Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume IV by Kimberly Raye & Samantha Hunter

Author:Kimberly Raye & Samantha Hunter [Raye, Kimberly & Hunter, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-02-28T23:00:00+00:00

I WISH HE MIGHT…

Samantha Hunter

For my readers.

1

NINA LARSON TRIED TO ignore the slick drip of mud trickling slowly down the middle of her back and pointed a stern finger at the young photographer standing in the corner of the elevator, grinning at her. When he playfully threatened to capture a shot of her, she glared.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned.Sensing imminent harm, he lowered the camera, but couldn’t quite get rid of his smirk.

“Well, if it helps, mud looks really good on you,” he said flirtatiously, letting his gaze drop to her blouse that was also soaked with muddy water, exposing more than she would prefer.

“Hey, eyes up, bucko,” was all she said in response as the doors opened.

She ignored the curious gazes as she walked across the maze of cubicles that made up the reporters’ bullpen of The Scoop. The tabloid was otherwise known as the reporting hell into which she had been relegated after being caught up in a scandal that had cost her being a real reporter at a real newspaper.

Grabbing the door handle of her small office—a cubicle with a ceiling, really—she thanked God for that one small benefit. Upon being hired, she had insisted on her own space, such as it was. She’d taken a pay cut in exchange for this teeny little piece of private real estate, but it was worth it.

She grabbed a raincoat hanging on the back of the door and threw it down on the chair to protect it from her wet, muddy clothes. Sitting at her computer, she wasted no time banging out the copy for her story, due to the copy desk in an hour. There was no time to shower and change until she submitted it, so she set her timer, bore down and got to work.

Her fingers warmed as she typed at lightning speed, the words flying from her fingers as she told the story of Mabel King. The woman, who lived west of the city of Boston in a rural community, claimed that her pig farm boasted mud with special healing qualities, even the ability to reverse the aging process.

Nina titled it Miracles In The Mud? and typed on, flipping through her notes to grab some good quotes and ignoring the part where Mrs. King had dragged her through several yards of deep, sticky, stinky goop between pigs that weren’t all too fond of the human intrusion. One disliked it enough to knock Nina backward into the disgusting mud bath.

Nina wasn’t feeling any better or any younger for the experience. Still, readers loved a healing mud story, second only to healing properties of hot springs. Some things just never got old. Mabel was thinking about opening a B and B so that she could charge people to roll around in her pig-enhanced mud.

More power to her. In the end, while it was a crock, the modern version of snake oil, it didn’t do any harm, either. Everyone did what they had to do to get by in life.

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