Crazy Daisy

By CJ Blake

Chris was on his way home from college when he ran out of gas. A dumb mistake.
The next thing he knew, Daisy showed up. Daisy is a wild one. The colorful-haired, petite spitfire is always up for an adventure, and Chris can not say no to her.
When Chris and Daisy uncover a strange mystery in the woods they set out to solve it. But they need help, and they get it from some very unusual places.

PREVIEW:
After a long semester at college where I probably partied too much and studied too little, I was glad to be on my way home. I was in my beat-up old Honda and the little light that looked like a gas pump was glaring at me. The gauge was well below the letter E.
It was late, 11:33 PM according to the clock on the radio, and I needed to stop. I was on a four-lane highway, but I was between cities. I knew a gas station was coming up, Sip-and-Go or something like that, but it was about a mile away. I wondered if I should put the car in neutral and let it coast.
How long had the warning light been on? I couldn’t remember, a couple of miles maybe, if that’s when I noticed it, I could go a pretty long way on it, I’d stretched it out before.
Then the engine sputtered.
“No!” I said out loud, even though I was the only person in the car.
The engine smoothed. My grip on the wheel tightened up, my right foot barely applying any pressure at all to the accelerator. Where’s that freaking station!
The engine sputtered again.
“Come on! Come on! Don’t do this to me now!” My mouth was dry. The last thing I wanted was to be stranded out here. I couldn’t even see the lights of the station yet.
The engine smoothed out again.
I had never been so happy. “Yes! Yes! You’re gonna do it!”
I didn’t have a name for my car. I knew some people that named their car, but I always thought that was strange, so all I said was, “Come on Car! You can do it!”
We went about another tenth of a mile, me and Car, before the engine sputtered again, and again, and again, and then it died.
I shifted to neutral trying to use every bit of momentum, but I was rolling slower and slower. In the driver’s seat, I was swaying forward and back, trying to get a few extra feet out of it, but it was useless, it was a car, not a rowboat. I came to a stop on the side of the road. When I turned the key off and the headlights went out it was much darker out there than I had hoped. I thought for sure I’d be able to see the bright lights of the Sip-and-Go over the next hill. That’s all this highway was now that I thought about walking it, one rolling hill after another.
I let go of the steering wheel and sat back, I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was all I could do to keep from punching the steering wheel over and over and screaming. That’s what I was doing on the inside. Somehow I managed to stay calm on the outside. This would be a great time to have one of those roadside assistance programs. Just call someone up and a few minutes later a truck shows up with a big ole can of gasoline for Car to slurp down like a thirsty dog drinking water after a long walk on a hot summer day. But I didn’t have roadside assistance, that stuff was expensive and I was an almost broke college student driving an old Honda.
“All right,” I said out loud now that my inner tantrum had faded out. I needed to check the trunk. There might be a gas can back there. Santa Claus might be back there too, and maybe a naked supermodel. It might all be back there, but probably not.
I checked my side mirror before I opened the door, the last thing I needed was to step out and get splattered by a speeding eighteen-wheeler hauling a trailer full of chickens. I was in luck, the mirror was completely empty, it was so late I could walk right down the middle of the highway if I wanted.
I was still quick about it when I opened the driver’s door, got out, and went to the trunk. I used the button on the key fob to open it and the dim ligh

• Language: English
• Publisher: CJ Blake
• Release date: Nov 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005461720

CJ Blake

Hi, I'm CJ Blake, your average mild-mannered erotica writer.

Book preview

CJ Blake

Crazy Daisy

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2021 by CJ Blake

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Cover Image © Zoom01 | Depositphotos.com

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Contents

Running on Empty

The Walk

Free Ride

Busted

A Special Place

Breakfast of Champions

Hand Off

Farmer’s Daughter

Campfire Tale

Hit the Trail

Fortunate One

She’s Back

All Over

Also by CJ Blake

Running on Empty

After a long semester at college where I probably partied too much and studied too little, I was glad to be on my way home. I was in my beat-up old Honda and the little light that looked like a gas pump was glaring at me. The gauge was well below the letter E.

It was late, 11:33 PM according to the clock on the radio, and I needed to stop. I was on a four-lane highway, but I was between cities. I knew a gas station was coming up, Sip-and-Go or something like that, but it was about a mile away. I wondered if I should put the car in neutral and let it coast.

How long had the warning light been on? I couldn’t remember, a couple of miles maybe, if that’s when I noticed it, I could go a pretty long way on it, I’d stretched it out before.

Then the engine sputtered.

No! I said out loud, even though I was the only person in the car.

The engine smoothed. My grip on the wheel tightened up, my right foot barely applying any pressure at all to the accelerator. Where’s that freaking station!

The engine sputtered again.

