• Awesome Authors Archive
By Piers Anthony
Chapter One: Doris
Doris knew that look: her son had something on his mind,
and he would not relent until it was settled. He was four years old, handsome
and imperious, with a certain literal magic. Worse, she was constitutionally
unable to resist him. “What is it, son?”
“The other kids in nursery
school have moms and dads. Who is my dad, and why isn't he around?”
Doris glanced at Nerine, who stood behind the boy. The nude nanny spread her
hands apologetically. She must have tried to deflect the question, but Neris
would not be denied. He had a remarkable vocabulary and knew the verbal
tricks others tried to use for evasion. There was no choice except to tackle
it directly. “I will tell, you, son, but you must not tell anyone else.”
“Why not?” he demanded, only slightly shy of belligerence.
“Because they will laugh at you and call you a liar.”
“I'm not a
liar!” he said angrily.
“I know, son, but they will not believe it if
you tell them. It is better to avoid that hassle.”
“What, is he a king
It had to come out. “Not exactly, Neris. He is a god.”
“What's a god?”
Just so. “A god is a supernatural being, a person
with powers beyond the normal ones. You might call them magic. Your father is
a god of the deep sea. He has to stay there.”
The boy digested that.
It was evidently more of an answer than he had anticipated. He looked at
Nerine. “You know about this?”
“Yes, Neris. He is my father too. I am
your half sister.”
That hardly fazed him. “You're magic too?”
“Of course. That's why regular folk can't see me. Only you and your mother.”
Neris nodded, not completely surprised. “That's why you have such good
luck. It's magic.”
“Yes. Father sent me to take care of you so you
wouldn't get in trouble.”
He scowled. “You always know what I'm
“Of course. I can read your mean little mind.”
knew from experience that he couldn't get around her. He returned his
attention to Doris, who was easier to get around. “What's his name?”
“If he can't leave the sea, and you can't leave the land,
how did you meet?”
Nerine's pretty mouth made a silent O of
appreciation. That was a sharp question.
“That is a special story,”
Doris said carefully. “There are adult elements. You may not be ready for it
The boy's jaw set firmly. “I am ready. Tell me.”
exchanged a look with Nerine. She was stuck for it. “I suspect it is time. I
will tell you, while Nerine gets you ready for dinner and bed.”
It was a scene from the Tennessee Waltz. Doris and her sweetheart were at
the dance, and she ran into an old girlfriend. She introduced the two, and
they danced together, beautifully, and suddenly Doris knew that all was lost.
Sure enough, her friend stole her sweetheart from her. It wasn't intentional,
and both of them were apologetic, which didn't make it any easier: it was
instant love and Doris was the ex. All she could do was wish them well and go
home to morn alone.
Her life was like that: she was always the
bridesmaid, never the bride. The key breaks always went against her. She
gazed in the mirror and saw a distressingly average woman in her early
twenties, with dull brown hair worn short, gray eyes, and an expression of
vague regret. The kind who generally escaped serious notice. She had taken a
temporary job at a minimum-wage fast food outlet because it was within
walking distance, and then never found a permanent job to move up to. She had
dated a reasonably handsome man because he asked, but before things got
sufficiently serious had lost him to her more glamorous friend. Ever thus:
that was her motto. Now all she could do was carry on and hope faintly for
better luck in the future. Not that luck had ever been much of a friend.
In one sense it seemed like eternity, and in another a minute; actually
it was about a year. She heard a distant kind of music, an unfamiliar yet
wholly compelling melody. It called her with its eerie seduction, beckoning
her to some distant rapture, the kind she seldom if ever aspired to. “Do you
hear that?” she asked a neighbor, who looked at her blankly. Apparently it
was for her alone. Doris—come to me. Come to me.
