Finding Romance

By Charlotte Raby

Four short stories of sweet, sensual romance...all with a touch of the paranormal.

~ Honor Café ~

Adrianne has made it her life's work to run a non-profit cafe for the homeless because she knows what it means to be hungry and alone. She expects to remain alone until Simon walks through her unlocked door after hours. He intrigues her with his chivalric language and desire to stay hidden in the dark, but she needs to know more if he wants her love. Living as a cursed vagabond for years has not prepared Simon for his powerful feelings for Adrianne and the danger in which those feelings put them. Their love could be his salvation, or their deaths. To try to save her life, he must leave her with his secret intact, but will he have the strength to walk away?

~ The Lace Thief ~

As Aveline Halifax prepares for the Valentine Tea Party to celebrate the pending sale of her family’s historic home, she suddenly finds herself in the past, celebrating Valentine’s Day – Victorian style – with another time traveler. Will the handsome police investigator help her figure out why they're stuck in the past and help them back to their future happiness?

~ The Tripany of Calazar and Trulene ~

The year of The Tripany has arrived. To the dismay of Princess Serafine of Trulene, her arranged marriage to the Royal Prince of Calazar will soon take place. In a time of parallel universes, transportation, and highly advanced knowledge, it seems barbaric to be forced into marriage, even to prevent a war.
In one parallel universe, filled with fun and friends, Serafine has done the unthinkable—met a young man named Gil, and fallen in love. How can she ever return and marry Prince Aiden when she has no love for him?
But how could she doom her planet to a war she can prevent?

~ My Life and Times with Nickolopolus Christog Cringelenstien Clausener ~

Miranda Jane, a milk bar waitress at the North Pole, looks forward to the end of her shift, but one last customer turns an ordinary work night into something magical.
Read MJ's letter to the world in which she answers the thousands of questions she's received about how she became Mrs. Claus and what it's like being married to a famous elf!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charlotte Raby
• Release date: Mar 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463600207

Charlotte Raby

Charlotte has sampled myriad ways to occupy herself over the years: technical writing for a major telecommunications corporation, professional flute-playing, earning an engineering degree in materials science and working as an engineer, raising and homeschooling two fabulous daughters, writing and publishing fiction and non-fiction, earning another degree and teaching in exceptional-education, owning a formalwear alterations business, and of course, housewifery. While all satisfying in their own way, writing is what has always sparked the most fire and excitement in her life. Please, follow her on her journey....

Book preview

Chapter One

Still holding a wet dishrag, Adrianne admired the bright stainless steel appliances and counters. This month, October, marked three years running her non-profit café to feed the homeless, and in spite of the rare threats to her safety, like tonight's knife fight, it was worth it. In these quiet times at the end of the night, satisfaction washed over her, making her feel complete.

As Adrianne slid cooled leftovers into the behemoth refrigerator, the bell above the front door jingled. She must have forgotten to lock the door. With tonight's incident in mind, Adrianne pushed through the swinging doors into the dining room. It was nearly too dark to see, proof she had at least remembered to turn off the lights and draw the thick brocade curtains.

As she reached for the bank of light switches, a masculine voice spoke from the far corner. Please, leave the lights off. I much prefer it. He spoke in a soft Southern accent which for some reason eased a bit of Adrianne's tension.

She could just make out his form in the darkest corner, furthest from the door and picture windows. Passing cars could be heard through the windows, but the beams from their headlights never breached the curtains. Only a diffuse yellow light from the street lamps glowed at the bottoms of each window, like eerie night lights. It brought to her mind the deep sea, where strange creatures dwelt. Adrianne felt her homeless were like that. They had evolved to survive within the deepest, darkest layers of society.

I'm sorry, Adrianne said, feeling her heart tug at having to send him away. The café is only open during the day.

Forgive me. He cleared his throat. I just arrived in town. Earlier I saw some of my compatriots leaving, so knew it was a place I would also be welcome. I'm sorry I've come late, but would it still be possible to get a small bite to eat?

How could Adrianne refuse? Well, I do have some leftovers in the fridge. I'll heat them up and have them out to you in just a minute.

You're a savior. Thank you.

Adrianne turned away, knowing she should worry whether the man was dangerous. There were all kinds of homeless people; perhaps he was one of the newly homeless and preferred the anonymity darkness provided. Or maybe he was disfigured and this was the best life he could manage.

