Realms of the Raven - Erotic Romance Author Maura Anderson

Maeb is the heroine of the first story in my Samhain Born series - Eyes of Jade. I’ve been shopping this around as a proposal but probably need to find time to write the full story before I’ll be able to sell it.

(Archives are on the website, if you want to read the offerings of past weeks)

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Eyes of Jade: Maeb
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson

Maeb O’Malley slogged through another pile of slush, barely dodging the wet clumps thrown up by the tires of the cab that raced by. Not that it could do much more damage – her legs were already soaked, the hem of her skirt caked with mud. At least the rubber shoes she’d bought, despite Peter’s distaste, kept her feet dry and the addition of a pair of socks meant she could still feel her toes after the several block walk from the train to her apartment building.

She sighed and stood before the door to the apartment lobby for a moment while she tried in vain to grasp her keys. Finally, she took off one glove and fished the keys from the pocket of her overcoat. Her hands shook already and she knew it wasn’t the cold.

Through the security door and into the somewhat shabby, dark lobby, she picked up the mail. Junk mail. What a surprise.

She shook off the flash of loneliness and loss, then used the small mirror from her purse to refresh her lipstick and do the best she could with her damp hair. She needed all the confidence she could muster. Goddess forbid I’m not pulled together for Peter or that I show any sign of weakness.

Resigned, she pressed the button for the small elevator, grateful it was working today and she didn’t have to climb eight flights of stairs. She didn’t have the energy to make it that far.

Just as the door slid open, another person raced in from the cold street and hurried into the elevator as she pushed the button for her floor.

The man let out an exasperated groan. “Damn – this weather can warm up at any time.”

She winced – the rough male voice belonged to her downstairs neighbor, Dale Samuels. Officer Dale Samuels. A thick arm reached over to push another button. “How are you doing today, May? Really.”

Mortified, she fought the urge to crawl into a corner and hide. It wasn’t bad enough that her day had been awful and the weather even worse – now she ran into one of the people she’d been studiously avoiding ever since the night Peter’s temper had truly flown out of control. She’d listened to Peter’s apologies and excuses and hadn’t pressed assault charges, but to have her own neighbor be one of the officers that arrived in response to the 911 call was nearly the ultimate embarrassment. He knew how weak she really was. How much of a failure.

She glanced toward the stocky policeman. “I’m fine, Dale. It’s just been a long day.”

The expression on his face clearly dubious, he nodded slowly. “You know I’m here if you need any help.”

She could feel the heat growing in her face. The elevator seemed to take forever to rise to Dale’s floor and she could feel his eyes on her the entire time. Carefully looking anywhere but at him, she was relieved when the elevator doors finally opened.

May looked up as Dale stepped out of the elevator and gave her a sober glance over his shoulder before he turned toward his apartment.

A deep breath shuddered out of her. There wasn’t really any help for her. She was tied to a man who had nothing good to say to her or about her. She had a dead-end job that made a mockery of the art she once craved and loved. She was stuck in a concrete jungle she hated, living in a tiny box she hated even more.

Her shoulders slumped for a moment, but she forced them back when the elevator opened on her floor. She clamped down on her dread and fear before she moved to her apartment door. It never paid to let Peter know how bad her day might have been. His day was always worse and it somehow became her fault. He seemed to sense any weakness, any vulnerability and attacked it like a rabid dog. Too bad he didn’t put that energy into finding a real job.

But this time he wasn’t sitting on the couch, watching the door, ready to ambush her with his complaints, demands and insults the moment she got home. May stopped in shock. There was hardly a day in the last four years when he hadn’t been waiting.

Carefully closing the door, she listened for any sound that might indicate where her husband was. Nothing.

She unbuttoned her overcoat and eased the cold, wet fabric off before she hung it on the coat tree by the door. Where was Peter’s coat? He rarely left the apartment so why would he choose to go out today, a day which was guaranteed to be uncomfortable and unpleasant? Did he find yet another thing he needed in order to have the right image, whether they could afford it or not?

What is going on?

A few steps to the single bedroom and she stopped in the doorway, shocked. Never completely tidy, despite her exhausted efforts, it was now in complete chaos. Dresser drawers stood open and empty, the closet door hung ajar and hangers were strewn over the floor. Even Peter’s side of the dresser top was cleared off.

Blindly, she reached out a hand and grasped the doorframe before she collapsed. What had Peter done with all his clothes? With his expensive cologne? Unable to believe her eyes, she kept glancing around the room. Finally, she noticed a piece of paper on top of her laptop where it sat on the tray table beside the bed.

May wove her way through the jumbled room to the laptop. Every few steps she found herself stopping to listen for any noise, any hint of Peter’s return. At last, she could reach the paper and see it was a short note in Peter’s discordant and heavy handwriting.

Unwilling to touch it, she read it from a distance.

The words were curt and cruel, not that she could expect any different from the man she’d married. He had taken his belongings and left her for a woman worthy of him. One that had money and connections. One that wasn’t selfish. One that wasn’t frigid.

The reality of the note’s message on top of Peter’s missing belongings suddenly struck May full force. Quick reactions at least let her sit on the bed instead of the floor when her legs lost their strength.

Gone? He was gone? She reread the note, praying her eyes hadn’t deceived her. She’d never hoped that he would just leave. She was free? Months of deceit, hiding money and fear that when she left Peter would follow her and hit her again had come down to this. He’d dumped her in a grand gesture of selfishness and she still couldn’t quite believe it.

In relief, she burst into the tears she’d denied herself for years.