This was crazy. She
had never been subject to hallucinations or eerie voices. She was a dull
practical woman with no interest at all in the supernatural. So was this the
onset of a mental disease? But she felt entirely rational in every other
Doris—come to meee. The thing was preternaturally beautiful,
in its annoying fashion. And how did it know her name? This made no sense at
She checked her ears, thinking there could be a receiving device
in there somehow, but there was none. Meanwhile the summons was growing more
pressing. It was directional; she knew exactly which way to go. Come to
“Come to whom?” she inquired grammatically. There was no
answer, just the intensifying repetition. As with an itch that had to be
scratched or a cough that had to be coughed, she had to oblige it or
figuratively drag her feet as it hauled on her spirit with increasing vigor.
Worse, it wasn't limited to her ears; there was an increasing urgency in her
groin, as though she had to urinate, or something.
Or something? That
was a sexual feeling, as if she were a bitch in heat, needing fulfillment by
any male who happened by. Outrageous; she was a virgin with no particular
hankering for that sort of thing. Yet it persisted, increasing.
she being summoned to a mating, like an animal? That infuriated her, yet the
need for that kind of release was growing. Disgusting! She was no horny male
to be foolishly lured to her death by the sexual promise of a siren.
She tried to resist its summons, but the urge overpowered her will and she
had to follow it, for good or ill. She hastily packed some food and a change
of socks and panties, locked the house, and set off afoot, guided by that
imperative song. It would have been much faster by car, but she couldn't
afford even a rattletrap. Fortunately the ocean shore was not far distant,
and by nightfall she was crossing the beach and contemplating the sea. The
summons came from there. Was she to dive in, heedless of her clothing? The
song still called, and her groin still hungered. She cursed the need, but
hardly hesitated. She doffed her outfit and hid it under a deck chair
together with her purse and bag. That was hardly safe, even at night, but her
urgency prevented any more careful preparation. She contemplated the dark
water, took a deep breath, then waded into the chill water nude. There was a
certain illicit thrill to her naughtiness, together with nervousness about
the deeps; she wasn't that good a swimmer. What about sharks? Deadly
jellyfish? But none of it held her back long; the song overpowered
hesitation. She swam past the moored boats and into the bay. What now? Was
she to be an unexplained suicide?
A wind stirred, then a current. In
moments she was swept into a developing whirlpool where none should be. It
sucked her down, down, into the depths of the sea.
bemusedly that she should have been terrified, but she wasn't; the song
sustained her equilibrium. She should have been drowning in the horrible
swirl, but she wasn't. She was merely riding it down, faster and faster, into
the dark depth. She knew she was finally getting where she was going, and
that her awful need would soon be somehow sated.
The tornado rush of
it carried her spinning to the bottom, and abruptly dissipated, leaving her
in a well of air in the water, with the sides rising vertically into the
darkness above. The whirlpool had been frozen in place. This was not
credible, but she realized belatedly that this must be a dream; credibility
did not count.
She stood before a glassy portal. She might have paused
to consider whether to pass through it, but the song in her mind and groin
was too potent to resist. She stepped into it, and lo! there was pleasantly
She appeared to be in a private lady's suite, replete with
bed, dressing table, chairs, clothes closet, and bathroom. There were
feminine curtains on the windows. What was this doing down here under the
Doris jumped. She hadn't noticed the
lovely woman in one of the chairs. “Uh, hello, I'm sure. If I may ask--?”
“Certainly. I am Doris.”
“But that's my name!”
shook out her sea-green tresses. “And thereby hangs a relevant story. You
have much to learn before you proceed to your tryst with my husband.”
“Tryst!” Doris exclaimed. “Husband? I have no intention of doing any such
thing with anyone's husband!” Yet here she stood, naked, with burning groin.
“Not as long as you remain here in my boudoir, where the summoning song
is largely nullified.”
Doris realized that her desperate urgency had
abated significantly when she entered the suite. She was able at last to
relax. That was a phenomenal relief. “If that is your doing, you have my
appreciation. You can't imagine what I have been experiencing.”
indeed I can,” the woman said. “Every time Nereus sings, I am compelled to go
generate another daughter. I am fed up with it, but can't resist his magic.
