A Roman Fantasy
by
Karoline Henders
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Karoline Henders on Smashwords
A Roman Fantasy
Copyright © 2011 by Karoline Henders
Cover
Cover designed by Karoline Henders, based on a photograph by William Attard McCarthy, licensed through BigStockPhoto.com. Any photographs of recognizable people are used for illustrative purposes only. They are not in any way depicted in this work, nor have they endorsed any part of it.
Disclaimer and Content Warning
The following is a work of fiction. Similiarities to any persons living or dead are purely coincidental. All the persons portrayed in this work, though fictional, are over the age of 18 years. This work incorporates explicit sexual content and is unapproriate for readers under the age of 18 years.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
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A Roman Fantasy
The gray clouds were already hovering above and I hit the gas a little bit harder, causing the jeep to grow a little bit meaner. Off-road, not a single piece of asphalt for miles. For a moment I was afraid to hit something. Not that I worried it might actually damage the truck, or even slow it down. But explaining to a French farmer why little bits of what had once been his cow were now hanging off the grills of my car, did not seem like pleasant conversation to me. The distant mountains told me I was heading into the right direction. Girls can't read maps, my skinny, white ass. I had all my girl scout badges. I could track down a bear in the middle of rural Europe and then I could make him buy three boxes of cookies.
Alex and his team was somewhere in that direction. They needed jumper cables, he had told me over a crumbly cell phone connection. He didn't want me around when they digging around Ancient Roman dirt, but the moment I could be remotely useful, I had to rent a jeep and drive fifteen miles through French nowhere.
I smiled. A girl coming to their rescue. Out of car trouble too. That had to sting.
It was half a mile later when I saw him walk towards me. I double-checked the map. The GPS numbers he had given me pointed to a spot four miles further down the imaginary road.
I stopped and wound the car window down.
He was handsome, curly black hair, ice-blue eyes. He was also charming at times, if he didn't loose himself in history books or tried to explain to me how Ancient Roman economy worked.
"My boyfriend told me not to pick up hitchhikers."
"Open the car, it's going to rain."