Libby Drew
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Everything posted by Libby Drew
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Derrick dislikes train travel, and this particular route through the mountains always makes him nervous. Meeting a handsome stranger is exactly the distraction he needs, until the remarkable reason for his new friend's presence is revealed.
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Learning by Touch ~A short story in the "Sight of Stars" universe *~*~* Few things were as fickle as memories. Solid one moment, ephemeral the next, they taunted Thomas. He recalled that his childhood bedroom had been light blue and his quilted bedspread a forest green with black diamonds, but he couldn't bring to mind the exact shade of his mother's hair. He couldn't picture his father's face, but could conjure his cold, cruel words with a clarity that made his heart seize. He ha
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*~*~* "Total light and total dark are the rarest of the rare. Good luck finding such a thing, cause I don't believe in them," Captain Galad'in told Samyel. "It's like God and the Devil. There's only one start and one finish, kid. Everything else falls somewhere in the middle." p.348 The Kollan War, Book V in the "Ten Thousand Suns" series *~*~* Thomas lowered himself onto his stool and pulled the first of the day's deliveries between his legs. The box had a rectangular label w
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Thomas is alone in the shadows, spending his days surrounded by books he can never read. Seth comes to his rescue.
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*~*~* Long in her tower had languished Danae, Fast cages by massive heavy-bolted doors, And guarded safe by savage-baying hounds From midnight lovers' vows. *~*~* He felt untouchable. The bedroom he'd chosen was cloistered on the opposite end of the house from his parents' suite, nestled inside a turret at the top of a set of dark, winding stairs. The house was big enough that they might go days and never see each other. Perfect. Seven tall arched windows framed a
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Aaron thought nothing would be different in his new town of Ridgton. Instead, nothing is the same. When he meets Chris, he finds not only a fellow baseball player, but a close friend – one who gives him the courage to explore the things about himself he's been hiding.
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Quent stalked down the hospital corridor, pleased when people scurried out of his way. He stopped by the nurse’s station and verified White’s room number. Wanting to keep the staff off guard, he smiled sweetly at a couple of the on-duty nurses. Several turns later, Quent came to Room 212. He pushed through without knocking, it seemed to be the accepted norm around the place, but pulled up when he saw who was already inside. Sarah was sitting on the edge of Braden’s bed. She gave him a shy
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Cale opened his eyes to the sight of Stuart crumpled on the floor next to him. His ears rang from the gunshots. Across the room, Drew lowered Quent’s gun and tilted his head back with a groan. Cale was on his feet and by his side in an instant. He removed the gun from Drew’s grip and laid it on the floor next to the chair. "Are you all right?" Drew’s answer, a mumbled affirmative, did little to ease Cale’s mind. He reached up to cup Drew’s cheek in his hand. "Drew, look at me," he pleaded.
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Quent slipped in through the door and sidled into one of the small alcoves nestled in the foyer. In the distance, somewhere in the house, he heard voices. They didn’t sound close, but Quent knew in a house the size of the McCoy mansion the voices could be coming from the next room and still sound far away. His leg ached. Doing his best to ignore it, he freed his gun from its holster and eased his head around the corner. He saw no one, but both the foyer and the halls leading to the main rooms bl
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Cale knew something was wrong the second they pulled up to his house. Every lamp was lit. Elizabeth’s small Mercedes coupe and Stuart’s White BMW were sitting side-by-side in the round driveway. Cale’s stomach lurched into his throat. "Shit," he whispered. Drew jumped out and approached the two cars. Cale followed, glancing warily up at the house. When he reached Drew, he came up short. Drew was staring at the trunk of Stuart’s car. His eyes never leaving the vehicle, he reached into his back
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Sarah sniffed and wiped away another tear. She closed the first box and opened the second. Mrs. Mullen had come by earlier in the day and given them to her. "These are some of Cynthia’s things," she'd said through stifled sobs. "I knew they should go to you. It’s old school girl stuff." Sarah had nodded and embraced Cynthia’s mother awkwardly with one arm. A minute later, Mrs. Mullen was gone. The boxes sat unopened most of the day, mocking Sarah from the foyer hall. That evening before di
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Stuart pulled into his driveway at breakneck speed, wheels spinning over the loose gravel. He seethed over the confrontation with Steve and Rob. He'd been tempted to shoot them both; they deserved it. But in the back of his mind he knew there was the slightest chance that he wouldn’t get away. That his plans would be interrupted before they were complete. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Steve was nothing more than a nuisance and Rob gave new meaning to the word inept. Even if Steve spilled
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Although Drew was expecting to be thrown against the door and ravished as soon as they arrived at the apartment, Cale passed him without a word and headed straight for the kitchen. Surprised, Drew stood by the front door, feeling bereft for a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Cale came to the kitchen doorway and smiled at Drew. He was holding a glass of water in his hand. "Is something wrong?" Drew shook his head with exaggerated slowness. He didn’t move from the small tiled entr