Unless I remain here, which I have spelled to block out that particular
sound.” She took a deep breath, which stretched her laced bodice. She was
quite well endowed.
“Nereus?” Doris asked blankly. She realized in the
background of her attention that though she remained bare, she wasn't cold;
the boudoir was comfortable.
“My lascivious spouse. That is part of
his magic: the male siren song. His lust cannot be denied, as you may have
Doris worked it out. “Your husband sings, and it makes women
desperate to—to oblige his lewdness? That's what I felt? What brought me here
into the sea?”
“You have it, my dear. The women who can hear him, at
any rate. Now may we talk?”
“I think we had better. I want you to know
that I have no intention of—of indulging your husband. In fact I wouldn't
have come here, had I had any choice. But that infernal song--”
“Exactly. You had no choice. Please, dear, sit down so we can converse
relaxed. There is so much to cover.”
Clearly that was the case. “You
said your name was Doris. The same as mine. Is that coincidence?”
at all. Let me explain.”
“By all means.” Doris was now more than ready
“I am Doris, a minor sea goddess, daughter of the titans
Oceanus and Tethys, who are siblings.”
“Brother and sister? But--”
“Exactly,” Doris repeated. “Also husband and wife. They are two of the
children of Uranus, god of heaven, and Gaea, goddess of the earth. My
grandparents by both lines. Such intermarriage is common among the gods, as
they dislike diluting their godliness by indulging with mortals. Unless a
mortal is a particularly attractive girl, or there is some other reason. You
of the mortal persuasion may find this awkward, but we do not.”
was stunned. “You—you really are gods? Supernatural creatures? I find it hard
to believe that gods even exist, let alone that they openly practice incest.”
“It becomes worse. Uranus was not only Gaea's husband, but her son. She
hated him, and finally plotted with their youngest son Cronus, my uncle, to
attack him, castrate him, and dethrone him. So we practice patricide too. Not
that I approve; I have not spoken to Cronus in centuries.”
But you look my age.”
“Gods don't age the way mortals do, dear. We
appear the way we choose to appear.”
“I--see,” Doris said, amazed.
“Not that we don't have our problems. That is where you come in.”
“I would much prefer to stay out,” Doris said. “You gods evidently play your
games with a hard ball.” Or balls, she thought, remembering the bit about
The goddess smiled as if picking up the gruesome pun. “We
do. But you have little choice, now that you have been summoned; Nereus will
not let you escape unplumbed. We must merely minimize the damage.”
Doris felt a cold chill despite the warmth of the boudoir. “Damage?”
“His lust is not gentle. I as a goddess can handle it, but you are mortal.
You are in for quite a stretching.”
Doris shuddered, not wanting even
to imagine it. “He's your husband. Surely you don't want me in his bed. Can't
you sneak me out of here so we can avoid this whole awful scene?”
could, dear, but he would only sing you back to him. You will have to go
through with it.”
Doris knew she was grasping at straws. “His
family—they can't approve of his being unfaithful to you. Maybe if we plead
The goddess shook her head. “I gave you my lineage. Now
let me mention his, so you can appreciate why that is not feasible. Nereus'
parents are Pontus, a god of the sea, and Gaea, goddess of earth.”
“Gaea! But isn't she in your own lineage?”
“Yes, she is my
grandmother. But also Nereus' mother and grandmother, by the god of the sky
Aether, who is the son of Chaos, the origin of everything.” The goddess
smiled. “She gets around.”
“Doesn't that make you Nereus' cousin?”
“Or closer, yes. So you see, I can't try to deny Nereus without annoying
Gaea, which would not be wise. She is a senior goddess, capable of seducing
any male she chooses, god or mortal, and we lesser goddesses find it
expedient to step quietly around her.”
