This Journey We Call Life

By Diana Hunter

A wonderful collection of ten short fiction stories from Diana Hunter - including one never-before-published short story - proving that Diana writes well in many genres, not just the erotic romance she's known for.

The collection begins with "Mouse" - take one field mouse, a harried occupational therapist and add an hysterical client into the mix for a fun action/adventure like no other - and continues with "Never", another action/adventure with a much more serious tilt. "I Stay A Little Longer" continues the serious vein with a story of what happens after the funeral of one's long-time partner. Don't worry, "The Fairies of Lough Gur" lightens the fare with two love-sick fairies both pining over the same man. Erm, fairy.

"Blinding Love" continues the romantic theme, showing that a disability is no hamper to enduring love and "Bar Fight" takes a right turn - or is that right uppercut? - into a story that definitely needs to be longer. "Healing" is in the fantasy genre and poses some modern-day questions about our responsibilities to the Earth. Then along comes "Twue Wuv" and its homage to that wonderful movie, The Princess Bride. The collection ends with a new story, "Prom Night Prep", where every woman will recognize the agonies of looking perfect.

The characters in these stories are sometimes in love, sometimes just having a bit of fun, and sometimes terrified but, in every case, they're taking very definite steps along this journey we call life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diana Hunter
• Release date: Sep 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370577422

Diana Hunter

Diana Hunter became interested in writing stories with bondage and D/s themes when she found a dearth of them on the web. Nothing she read seemed to have the romantic element she knew was possible in such relationships. Challenged by a friend to write a better one, she wrote her first full-length novel, Secret Submission. Each book Diana writes contains a kernel of truth or deeply held conviction from her own life, but don’t ask her where truth ends and fantasy begins...she’ll never tell! When not writing, Diana is usually at her loom, weaving thread lines of a different sort. Married for over thirty years to the same man, she is grateful for all the wonderful encouragement he gives her.

Book preview

THIS JOURNEY WE CALL LIFE

by

Diana Hunter

Copyright 2017

All Rights Reserved

Discover other titles by Diana Hunter at

http://www.dianahunter.net

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Smashwords store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover original artwork by Steven Duprey, 16 x 20 Acrylic on Canvas

This Journey We Call Life

Mouse

Never

I Stay a Little Longer

The Fairies of Lough Gur

The Princess and the P

Blinding Love

Bar Fight

Healing

Twue Wuv

Prom Night Prep

Author's Note

The stories in this collection represent several genres. You'll find fantasy and fairy tales, adventure and short slice of life stories. The characters in these stories are sometimes in love, sometimes just having a bit of fun, sometimes terrifying (and sometimes terrified), but in every case, they're taking some very cool (and not so cool) steps along this journey we call life.

MOUSE

When Mrs. Antonucci's scream alerts Taryn to a mouse in her occupational therapy office, Taryn realizes she must take action.

The first inkling Taryn had that anything was wrong was when Mrs. Antonucci screamed, shot up out of her chair leaving her heating pad behind, and scrambled on top of the massage table.

The second inkling came in the form of a small gray blur that shot across the room.

Close the door, close the door! Mrs. Antonucci's screams ceased being simply noise and turned to hysterical orders.

Was that a mouse? Even as Taryn asked the question, she knew it for the truth. The January thaw had tempted her to open the back door to her occupational therapy office, the nearly sixty-degree fresh air too wonderful to ignore. Upstate New York got these thaws every year and she looked forward to the mid-winter break. While she would've preferred a window she could open, the first-floor back door worked just as well to let in sunshine, clean air...and field mice, apparently. The weather was slated to drastically change later this afternoon and it seemed this little one had decided to spend the rest of what promised to be a cold winter, inside with her.

It's under the weight-thingy!

It's okay, Mrs. Antonucci. I got this. You can come down.

Nope. Not until it's gone. Or dead.

Amazing how fast the overweight woman had moved. And how easily she'd climbed up on that table. Taryn had been working with her for four weeks now and would like to take credit for the speedy movements, but deep down inside? She knew the mouse had done as much to effect recovery as she had.

Despite Mrs. A's ultimatum, Taryn had no intention of killing the mouse. It hadn't done anything but seek warmth. Her gaze fell on a small wastebasket she put out for her clients' use. Still empty, as it was early in the day, she pulled out the plastic bag that lined it and held it by the base.

My dad used to catch mice at home all the time. We lived in an old farmhouse when I was little and they were always getting in. Drove my mother nuts.

She kept up a running patter to keep Mrs. Antonucci from screeching again. The poor little thing was probably scared nearly to death already, what with being in an unfamiliar environment. Cautiously approaching the cart that held her weights, a cart she rarely moved because it was so heavy, she kept her gaze on the surrounding floor as she slipped to one knee, basket poised and ready.

With a deep inhale, she shoved the cart aside and slammed the basket down on the furry object. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a gray blur dash away; Mrs. Antonucci's renewed screams confirming that a mouse ran off to her left.

Yet, she had caught something. Perhaps there were two?

Satisfied that the mouse under the basket wasn't going anywhere, she went and got an empty folder from the filing cabinet. It's okay, Mrs. A. I got one of them. Let me take this one out and I'll come back for the other one.

Two? There are two?

Taryn didn't think it possible for the large woman to make herself so small. She sat on the table, knees drawn up and her arms around them, her head turning from side to side as if dangerous sharks nipped at the table's edge.

There's one, Taryn told her firmly. I have the other one caught already.

She went back to the basket, carefully sliding the folder underneath the edges. With one hand on the upturned basket and the other under the folder, she slowly lifted the entire thing.

What are you doing? You caught it, put a rock on the top and let it die.

Taryn looked at her, horrified. No, Mrs. A. I am not letting this thing die in here. It'll stink things up something awful. Don't worry. I've got this. She grinned at the older woman. Besides, I need the basket to get the other one.

Mrs. Antonucci didn't answer, instead giving Taryn the evil eye and pulling her knees closer.

Taryn glanced out the back door as a cold wind blew through. She checked the clock on the wall. The storm was early. Big, fat snowflakes drifted down, melting as