Come on! Come on! Don’t do this to me now! My mouth was dry. The last thing I wanted was to be stranded out here. I couldn’t even see the lights of the station yet.

The engine smoothed out again.

I had never been so happy. Yes! Yes! You’re gonna do it!

I didn’t have a name for my car. I knew some people that named their car, but I always thought that was strange, so all I said was, Come on Car! You can do it!

We went about another tenth of a mile, me and Car, before the engine sputtered again, and again, and again, and then it died.

I shifted to neutral trying to use every bit of momentum, but I was rolling slower and slower. In the driver’s seat, I was swaying forward and back, trying to get a few extra feet out of it, but it was useless, it was a car, not a rowboat. I came to a stop on the side of the road. When I turned the key off and the headlights went out it was much darker out there than I had hoped. I thought for sure I’d be able to see the bright lights of the Sip-and-Go over the next hill. That’s all this highway was now that I thought about walking it, one rolling hill after another.

I let go of the steering wheel and sat back, I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was all I could do to keep from punching the steering wheel over and over and screaming. That’s what I was doing on the inside. Somehow I managed to stay calm on the outside. This would be a great time to have one of those roadside assistance programs. Just call someone up and a few minutes later a truck shows up with a big ole can of gasoline for Car to slurp down like a thirsty dog drinking water after a long walk on a hot summer day. But I didn’t have roadside assistance, that stuff was expensive and I was an almost broke college student driving an old Honda.

All right, I said out loud now that my inner tantrum had faded out. I needed to check the trunk. There might be a gas can back there. Santa Claus might be back there too, and maybe a naked supermodel. It might all be back there, but probably not.

I checked my side mirror before I opened the door, the last thing I needed was to step out and get splattered by a speeding eighteen-wheeler hauling a trailer full of chickens. I was in luck, the mirror was completely empty, it was so late I could walk right down the middle of the highway if I wanted.

I was still quick about it when I opened the driver’s door, got out, and went to the trunk. I used the button on the key fob to open it and the dim light that turned on allowed me to see just about nothing. I turned the flashlight app on my phone on and realized my battery was at 13%. Between my phone battery, my car’s gas tank, and my brain, nothing was running anywhere near full strength.

I searched through the trunk for a gas can. I pushed a crate of books to the side, shoved a green sleeping bag out of the way, the spare tire sat right in the middle of the trunk taking up most of the space, and my old sneakers were back there really stinkin’ it up. No gas can. My search for Santa Claus was short. My search for the supermodel even shorter.

I slammed the trunk. It made such a loud noise I was afraid I’d broken the latch, but I didn’t. I immediately regretted it. It was dumb to take out my anger on Car. Car did nothing wrong, it was his owner, me, Chris Mathis, that did something wrong. I didn’t put enough gas in it. Simple as that.

I put my phone back in my pocket and pressed the lock button on the key fob. I had a walk ahead of me. How long? I wasn’t exactly sure.

The Walk

It started out fine, my walk. One thing I had going for me was my shoes, a pair of broken-in sneakers, perfect for this. Another thing I had going for me was the weather. It was a dark night with a cloudy sky, but there was no rain, and it didn’t feel like there was any chance of it, there was no breeze at all, and the best way to describe everything around me right now was still. Since summer was approaching, it wasn’t a cold night, and I felt just fine in blue jeans and a button-down shirt with short sleeves.

After walking for a bit I really wanted to check my phone, but that low battery percentage made me awfully nervous so I left it in my pocket. Thinking about my pocket made me think about my wallet. Anxiety-ridden fear shot through me in the moments before I quickly patted my right side pocket and felt the lump of my leather wallet. Sometimes I left it in the cupholder of the car, that would’ve been no good, having to turn back now, however far I’d gone. I’d turned around to see if I could see Car. I couldn’t. I guess this was the point of no return. Then I heard a sound, the steady drone of an engine, a V8 for sure. I stood still, listening and waiting. Sounded like it was going pretty fast. I expected them to blow right past Car, then they’d be by me. Should I wave them down? Do the old hitchhiker thumb? Show some ankle? Seemed like a good way to get picked up by a crazy organ-eating psycho.

Hitchhiking, I couldn’t imagine it ever being a good idea, but people did it. Didn’t hear about it much these days, but I’d heard old guys talk about doing it when they were young. Different times though, and they probably weren’t starting out this close to midnight on such a desolate highway.

That engine droned on. I kept watching the last hill for the lights. Finally, they came. For a second I thought the car left the ground, and now that there was no hill separating me from them I could really hear that engine. I could see the lights, but I couldn’t make out any shapes, couldn’t tell what kind of car it was, but at that speed, it wasn’t a cop or sheriff or highway patrol.

I suddenly turned around and started walking in the direction of the Sip-and-Go. All of a sudden I didn’t like the idea of me and this car