Presently, Adrianne returned with a tray and finally got a closer look at him as she set out a bowl of stew, a plate of dinner rolls, and pie. Here you go. I hope you don't mind the large serving, but I figured if you're especially hungry, I wouldn't have to store the leftovers. He wore what appeared to be a fedora pulled low over his brow with a silhouetted feather sticking out from its band, and had draped over the chair next to him a sturdy looking overcoat. Adrianne found herself wondering about the color of the feather in his hat.

Well, madam, he said, sniffing the air above the dishes, all I can say is, Happiness, thy name is chocolate pie. He lifted his napkin and spread it across his lap. I shall do my best to relieve you of this burden.

Adrianne laughed at his affecting speech and curtsied. I thank you, sir. If you need anything else, let me know.

She returned to his table when she heard the scraping of a utensil on a plate. How was it? Adrianne was an excellent cook, which she knew well. However, she never tired of the compliments, considering it a side benefit of helping improve the world.

The stranger appeared to dab at his hidden face and held his reply until he'd folded and replaced the cloth napkin to its rightful place beside the dinner plate. Madam, that was the best beef stew I have ever tasted, and chocolate pie is happiness, indeed.

She agreed with him and they laughed. He seemed to enjoy making her laugh, which was a refreshing change.

Now, he said, becoming more serious. What do I owe you?

Only what you can spare. It's on the honor system.

Ah...hence the name. He reached into his pocket. I understand now. I thought perhaps your father was a judge and you named it after him. She chuckled and he made the motions of opening a wallet and placing a bill on the table. Thank you for the extraordinary meal. He picked up a case that had been resting at his feet, nodded his fedora-covered head toward her, and left, with the barest tinkle of the bell.

That's how it started. Eventually, he became a regular, and Adrianne grew to expect his nightly visits.

Chapter Two

It was against her rules. She couldn't clearly define why she let him in each night, except that his incongruity fascinated her. From his language and mannerisms, to his lack of even a hint of desperation, he was completely unlike any other of her clientele. Even his transiency seemed more of time instead of geography. Yet, after two weeks, Adrianne still didn't know his story. When the bell jingled and Adrianne called out, Is it you, sir? she found herself hoping that tonight they would finally move beyond small talk.

Yes, madam, it is I, come to partake of the health rejuvenating properties of your meals. He paused and Adrianne heard the whip of the napkin. I hope there is pie.

Adrianne laughed. Of course there's pie. I'll be right back with your meal. Now an expert at navigating the semidarkness, she had his food on the table within two minutes. Yet, when she began her retreat to the kitchen, he stopped her. A moment?

Sir?

He motioned toward a seat at his table. Will you sit with me for a while?

Adrianne hesitated. She hadn't planned on joining him at his table, but did want to know more. But out of habit she worried her attentions would be misunderstood.

Softly, his voice came to her, I assure you, madam, I merely want the company of an upstanding woman of character, and but for a few moments. I have lived too long and been through too much to require anything else from humanity.

Adrianne lowered herself into the seat opposite, drawn by his polite eloquence but not shocked by his cynicism. That is a very sad statement, sir.

That you're an upstanding woman of character? She began to laugh and heard his intake of breath. That is a lovely sound, madam. It is as refreshing as a tropical oasis in the desert of despair, laden with dew covered fruit, the taste of which would snatch a man from the brink of death. He'd had to increase the volume of his voice over her increasingly hysterical laugher. And you laugh yet more, raining down upon me an overabundance of fruit! His gloved hand took hers and squeezed.

Adrianne could hardly catch her breath, she had been laughing so hard. Well, whether or not I have character, you most definitely are one!

He laughed with her then. Adrianne finally noticed her hand in his, and slid it from his grasp. I do enjoy your humorous chivalry.

His head dipped in a brief bow. I thank you, madam. And your laugh is truly a delightful sound, one I've not heard in years.

Thank you. As to your sad statement, you know which one I meant. The cynical one.

Well, I think if we're going to discuss my faults, we should formally introduce ourselves.

I suppose it would be only right. She sighed, a few last chuckles spilling out. Somehow she had come to care for this person more than anyone who had walked through her door. Who should go first?

I think it would be gentlemanly for me to divulge my name first, giving you time to change your mind and run away.

Adrianne gave a quick laugh. Very well. I shall prepare myself for a quick departure. She scooted her chair back.

