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

by Tom Fourdrinier

   Waiting alone in the little walled garden, with the antediluvian smell of new-cut grass wafting in from outside, the still-proud Princess thought once more of Baron Ken, the masterful tutor who had transformed her from a mere girl into a real woman. He was now, according to the letter on the bureau, seeking a new life as a Foreign Legionnaire.
   At long last came an abrupt fanfare from the long-silent trumpets, and she felt her heart suddenly beat with a new, wild rhythm. He was here! “Our love will outlast eternity, you sweet little morsel of girl-flesh!” he blurted in that unforgettable hypnotic drawl.
   Abruptly, it dawned on her that her days of loneliness were over, and as he excitedly began to show her his plans for the villa they were to share, she knew that at last he was hers — and that only death could part them.

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