Rambo calling......

Mad About Mirabelle - released 19th December 2007

Mad about Mirabelle…a man, a woman and a limo…one night of wild, naughty sex. They’ll never see each other again – or will they?

1:30am in the frigging morning and the phone rings. I have a policy – after 9pm at night I do not answer phones or emails. Yes, I can be an anti-social bitch but if you really have to talk to me you would have rung me at a reasonable time and not when I am in switch off and relax mode. The people I know understand this. They also know I will answer the phone if the secret phone signal is given – a certain series of rings – if it’s really important like burning gossip needs to be imparted or ‘oh my god, I need you to lie for me’ stuff. Yes, possibly I am odd but I love me so being odd is irrelevant. I will also answer the phone if it’s a ghastly time like at 1:30am as it’s usually some emergency where you need to wear inside out clothes to go to the police station or hospital.

Was my 1:30am call this morning an emergency? No. It was from Rambo, no not the movie character, but a woman I used to work with many moons ago. She was as drunk as a skunk and she had ‘vital information’ for me. This is basically how the conversation went…please note I have translated it into English from drunk speak.

R – I need to speak to you. It’s very, very, very, very important – very big..hic…stuff.
A – WTF?? Are you on fire? Kidnapped by aliens and this is your one phone call?
R – You are not to tell anyone what I am going to tell you...hic
A – Great, you’re pissed…
R – No, I don’t know him but don’t tell him.
A – (What? Eye roll) What do you want?
R – I’ll put Bucky on
**I loathe her boyfriend Bucky – he is an arrogant prick.
B – This is very important Amajindra…draminda….adimda…only you can know this, dimadandra
**great two drunks…

A – Listen dweeb-brain put Rambo back on now or I’ll hang up.
R – Well what do you think of that?
A – What?
R – Yes, I thought so too
A – (Uh huh…) I would go for it.
R – You agree with me?
A – Absolutely and I would make sure I bought it in red as yellow would be wrong.
R – Yes, you’re right. I knew you’d understand.
A – Go away and fall down somewhere Rambo, okay?
R – Okay

Drunken friends – what can you do? Well you ring them at 4am, 5am, 6am, 7am and 8am as payback as they recover.

Speaking of drunken friends – Anny and Kelly – from what they tell me they are what Aussies call two pot screamers – 2 drinks and they are under the table. I am looking forward to seeing that. Today on Anny’s blog on www.annycook.blogspot.com she is as wise and as Zen like as ever pointing out the bleeding obvious with a velvet covered brick. Kelly on www.kkirch.blogspot.com has the blog serial. What can I say? She is truly – ah unique, yes that’s it – in the way she thinks. Check it out and try and convince me she is not crazy. I dare you.

The Crystal – Sandra Cox - out now from Cerridwen Press – click on the cover and buy if you want a fabulous read you cannot put down.

The wind keened and rain blew down in liquid sheets. Gabriella Bell clapped her hands over her ears and blinked as thunder boomed and lightning lit the sky.
She had forgotten her umbrella, again. Head down, she turned the corner and ran full tilt into the arms of a stranger.
“Im sorry,” Gabby mumbled into an expensive, camel-colored raincoat, her nose pressed against a hard chest.
She felt long arms wrap around her, steadying her. For a brief moment the clean smell of rain mingled with the scent of expensive aftershave and crisp cotton, before the man gripped Gabby’s upper arms and thrust her away, holding her at arms length.
Icy green eyes, colder than the wind whipping her hair about, stared into her own. His rain-darkened hair was drawn back in a ponytail and beads of water glistened on his coat.
“May I suggest you watch where you are going?” The stranger stared down his nose at her, his voice brusque, his manner arrogant. Letting her go, he walked away.
Gabby stared after him, as he wove through the throng of pedestrians with the lithe grace of a cat. Still feeling the heat of his hands, Gabby rubbed her forearms as she watched him disappear into a sea of umbrellas.
Determined to forget the whole unsettling encounter, she wiped the rain out of her eyes and looked around. A small store with a purple awning was just a few yards away.
Seeking shelter, she made a dash for it.
Reaching the awning, Gabby pushed past a couple standing under it waiting out the storm. She grasped the cool brass door handle and stepped inside.
As she took a step forward, her sandals squished. Gabby grimaced at the puddle forming at her feet, stepped back onto a black mat and shook one foot then the other as she glanced around. She’d stepped into one of the popular little novelty shops that lined Main Street. Crystals glittered and winked. Pewter moons hung from the ceiling on silver chains.
Bags of dried plants and herbs lined one wall. She picked up a little plastic bag and sniffed lavender. Gabby put it back and glanced at the jewelry counter. Stars and pentagrams gleamed against black velvet.
Starting toward the counter to get a closer look at the jewelry, Gabby paused as she caught a glint of color out of the corner of her eye. Shifting, she craned her neck to see, but the shimmer of color disappeared. Curious, she walked in the direction the flash of green came from.
A row of black capes blocked her view. She pushed them aside and stared into the shadowy corner. Hidden in the gloom, was a sea-green crystal ball. It stood in solitary splendor on an antique claw-footed stand.
She took a step forward and ran her index finger along its smooth surface. The globe felt toasty warm against her damp skin.
Drawn, she splayed her fingers until her palms nestled around it. A delicious wave of heat ran through her, like sitting in front of a crackling fire on a cold winter night. Ecstasy coursed through her body.
Transfixed, she watched the glowing green crystal change to blue, its hues dancing and sparking like moonbeams on the water.
The crystal pulsed beneath her hand.
By degrees, the feeling of warmth disappeared . . . and fear crept in.
Her breath hitched in her throat as the color in the crystal fell away and a face formed. Its blurred outline moved back and forth, wraithlike and then sprang into sharp focus.
She felt the color drain from her face, as her nerveless fingers dropped from the ball. The face in the globe belonged to the hard-eyed stranger she’d bumped into outside the shop, only moments before.


www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?