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

With the Arcane Night
by Quentin Del Rey, RCMP

   No; the twice-jilted Eileen was not pleased. Not at all! Neither the scent of almond blossoms and frangipani nor the chill gloom of the crypt impressed her, and it was all because he wasn’t there. Intellectually, she realized that Gordon ‘Sneaky Legs’ bar Kinnison, the seductive, pagan, romantic only man she had ever really loved, had a full life in which he was a prisoner in the very castle he had once owned, and he could not be expected to hold any consideration for the pleasure of one quizzical girl. Intellectually, she knew this. And yet…
   Truly, it had been a most looming day when three independent witnesses had brought him to her attention.
   Just then, an inrush of cool air as the door was flung open shattered her composure into a million seductive, silent pieces! She felt her heart suddenly beat with a new, wild rhythm. Surely it could not be — but it was! At the door, the passionate, green and pleasant and masculine face she had come to know so well! “Come to me,” he said in his curiously endearing fashion while the horror of these last months vanished in a blaze of joy. “I need you, you untamable Lolita, you!”
   At that moment as he dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief she herself had made for him, she knew that life without him was unthinkable, if not passionate. Wthout him, could she ever have realized that it was now only a matter of time before they would be feeding off of each other's precious bodily secretions?

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