Doris found the godly genealogy
dizzying, but saw the point: she was stuck for it. So she changed the
subject. “You said that our names—that's not a coincidence.”
and I think that now you will be able to appreciate the relevance. When I was
young and virginal, my uncle Cronos, the same one who usurped the throne of
his father, made a play for me. He was not subtle about it.”
on his niece?”
“Gods lust after any skirt they discover, especially
young sightly ones. Naturally I rejected him, and threatened to bite off his
member if it came within range of me. That annoyed him, and he cursed me to
bear only girls. I think it was in his mind that this might provide him more
virginal females to seduce, in due course. I could not nullify the curse, and
indeed, I have born Nereus fifty girls. He is beginning to catch on. Fearing
that he would leave me, I went to my aunt Rhea.”
is another titan, eldest of them all, the sister and wife of Cronos, mother
of Zeus and a spate of other gods. She may not be as powerful as Gaea, but
she is nevertheless formidable.” The goddess smiled briefly. “She was not
entirely pleased to learn of her husband's attempted infidelity with me.”
Doris grimly echoed her smile. “I believe I understand her view.”
“Rhea could not undo the curse on me, or confront Cronus directly, but she
helped me in another manner: she laid a geis on Nereus.”
“A geis.” She pronounced it gaysh. “In mortal terms it is an obligation
of honor, such as a knight refusing to flee before a threat no matter how
dire. In immortal terms it becomes magical. The geis prevents Nereus from
taking the virginity of anyone but Doris, and of course he would never touch
a woman used by someone else. Even male gods do have certain standards. He
can no more break that than you can withstand his song.”
brightened. “And my name is Doris. I'm a virgin.”
“There was a
loophole,” the goddess agreed. “It never occurred to us that there would ever
be any Doris but me. But we weren't thinking of the mortal realm. Now the
same song that compels me also compels you; it is audible only to virgins
“Virgins? But you said you have borne fifty children.”
The other Doris smiled. “My virginity is automatically restored after
each birth. It's a goddess thing.”
Just so. Gods evidently did have
different standards. “I'm sorry. If I had known, I would have taken care of
that detail and eliminated my eligibility.” Though she had no idea with whom,
given her history.
“Naturally you didn't know. But that is only part
of it. Nereus very much wants to sire a boy. That is the root of his
disenchantment with me. He intends to do that with you.”
“But I don't
want to do it with him!” Doris wailed.
The goddess shook her head.
“This is an instance wherein you have no choice in the act, only in the
manner of its execution.”
“That doesn't seem like much of a loophole.”
“It will do. Once he sires a boy, Nereus' ire at me should abate and we
can be friends again.”
“You are not friends with your husband?”
“Not at present.”
“But then why does he keep compelling you
“Lust is not friendship, dear. It's a need. He curses me as
he inseminates me.”
Doris gazed at her a moment, appalled. “I'm
“Do not be concerned. If he becomes too obstreperous I put
jalapeno juice in his mug of mead. That causes him to become more polite, for
Doris almost laughed. Clearly the females in this venue were
not helpless. She returned to the business of the moment. “But what of me? He
means to rape me!”
“It is not rape, dear. You are eager for it.”
Unfortunately true. “You said it will not be gentle.”
“I will give
you an amulet to increase your strength and shield you from the pain. That
will make it bearable. The larger challenge will be to birth and raise the
boy in your culture without generating attention. If his nature is discovered
by your kind, there will be mischief.”
“Mischief? Of what kind?”
“He will be magical, and as a child he will not be knowledgeable enough
to conceal it.” The goddess considered briefly. “In fact, I had better
provide you with competent assistance: my 50th daughter, Nerine.”
“The last of the nereids. We have not yet found a suitable
assignment for her. This should do.”
“If this girl is a sea nymph, how
will she be able to help raise a child on land? She will need help herself.”
