There was the gleeful kind of mean in the air, a sizzle of temper and spite that boiled with power.

It suited Letti’s mood perfectly. Hadn’t she asked herself what else could go wrong, with her lack of being able to release her sexual tension? The night seemed to fit her mood so imagery perfectly, as she made her way up the narrowing road that cut through the dense, dark forest. She’d always thought those hills were a kind of Sleepy Hollow affect with the woods surrounding the pretty valley. But, just now, with the wind and rain and dark, the less serene aspects of that old tale were a little much in evidence for her peace of mind.

She thought she caught glimpses of lights beaming through the rain and trees as she made her way up Castle’s Peak, as it stood atop the ridge, of the mountain.

The road forked, and the bend on the right streamed between enormous stone pillars.

She slowed, gawked at the life size-size warriors standing on each pillar. Perhaps it was the storm, or the night, or her own jittery mind, but they stood more human than stone, with hair flying around their fierce faces, their hands gripping the hilts of their swords. In the shimmer of lightening she could almost see the muscles rippling in their arms, over their broad shoulders, and bare chests.

“Wow” she let out a long breath, and shivered in the warmth of her car. “And one more wow” she murmured as she stared at the castle. She’d seen pictures of it, and paintings. But it was an entirely different matter to see it up close with a storm raging. A castle, a fortress, and a house of horrors, she decided.

Its stone was obsidian black, with juts and towers. Perks and battlements stacked and spread as if some very clever, very wicked child had placed them at its whim. Against the rain-slicked black, long, narrow windows perhaps hundreds of them, all glowed and gilded with light.

Someone wasn’t worried about an electric bill, she mused.

Fog drifted around its base, like a boat in a moat of mist.

In the next shock of lightening she caught a glimpse of a white banner with a gold key madly waving from one of the topmost spires.

She inched her car closer, gargoyles hunched along the walls, crawled over eaves, rainwater spewed out of their mouths, spilled from clawed hands as they grinned down at her.

She stopped the car in front of the stone skirt of a wide portico and considered, very seriously, turning back into the storm and driving away. She called herself a coward, a childless idiot. She asked herself where she lost her sense of adventure and fun. It was going to be fun wasn’t it? Being invited by the most prestigious place in town, to a meeting of sort, a single meeting of importance. And hadn’t she gone through the trouble of dressing up just so to appeal to her guest? She pulled the invitation out of her jacket, “The pleasure of your company is desired for cocktails and conversation. Eight P.M. January 24th Castle’s Peak.”

Now how weird was that? She asked herself, and gritted her teeth as her shimmied in a sudden gust of wind. The way she was going it was probably a scam for a pyramid scheme.

“Welcome to Castle’s Peak”. His voice boomed over the rain, and his welcoming showed her a great many teeth. “If you’ll leave your keys in the car, miss, I’ll see to it for you”

Before she could think to slap down the locks, he’d pulled her door open. He blocked the sweep of the wind and rain with his body and the biggest umbrella she’d ever seen.

“I’ll see you safe and to the door”

“Thank you” She started to climb out, felt herself pinned back. Panic dribbled into embarrassment as she realized she had yet to unhook her seatbelt.

Freed, she huddles into the umbrella, struggling to regulate her breathing as he walked her to the double entrance doors. They were wide enough to accommodate a semi and boasted silver knockers, big as turkey platters, and fashioned into dragon’s heads.

Some welcome, Letti thought an instant before one of the doors swung open and light and warmth poured out.

The woman had a straight and gorgeous stream of flame-colored hair – it spilled around a pale face of perfect angles and curves. Her green eyes danced as if at some private joke. She was tall and slim, garbed in a gown of long fluid black. An open front swung freely in the wind, between her breasts. Her lips, as red as her hair, curved as she held out a hand of perfect sensual proportions.

She looked Letti thought, like someone out a sexy fairy tale.

“Miss Cabe. Welcome. Such a thrilling storm, but distressing I’m sure, to be out in it. Come in” the hand was warm and strong, and stayed clasped over Letti’s as the woman drew her into the entrance hall.

The light showered down from a chandelier of crystal so fine that it resembled spun sugar sparkling over the twists and curves.

The floor was mosaic, depicting the warriors from the gate entrance and what seemed what to be a number of mythological figures. She couldn’t kneel down and study it as she might have liked and was already struggling to hold back an orgasmic moan at the figure of the woman with flaming red hair and lips in front of her.

“I’m so glad you could join me tonight” the woman continued. “I’m Zoe. Please, let me take you into the parlor. There’s a lovely fire. Was the drive difficult?”

“Challenging. Miss..”

“Zoe. Just Zoe”

“Zoe. I wonder if I could take a moment to freshen up before joining you.”

“Of course. Powder room” She gestured to a door tucked under the long sweep of the front stairs. “The parlor door is the first door on your right. Take your time”

“Thank you” Letti slipped inside and immediately decided the ‘powder room’ was a poor label for a plush, spacious area.

The half dozen candles on the marble counter streamed out light and scent. Burgundy hand towels edged in ecru lace were arranged beside the generous pool of the sink. The faucet gleamed gold in the fanciful shape of a swan. Here the mosaic floor showed a mermaid, sitting on a rock, smiling out at the blue sea as she combed her flame-colored hair.

This time after double-checking to make certain that shed locked the door; Letti went over to enormous sink and freshened up. There was little she could do for her hair. Though she had drawn it back and anchored it to her nape with a rhinestone clip, the weather had played havoc with the soft red curls. It was a look, she thought, as she dusted her nose. Sort of arty and care free. Not as elegant as the redhead, but it suited her well enough. She reapplied her lipstick, satisfied that pale rose had been a good investment. Subtle worked best with her milkmaid coloring. She wore red, stoplight red, in an abbreviated dress that cling to her curvy body, with mid waist cut up the side rising up to her hips that showed off her terrific legs. And heels that that had clicked along the tile were a good four inched high and as sharp as stilettos. Yes, she thought particularly that she was dressed well for the uplifting occasion, and excused herself and made her way down the archway, with he heels clicking briskly along the tile. She enjoyed the sound of it. Powerful. Female.

And then she stepped into the first archway to the right, the thrilled gasps escaped before she could block it. She’d never seen its like, in or out of her lifestyle. Antiques so lovingly tended that their surfaces gleamed like mirror; the rich, deep colors that demonstrated an artists’ flair; rugs, pillows, and draperies that were as much an art form as the painting on the walls.

This was the perfect setting for a woman who looked like she’d just stepped out of a fairy tale. She wanted to spend hours there, to wallow in all that marvelous color and light. The uneasy women who had huddled in her in the rain was long forgotten.

Letti found herself grinning as the redhead returned and welcomed her.

“Welcome to Castles’ Peak” For a moment Letti thought she would lose herself in the woman’s eyes. She felt the power of them, a flash of heat along her skin, when they met hers.

( continued )