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And my life as the Sassy Southern Storyteller -

HER DRAGON TO SLAY!

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“ D ammit, Grace, pick up the phone,” she growled through gritted teeth at the third voicemail she’d had to listen to in the last five minutes.

“Everything okay, Kyndel?’ Barney, the nice guy in her office, asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just trying to find Grace.”

“Oh! Anything I can help with?”

Kyndel thought about telling him her troubles, but Barney had been spending an inordinate amount of time in her office lately.

At first, she’d thought he was just being nice, but then he joined her hiking group, and just yesterday he showed up with her favorite no whip, nonfat, iced white chocolate mocha from the frou frou coffee shop on the corner.

It had been then Kyndel realized she was Barney’s newest crush.

It had been a long time between boyfriends and Barney was nice, but…

um… no . As flattered as she was, there was no way she was having an office romance.

‘Don’t shit where you eat’ was one of the pieces of sage advice Granny had given her just after graduation. Not that it ever truly made sense to Kyndel, but she got the gist of it…keep your personal life out of the office.

She saw the puppy dog look on Barney’s face and hated to crush his spirit, but Kyndel decided a brisk walk home would be better than leading the poor fellow on, in any way.

“No but thank you so much.” Then, to make sure he got the hint and skedaddled, she added, “Have a nice a weekend,” before turning her chair and dialing Grace’s office for the third time.

Voicemail again . Time to pack up and get the heck outta dodge before someone found something else for her to do. Bag on shoulder, scowl on face, and more than a little disgusted, Kyndel headed out of the office.

Never loan Grace the car… Never loan Grace the car…

was the mantra playing on a loop in Kyndel’s mind.

She was madder than a wet hen and getting hotter by the minute.

It was no fun to walk home after ten hours of work.

No fun to be abandoned and forgotten by the best friend she’d loaned her car to.

No fun to make the five-block journey past the park… in the dark.

At twenty-six, she rarely admitted her fear of the dark and held her aunts responsible for the phobia.

Had they not made her watch ‘The Brain Eaters’ when she was only six years old, Kyndel was positive everything would’ve been just fine.

It wasn’t that she believed aliens would set loose a horde of parasites to eat every human brain on the planet; she had a little more sense than that.

It was the feeling of being watched…like someone was hiding in the shadows, just waiting for an opportunity to scare the living daylights out of her.

At the mere thought of her ‘phantom stalker’, the hair stood up at the nape of her neck and she walked a bit faster.

A sudden thud, and what sounded like footsteps pounding on the hard ground, had her stopping in her tracks. “What the…?” She gasped, opening her eyes wide, hoping it would help her see through the shadows.

Several tense seconds later—that felt like damn near forever—and Kyndel moved again. This time, her eyes slid side-to-side like the stupid black and white cat clock her granny used to have in the kitchen.

The farther she got from where she’d heard the ‘thump’, the easier it was to convince herself it had just been kids sneaking into the park after hours.

Manlove Park was a well-known make out spot for teenagers.

There might’ve even been a time after moving to the city when Kyndel herself had been convinced to take a walk on the wild side, but that was a story for another day.

Shoot, now I wouldn’t know the wild side if I tripped and fell in it.

It had been almost a year since she’d dated the muscle-headed jock from the gym.

Three long, tortuous dates and all because he had an incredible body.

Of course, dating the douche bag had come at a price.

She’d spent the entire time listening to him drone on about his body parts…

and not the good ones …and only when he wasn’t checking out every other woman in the joint.

It wasn’t that he’d hurt her feelings. Kyndel knew who she was and had never been under the misconception she would be Miss America.

She had a few extra pounds and her curves had curves, but she was cute and had a brain, something not everyone could claim.

What had pissed her off the most about dating Vinnie was, she’d wasted three whole evenings of her life that she could never get back.

The one compliment the jerk had given her had been about her skin; he thought it was beautiful.

Her granny always called her complexion peaches and cream and said her freckles added character.

Yeah, ‘cause I need more of that.