“She will indeed. You must be patient with her, informing her of the
several pitfalls of land dwelling. By the time the boy is birthed, she should
“I hope so. But there's something else: how will I be
able to hold a job if I have a bas—an illegitimate baby?”
will give you favorable fortune. You will manage.”
“Good luck? Like
winning the lottery?”
“Yes, if that helps.”
“It may not; big
winners become the cynosure of the community. My situation would become
The goddess nodded. “Then it may be best if you do not enter
the lottery. Settle for lesser luck, enough to get by on. Nerine should be
able to advise you as to its proper use.”
“Nerine,” Doris said
dubiously. She had been given more to handle than she felt comfortable with,
to put it mildly. “Maybe I should meet her.”
“That seems reasonable.”
The goddess snapped her fingers.
A splendidly nude nymph appeared.
She had greenish hair to her knees, a lovely sweet face, and a body that
would win any beauty contest without trying. “Yes, mother?”
the mortal woman here, Nerine. Nanny her baby boy until he is of age to make
his own way. Then return here.”
“As you wish, mother. Why is this boy
“He is your half brother, Neris. We must not let him
founder alone in an unkind realm.” It seemed that not only was Doris to be
rudely impregnated, her son was already named. Well, in a dream everything
Nerine nodded. “Ah. Father found a loophole.”
Another virginal Doris. See that Neris grasps his heritage.”
shall,” the nymph promised.
“Wait!” Doris protested belatedly. “You
can't just go like that into my world.”
Nerine glanced at her. “Why
not? I am garbed as you are.”
She was truly innocent of mortal human
ways? “Because any man who sees you will try to grab you and—and molest you.
You need some clothing, at least. I don't go about naked when I'm home.”
Both goddess and nymph laughed. “That won't be a problem,” Nerine said.
“I assure you it will be a problem! Our men are just as crude and lustful
as yours, only less powerful.”
Nerine shook her head. “I will be
invisible and inaudible to all but you and the boy. We nereids become
apparent to others only when we choose; it requires an effort of will on our
part. Do not be concerned.”
“Here is the amulet,” the
goddess said. She rose gracefully and presented Doris with a sparkling blue
bracelet that appeared in her hand. “Wear it on your left wrist.”
“Thank you.” Doris fitted it onto her wrist, where it fit snugly, looking
“Now it is time for your tryst with Nereus. He is
“Uh, yes.” There was a renewed tug at her groin.
The dream would have its denouement, regardless of her preference. “But
“This way,” Nerine said, stepping toward a door that
appeared before her.
“Wait!” Doris repeated. “You're his daughter. You
can't watch him have sex.”
“I can't?” the nymph asked, genuinely
“You forget we are gods,” the goddess said. “Not only do
children know of the indulgences of their parents, they often participate.
Not that I have allowed it with my children. Also, Nerine is older than she
may appear to you.”
“How old are you?” Doris asked.
count after a thousand years.”
Oh, again. “Still--”
her,” the goddess said to the nereid. “She's mortal.”
Nerine reached out and took Doris's right wrist. Then she shimmered and
became a blob of flesh that shrank and coalesced around that wrist. She was
now another bracelet, a sparkling green one.
Doris gazed uncertainly
at both bracelets. They seemed to be a matched set, but would they really
help her get through the threatening ordeal? It was past time for this dream
Now pass through the portal. It was Nerine's voice sounding in
her mind, evidently from the green bracelet.
“Uh, yes.” Doris stepped
“Good luck,” the goddess called after her. She hoped the
wish was sincere, considering that it was her husband Doris was going to.
It is, Nerine's thought came. She knows you mean no harm.
was through, entering a hallway. Suddenly the song with its terrible urgency
was back full force. Indeed, it would not be rape, technically; she had to
have this relief, and soon, even if it was strongly akin to a need to vomit
An amusing analogy.
“Thank you.” She strode
forward, almost running, goosed by her groin.
