Nancy Madore - Enchanted Dreams - Erotic Tales Of The Supernatural

She moved carefully, not really out of fear as much as instinct to be cautious. She tentatively moved some of the branches aside to get a better view, but then abruptly jumped back. The hair was attached to a skull! Just as Catherine had instantly recognized the overabundance oflife stirring all around her in the forest, she now instantly perceived that life had gone from here. A haunting sadness welled up in her. She moved the branches away again and carefully brushed aside some of the fallen leaves and other debris. There was another brief moment of a kind of general, vague recognition, but Catherine was far too detached from the faded thing disintegrating into the earth to actually own it. She shook off the discomfiting stirrings. But she could not help feeling a powerful compassion for the woman who had died there.

Looking up, Catherine noticed that dusk was coming. For the first time since that day when she had first discovered the enchanted forest, she was afraid to be wandering alone in the dark. Yet she was hesitant to leave the poor girl alone. Acting on instinct, she carefully replaced the leaves and brush over the body, mindful this time to cover the woman’s hair, as well. Next she darted off to a nearby field to collect a handful of wildflowers. Uttering a small prayer for the woman’s soul, Catherine placed the flowers on top of her leafy grave. With one last pause, she got up, brushing the leaves and the strange melancholy off her. Then, with the adroitness of a spirit, or a fairy, she flitted out over the flowery field, fluttering toward home and the pleasures that awaited her.

Everything was going wrong and now, on top of everything else, she was late. Maryanne skittered over the wet cobblestones, rushing to get to the restaurant. She would be a mess by the time she arrived. But she’d had to drive four blocks away just to find parking!

Why was she even bothering? She tried to silence the pessimistic voice in her head but it would not relent. It reminded her that she had no reason to expect this guy to be different from any of the others. There was nothing special or noteworthy about him that made it worth the effort. Even by online-dating standards he had offered little intrigue, and with all the embellishing that takes place in preparing one’s online profile, that was rather dismaying. She tried to recall what prompted her to go out with him, and then she remembered that he had caught her in a weak moment when, feeling unsettled and lonely, she suddenly longed for a normal life with an average guy. So here she was, on a Friday night, rushing around to meet this average or—more likely—less-than-average guy.

She took a deep breath and tried once again to assume a positive outlook. At least she was getting out of the house. It could be interesting. She might as well try to have a good time. There didn’t have to be any entanglements. She couldn’t hide forever.

And perhaps this one would work out differently. But she couldn’t count on that and she knew it.

She dashed through the restaurant doors and found him waiting for her. Just as the little voice in her head had predicted, he looked nothing like his picture and yet she recognized him instantly. Something in his present look was more like what she would have expected anyway. Within their casual online correspondence, she had detected an inherent gentleness, a kind of considerateness in his demeanor that had initially captured and ultimately held her interest. While these qualities had not been evident in his picture, she recognized them in his face, and her reluctance eased up the tiniest bit. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she murmured.

Dan stood up from the bench where he had been waiting and smiled warmly at Maryanne. Clearly he had embellished his height in his online profile, as well. She resented this; she could have at least worn lower heels to minimize the difference had she known. She tried to hide her annoyance. Yet he did not seem to mind so much; she noticed that his eyes were looking over her slender form with approval.

“Maryanne? You’re so much more beautiful than your picture!” he said earnestly. Then he blushed slightly, as if embarrassed by this outburst. She had the impression that his comments, at least, were spontaneous and genuine. “Don’t worry about being late,” he said good-naturedly. “I figured you were having a tough time finding parking. I did get us a table, though.”

He led her to their table and pulled out her chair for her. “Wow,” he remarked as he sat down across from her, “those are some guns you’re packing there!”

Maryanne drew back, startled, and Dan quickly gestured to her arms, once again embarrassed. “I mean, you must work out,” he clarified.

“Oh…yes!” she said with a laugh, feeling the tension leave her. “I practice yoga,” she explained.

“Yoga’s quite the workout,” he surprised her by saying. “I tried it myself a few times, but I found it difficult to hold many of the poses. I get distracted too easily. Let’s see, what was that one? You stand sort of crouched with your hands high up in front like the bug…the locust, was it?” He put his hands up in front of him in an exaggerated simulation of the pose.

“The praying mantis,” she corrected, laughing.

“Yeah,” he agreed amiably. “That’s it. Nearly snapped my hamstrings trying to do that one.”

Maryanne tried to imagine this stocky, seemingly unsophisticated guy attempting yoga and suddenly burst into loud laughter at the thought of it. But when she recovered, she changed her tune, eyeing him sideways and saying, “Actually, you look like you could handle it.” And it was true. Although he was a burly man, she could see at a glance that he was all muscle.

“Well, I might have exaggerated,” he conceded. “I actually only strained them a little.”

“That seems a bit more plausible…” she teased, surprised to find that she was flirting with him. The realization made her suddenly shy, and she tilted her head slightly downward in a reserved gesture she was in the habit of assuming to conceal her face. She could feel her cheeks growing warm and knew she was blushing. If Dan noticed her discomfort, he was considerate enough to pretend that he did not.

“I’m built mostly for hard work,” he continued with a matter-of-fact shrug. “Like an ox. That’s how I manage to keep in some kind of shape. But you look like you live at the gym.”

“Not really,” she said, tilting her head a little bit more. But she was pleased.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m gushing here. I’m really not obsessed with appearances. It’s just that you’re so toned and in amazing shape. I have to admit I find that attractive. Even your cheekbones. Wow!” He gestured around her face without touching her. “It’s like they’re chiseled out of marble or something.” It was an earnest compliment, and it wasn’t the first time Maryanne had heard it. But whenever anyone mentioned her amazing bone structure, all she could think of was the way the boys in grade school used to tease her, calling her “alien” because of the way her large eyes and high cheekbones dominated her face. If only she could get those children’s cruel voices out of her head.

Dan casually reached over and brushed aside the loose hair that had fallen down over her face. From anyone else, this would have been too forward a gesture for Maryanne, but Dan did it with such simple aplomb that she hardly noticed that he had done anything at all.

“So what are you hungry for?” he asked, turning his attention to his menu.

“I don’t know,” she said disinterestedly. She picked up her menu, trying to think of something clever to say.

“I chose this restaurant because their food is exceptional. You mentioned in your profile that you were a finicky eater.”