn't sure what intrigued him more -- the fact that she seemed to have a take charge kind of attitude or that, according to the friendly town folk he'd met at Madison's only dining establishment, she was trying to restore the old house into something that it resembled back in its heyday. Either way, he'd been scoping out Main Street for the past two days, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Tonight, he’d hit pay dirt.
He watched her for a few moments, chuckling to himself before selecting a jar of sauce off the shelf.
"I'd suggest this one." He held it out to her. "If you prefer a little heat, that is."
He knew it was risqué, being so forward. After all, he didn't know if she was the type of woman who would play along with his advances or be turned off by the obvious innuendo.
When Desiree looked down at the label of Hot 'n Spicy, and then back up at him and grinned, he knew she was the former.
"Do lines like that really work?" she said, obviously charmed.
Max chuckled. "You tell me."
"I'm willing to give it a try. The sauce, that is." She deposited the jar into her basket and then extended her hand, but stopped halfway, turning it over and back again. "I'd shake your hand if mine weren't such a mess."
"I don't mind." He looked down at her paint-speckled pale skin before taking her hand in his. "Max."
"Desiree, or Desi if you like."
"I do," he said. "Nice to meet you, Desi."
She nodded. "So, is this how you spend your Friday nights? Trolling around small-town grocers seeking out any damsels in distress who might be looking for a little Hot 'n Spicy?"