For your reading pleasure, Tempest presents yet another exquisite example of romantic narrative…

Below the Verdant, Unconquered Moon
by Tom Hershey

   No; Robert, even lovelier — if possible — in her grief, was not pleased. Not at all! Neither the plaintive braying of the Don’s llamas nor the Red Chamber, remembering its bloody history impressed her, and it was all because he wasn’t there. Intellectually, she realized that the fearless Nelly, the looming masterful tutor who had transformed her from a mere girl into a real woman, had a full life in which he was the hapless captive of mind-devouring space aliens, and he could not be expected to hold any consideration for the pleasure of one intensely tawdry girl. Intellectually, she knew this. And yet…
   Truly, it had been a most forbidden, savage day when the best salon gossip had brought him to her attention.
   Only in this moment of extremity could it have happened that a sudden commotion, heavy footsteps in the hall shattered her composure into a million renewed pieces! She rose to face the inevitable. Surely it could not be — but it was! At the door, the nigh-arcane, untamable and masculine face she had come to know so well! “Kiss me,” he stated while he went down on his knees and implored her to forgive him. “I need you, you who make my life complete!”
   Then, without any warning, as he once again began to woo her with the sensual voice of his Stradivarius, she knew that life without him was unthinkable, if not expressive. Wthout him, could she ever have made a mental note to call Archibald later and tell her all about it?

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