She sighed as she thought about how much of her youth she’d wasted hating those tiny brown spots, until the day she realized they weren’t going anywhere.

It was time to buck up and learn to love them, or stop looking in the mirror.

From that day forward, she stopped using makeup to cover them and embraced her ‘freckled-self’.

She also learned to accept her curves . If ya don’t like em, don’t look at em was her motto.

For the most part, she ate right and worked out at least three times a week.

But dammit if she didn’t love her Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia and someone would lose a hand if they tried to take it from her.

A loud ‘thud’ echoed between the buildings.

Kyndel stumbled to a stop. She looked and listened.

The longer she thought about what she’d heard, the easier it was for her to convince herself someone had yelled for help.

So, for the second time in about as many minutes, she searched the inky shadows for signs of life.

Her anxiety level quadrupled the longer she stood still.

She wanted to scream when only the sound of leaves rustling across the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by reached her ears.

Disgusted, she grumbled aloud, “You’ve gone bonkers, Kyn.” The sound of her own voice somehow calmed her rankled nerves and she added, “Get to stepping, girlie.”

The clicking of her heels bounced off the brick wall of the library as she hurried past. Resuming her original mantra, she added Must kill Grace at the end for good measure.

“I swear when I get my hands on…”

Her words were cut short as the unmistakable sound of a man groaning came from the shadows.

A chill skittered down her spine.

Goose bumps covered her arms.

She counted to three, unable to move…simply listening…praying it was only her imagination. One deep breath later, she slid her right foot forward, prepared to make a beeline for home at a high rate of speed.

The groan came again. Closer than before. More desperate…almost pleading.

The need to help the injured grew within her. Turning towards the darkness, Kyndel searched for the source of the noise.

Shaking so much her teeth chattered, she looked for any sign of the man she knew needed her help.

“It’s time to make a decision, Kyndel. Fight or flight. What’s it gonna be? God knows standing like a bump on a log isn’t solving a damn thing.”

Flight won. She turned, almost running, her satchel clutched tightly to her side like a lifeline.

“Keep your head up and eyes front. Home’s only a few blocks away,” she reassured herself, with the promise of snatching her best friend bald for the stupid mess she was in.

Feeling guilty and worried for Grace, her heart at war with her brain, Kyndel thought aloud, “Hope everything’s okay…”

Grace had always been a little scatter-brained, but she’d never just forgotten Kyndel before.

It bothered her that there’d been no answer at Grace’s office or on her cellphone when Kyndel had tried to track her down before leaving the office.

She’d even taken a chance and tried her own home because Grace had a key, but only got voicemail there, too.

It was a war between anger and worry that accompanied most of her thoughts about her friend lately.

The running joke was that Grace spent most of her time hooking up with eligible bachelors she met at work.

The good Lord knew her bestie was gorgeous; five foot nine, long raven hair, blue eyes, and a curvy body without an extra ounce of fat.

To top it off, she was a first-year lawyer, with a promising career.

Grace had it all…brains and beauty, the total package.

Giggling nervously, she gave herself a mental swat to the back of the head. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to Grace, just a bump or bruise, even a hangnail would explain being left. If she really had just forgotten, Kyndel was going to be pissed and more than a little hurt.

The shadows seemed to be closing in. Fear pushed Kyndel until she was almost jogging in her sensible work heels.

Looking over her shoulder, the toe of her shoe caught an uneven piece of concrete, and from one heartbeat to the next, she was falling forward.

Arms flailing, mouth stretched wide in a wordless scream, the sidewalk racing toward her face, everything around her seemed to happen in slow motion.

All she could think was that’s gonna leave a mark .

Bracing for impact, she squeezed her eyes tight and prayed…then nothing happened. Opening one eye, then the other, Kyndel found herself hanging above the sidewalk, looking at a pair of the biggest feet she had ever seen—and they were sexy.

Sexy feet? I really am losing it. Wait! Why the hell am I above the concrete?

Warmth radiated from the perfectly muscled arm wrapped around her midsection. Goose bumps emanated from the extra-large hand holding firmly to her blouse, just a little too close to her breast.