He cleared his throat in that way of his which had already become so endearing. My name is Simon de Fonte, of the South Carolina de Fontes; of Edisto Island, to be specific. He waited a second and then added, And you, madam?

Okay, said Adrianne, feeling a little overwhelmed. Uh, I'm Adrianne Ann Jones, of …the Phoenix Joneses. And then a little nervous giggle escaped before she could catch it. She rolled her eyes.

I'm pleased to meet you, Adrianne Ann. He took her hand again, and brought it to his lips, which she really wished she could see. She liked the look of full lips and guessed by the soft pressure they put on the back of her hand and the way they spread, that they were quite full. She had an instant vision of his lips pressed gently against her own.

Are you all right, Adrianne Ann? The tinge of concern in his voice startled her back to the present.

Oh, yes. Sorry. Apparently she forgot her original intentions and had let her growing feelings for him show. What was she thinking, letting him touch her and kiss her hand like this? I was just... You haven't eaten your dinner yet. I should get out of your hair so you can eat and gain those rejuvenating properties. She laughed nervously again and tried to pull her hand free of his, but he held it fast.

I will eat my dinner, if you will stay and tell me about yourself.

The only way she could think of to politely remove her hand from his yet again was to agree to his request. Well, she said, sliding her hand gently from his loosening grip, It's just a lucky thing my chores are all done for the night.

Good. He cleared his throat again and picked up his fork. Have the Joneses been in Phoenix for many years?

Adrianne thought she detected a hesitation in his manner he hadn't shown before. Could it be he had somehow been as affected as she, when he kissed her hand? Um. Now she found herself clearing her throat. Yes, actually. We came out with the wagon trains in the 1800s and have been here and there across the state ever since.

Indeed? Delicious corn bread, by the way.

Thank you. It would be morally wrong to serve chili without cornbread.

I could hardly disagree.

He continued making appreciative sounds as he ate, and Adrianne sighed with pleasure before continuing. The family stories say I have a great, great grandfather, Jedediah, who ran a saloon out in Yuma.

Ah, so you're continuing the fine tradition of sole proprietorship, in running the restaurant.

Maybe. Adrianne made sure she could hear him eating before continuing. I'm sure it runs in my blood. But, for a homeless person, it beats hanging out in the university cafeteria, trying to be inconspicuous while waiting to beg scraps from sympathetic college students.

I see. He paused, and his voice softened. You sound as if you have some personal experience with that.

Adrianne nodded then remembered he couldn't see her well. I was in college when my mom passed away. She was a single parent. It had always been just us, and... and why was she telling him all this? Things had always been touch and go, financially. Then when she died, I struggled to work and pay for my dorm and books. I had a partial scholarship for tuition, but often didn't earn enough money to eat.

So you scavenged plates? I am truly sorry.

Well, there were real homeless people doing it, and I really was a student, so it was easier for me. I remembered how hard it was for mom to keep us sheltered, and I can still remember how hungry I—

An uncomfortable silence lapsed between them, and Adrianne began to feel embarrassed. I'm sorry. She hadn't been able to keep herself from speaking so personally, and it made her nervous.

He found her arm and patted it. It's quite all right. Your secret is safe with me.

Well, what about you? Do you plan to stay in Phoenix long, or are you just here for the winter? As October passed, more and more homeless flocked to Phoenix to escape the harsh winters of the north. Here, they could still sleep outside if necessary.

Oh, my goodness. Peanut butter cream pie. Will wonders never cease? He quite audibly began enjoying his dessert. Miss Adrianne Ann, you truly are an amazing cook. I can imagine you get quite busy around here come winter, don't you?

Yes, I do, I— Now how had he done that? He had not answered her question, and had got her talking about herself again.

Please continue. I'm listening, he said, sounding a bit smug.

She shook her head. He was making it difficult to find out anything about him, and as the evening continued, she felt it was more important than before that she learn everything she could. Frustrated, she continued. My business doubles by the end of October and then triples by Thanksgiving. I'll be almost too busy for sleep until late spring.

Oh, that wouldn't be good. Don't you have hired help?

"I do have plenty of volunteers. But I get here by five a.m. to receive deliveries and then cook constantly until I leave. I try to triple up on my cooking during the day, but, sometimes I need the night to catch up. At least sunset doesn't get too much earlier around here, so I still have plenty of daylight to feed