The hall led to another
bedroom suite. She pushed open the door and entered.
There was Nereus,
a solid man, standing naked with a huge erection. Too huge; that monster
would never fit inside her. She desperately desired the culmination, but this
Do not be concerned; he will make it fit. Think of it
as like riding an enormous eel.
He would make it fit. That was not
unduly reassuring. And what was this about riding an eel? Were they
substitutes for horses, down under the sea? But the song compelled her
forward, into his bearlike embrace. There was no courtship, no sweet words,
nor did she want them; she wanted this done with as rapidly as possible, for
more than one reason. But how was that outsized member ever going to get
inside without splitting her asunder? There simply was not room.
clasped her and threw her to the bed. No kissing, no subtlety at all. His
giant member probed her groin, seeking entrance. She closed her eyes in a
vain effort to shut this awful thing out. Her feelings were excruciatingly
mixed; she wanted it in, but comfortably. If only it would shrink to
Ride the eel.
What? Oh, yes, Nerine had said
to think of an eel. Well, what choice did she have? Her groin was eager for
engagement, but she feared she would be wrenched apart into two halves by the
wedging of that imperative member. She imagined a giant eel, a sea creature
to be ridden. She mounted it, clamping her knees on its sides
authoritatively. “Go, eel!” she said sub-vocally. “Give me a ride out of
Then she was indeed riding the eel. It was vaguely like a
bicycle, with the seat at her groin, supporting her, stabilizing her body. It
bucked and shot forward, carrying her through the living sea, past startled
swimming fish, on into the encompassing darkness. What a glorious ride!
Then she realized that the monster did not have to get inside; all it
needed to do was press at the entry, sealing the connection, and discharge
its load into the hole. Like connecting a hose to a tap and turning it on.
Only the thing was pushing inside, not outside, forcing her aperture wide
open, distending her small channel impossibly. Pain flared.
Oh, yes. “Do it!” she muttered to the blue bracelet.
worked; the pain faded back, becoming merely a distant foundation being
rammed by a pylon. A pylon being driven several feet down into the rock with
each sledgehammer-like thrust. What a penetration!
Meanwhile she still
rode the eel, sliding through the deep sea, past sponges, seaweed, giant
squid, sharks, and curious smaller fish. She glanced down and saw that she
was impaled on the creature; its massive snout had disappeared several feet
into her cleft, and she had become a figurehead, or maybe a hand puppet, a
human figure on a stalk. Her body hadn't split apart; it had somehow
stretched to accommodate it. The worst was over.
Then the thing bucked
and spewed its copious ejaculate. A fire hydrant flow pressured into her,
blowing her up like a water balloon. Yet it also brought her orgasm, an
intense pleasure that suffused her whole being. Relief at last! The song was
gone from her mind, the compulsion from her groin.
But it was not
over. Her belly distended, and still it came, inflating her impossibly,
stretching her flesh, sinews and bones to accommodate it, rendering her into
a globe with relatively tiny arms, legs, and head projecting from its
“This better be a damn dream!” she muttered.
A degree? It was way past time to wake up.
popped off the eel and floated up through the sea. But her swollen body did
not jet the liquid back out; her aperture had sealed, like a tied-off
balloon, and she remained bulbous.
She bobbled to the surface and
floated there, a ball amidst the waves. There was the beach, not far distant,
illuminated by the lamps of the street behind. She stretched forth her arms
and legs and swam toward it, glad that they remained in working order.
By the time she reached shallow water, her body was back to normal. The
water balloon had released its fluid as she swam. She got to her feet and
waded out to the sand. There was the beach chair with her clothing safely
beneath it. She quickly dressed.
Doris stood and gazed back at the
surging sea. She must have gone for a swim, and been taken by the dream, and
now it was done. There were no such things as gods and goddesses,
form-changing nereids, giant copulative eels, pylon-driving sex, or
balloon-inflating ejaculations. It had all been her naughty imagination,
indulging in an exploit her rational mind would never have tolerated. She was
supremely glad that it was over.