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Drew looked at Steve in shock. "Stuart? Are you kidding?" Steve shook his head in exasperation. "You don’t know him," he insisted. "You never knew him when he was younger. He seems all together now, but he’s not. He’s not," he said more firmly in response to the disbelief in Drew’s eyes. Drew shook his head. "I’m sorry, Steve. I just can’t believe that. Stuart is…" he floundered, "a doctor." Steve snorted and Drew winced at how inane he sounded. Being a doctor didn't preclude someone from
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The world could go to hell in thirty minutes, but could just as easily be righted in the same time span. This was another fact that Quent had come to appreciate. Thirty minutes ago, Mullen had burst through his front door. Now, he was on his way out again. A little worse for wear perhaps, but still all in one piece. All the fight had gone out of the lad after Marcus snapped the cuffs on and he had stayed unusually quiet while Quent called Rob to come fetch him. Now, as Rob led Steve away, Que
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Three days later, the hospital released Quent from its clutches – to the extreme delight of its staff. He called Cale to come fetch him, even though he knew it would mean another dose of Marcus. He restrained himself and played nice for the entire ten minute trip home. Watching Marcus bumble around with his keys however, snapped his resolve to be civil. Drew had been struggling with the front door lock for five minutes. The key to the deadbolt was easy enough to spot – it was marked. However,
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Quent threw open the door to his hospital room. The snippy witch at the nurse’s station hadn’t even stopped back to see if he needed help. As a result, he had dressed himself, not the easiest of tasks with a heavily bandaged thigh that throbbed every time he moved. He limped out into the hall, turned, and bumped right into Stuart. The collision jarred his leg and pain seared the left side of his body. He cursed loudly and gave a fervent prayer that where ever Jim Stahl was now, the bastard wa
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Quent woke with a gasp. The various files that had been scattered on his lap tumbled to the floor. The clarity that had been so elusive earlier was back - times two. "White," Quent whispered. Where in the hell was Braden, he wondered. He knew Cale would argue that the man had simply skipped town. Quent knew better. He knew Braden. He was a mongrel. He never strayed far and he always came home before dark. Blurry eyed, he reached for the phone and dialed Drew’s apartment. It rang twenty tim
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Drew heard Quent the second he stepped off the elevator. He chuckled at a frazzled looking nurse rushing down the hall, but didn’t bother to stop and ask after Quent’s room. He simply followed the banging and shouting. "Cobb, if you send one more pre-pubescent teenage girl in here to feel me up...." "You’ll what, Quent," Drew heard Stuart say. "I’m afraid you don’t look very scary at the moment." "My aim is perfect," Quent snarled. "Yes, so you’ve demonstrated. I could move you down
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Quent led the way down the stairs. Drew kept darting glances at the house but the angle of the sunlight prevented him from seeing inside. "Hey Quent," Drew said, "Jim is pretty protective of his privacy. I caught him going in there last week and he nearly tripped over himself to shut the door in my face." Cale piped in. "He’s right, Quent. With the exception of some wild rumors, I’ve never heard of anybody who actually knew why he built this garage." "In that case, this will be more fun
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"Answer to what?" Cale queried. Drew turned around. He was ghostly pale. "This message, Cale. It sounds like you know who murdered Marci. That you’re coming to tell me." "That’s ridiculous," Cale scoffed. "That’s not what I meant at all." "As much as I am loathe to admit it…." Quent cringed before continuing. "Marcus’s right." He rewound and played the message again. Cale listened carefully. This time his eyes widened. "I see what you mean," he said. Drew grabbed Cale’s arm. "It l
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Cale grabbed three glasses from the kitchen while Quent made himself comfortable on the couch. Drew looked wary. "It’s a bit early to be drinking, isn’t it?" Quent snorted. "Thought you liked to break the rules, Marcus?" "I like to remember breaking the rules. A couple hits of that and I won’t remember my own name." Quent smiled evilly. "Maybe Cale will scream it and remind you." Drew collapsed into a seat. He stared at Quent thoughtfully. "Were you always like this?" "Like what?"
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Quent pulled up in front of Steve Mullen’s house. Thankfully, the man had finally moved out of the old Mullen family homestead. Now there was a nightmare. Tara Mullen, mother of eight screaming, obnoxious Mullen offspring – Cynthia and Steve included – had always reminded him of the old woman who lived in a shoe. With dozens of children and no birth control, too. Most of the Mullen clan was grown and gone. On to better things, thank God. They had been a bunch of scruffy ruffians. Quent always
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After the incident at the garage, Quent, Cale, and Drew met back at the station. Quent cursed the blinking red light on the message center. Drew looked at it, bemused. "I hope none of those were emergencies." "Those are routed directly to my phone," Quent said. Drew ran his hand over the machine. "You haven’t received any emergency calls since I’ve been around you. Who decides if it’s an emergency?" Quent looked at him as if he were stupid. "The caller, Marcus." "Ahhh," Drew said.
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Cale called Elizabeth as they drove out to see his car. Drew sat beside him, stoic. She answered on the first ring, which shocked Cale enough that he was momentarily at a loss for words. She must have been sitting on the phone. "Elizabeth, it’s me," he said. "Oh, Cale! Are you all right?" "I’m fine." He reached across the seat and put his hand on Drew’s thigh. Drew covered it with his. Well…where are you?" She sounded flustered. "With…a friend." Cale cringed. Drew squeezed his hand,
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