It has only begun.
froze. Then she looked at her wrists. There was the blue bracelet on her
left, and the green one on her right. Oh, no!
Now we must go to your
home. I have much to learn about your culture.
So it was real, at
least in part. Maybe the sex had been ludicrously exaggerated, but she had
encountered the sea goddess with her name. And made the acquaintance of the
The sex was not as extreme as it seemed. The charm
facilitated your accommodation, and in due course abated the distention.
That too had been real? Magic indeed! But what about the worst? “Am I
Yes. My little brother is in place.
birth the sea god's baby. That had been the point of her summoning and evoked
urgency. Her unsought adventure had indeed just begun.
as a whole, she did not regret it. Her dull life had been dramatically
transformed. She was even coming to like the notion of having a magical son.
Assuming she could somehow manage the complications of being a single mother
who would lose her job the moment her pregnancy became apparent.
Books by Piers Anthony
Doris hears a compelling song, the reverse of a siren song because it
summons women. Nereus, god of the sea, desires her so he can sire a son after
having 50 daughters, and she must go to him; her groin is burning. The result
is Neris (siren spelled backward), her half human, half god son, with magical
powers. He grows up guided by his shapely half sister Nerine, who is a
neried, a minor goddess, nude but invisible to others unless she chooses to
be seen. Neris will grow up to fight the pollution of the sea that is
poisoning the sea gods, in part by using his attraction for women to defeat a
deadly real siren whose help he needs. He encounters things like Ouroborus,
the serpent that circles the world, biting its own tail, holding the globe
together, and who likes to watch movies featuring serpents. This is wild,
sexy fantasy with an environmental theme.
Dane at 18 is a rich young man, the likely heir of a highly successful
company CEO. He is abducted and held for ransom by Clare, 25, a lovely former
prostitute. Bored in a hot cabin without electricity they strip for comfort.
One thing leads to another, and they discover that they both have a similar
secret sexual problem. They can get it on to climax, but only with each
other; this is an intensely sexual relationship. He quickly falls for her;
then she falls for him. When he is rescued, he progresses from being her
captive to her captor. Then the real story begins. He gives his folks an
ultimatum: get Clare free and let him marry her, or he will never get into
the family business. So instead of paying ransom, they must welcome Clare
into the family. Dane's dad is not a man to cross, but when he faces off with
Clare the two discover mutual respect and he wins her loyalty. Just as Clare
shares a sexual secret with Dane, she shares a power of personality with
Pira, short for Piranha, is the most dangerous girl in the world. She is
phenomenally coordinated and has been trained to use crossed lasers that can
incinerate objects at up to 100 feet, or instantly maim or kill people. When
there are dangerous hostage situations, she is on call to handle them, and
she can do it, efficiently. She must travel with a guardian, Orion, on whom
she has a persistent crush. He's a nice guy and no slouch, a skilled martial
artist with a black belt in judo, but really the junior partner here. How can
he handle a girl with a devastating weapon who is not at all shy about her
desire to get him into bed naked? Even her mother is sure he will succumb. He
tries to hold out, but is slowly falling in love with her. Meanwhile the work
is challenging as Orion has to advise Pira when and how to use her deadly
power without revealing it to the world, and see that she completes her
Militia, a beautiful female criminal, targeting prominent men. But when she
goes after Newton Oswald she is a fly entering the spider’s lair. For Oswald
is himself a criminal, of a more serious nature than she. He and his former
victim Maria see Militia coming, as it were.
Juliet sees a car crash and hurries to help a severely injured man. All she
can do is call 911 and try to keep him alert until the medics arrive, lest he
go into shock and die. Desperate, she puts his hand on her breast, hoping to
distract him from the awful pain. This works--but now he’s in love with her.
Before it’s done, God Himself intervenes.
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