FANTASY ISLAND VACATION GETAWAYS
For Paranormal Lovers
Ever wished you could
trade places with the heroine in the romance book you’re reading? What if you could be the heroine of your very own
romance novel, created exclusively for you? Come, live the fantasy. If you can
think it, we can build it. Your imagination is our only limitation. Call today.
Don't delay. Our friendly staff is waiting for you.
*Prices vary. Terms and
Conditions apply.
Cyn stood on the
floating dock staring dubiously at the mist-shrouded island in front of her.
“Miss,
you change your mind?” her dark-skinned escort asked with his musical island
accent.
“Nooooo,”
she slowly answered.
“Your
fantasy cannot begin until you step off of the dock and onto the shore,” he
reminded her.
This
she knew, but still had difficulty forcing herself to willingly step into the
pea soup not an arm’s length in front of her. Maybe if she could see something—anything—in
the ever changing blanket of fog…
“Miss?”
“I’m
going. I’m going. I just need another minute.” Or two, or three.
“You
know it’s perfectly safe. We would not allow any harm to come to you,” her
helpful guide assured her.
Taking
his words to heart, Cyn took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Wish me
luck,” she told him.
“You’ll
be fine.”
Casting
a last glance in his direction that displayed more confidence than what she was
actually feeling, she stepped off of the floating dock onto the shore and was
instantly swallowed.
“Just
keep moving,” she heard him say.
Easy
for you to say, she thought. She was blind in this stuff. She raised her hand
before her face. She could see it, sort of, but not much else. Even sound was
slightly muffled, like she was underwater. She forced herself to keep walking
forward, one baby step at a time.
Like
stepping through a curtain, the mist parted and she found herself standing in a
small clearing in the woods. Feeling strange, she looked down to see the simple
jeans and t-shirt she’d been wearing was now a coarse, peasant-style blouse of
an indeterminate color and a flowing loose skirt that gathered at her waist
with a rope. Her feet were shod in some type of animal hide material.
Definitely not leather. Bye, bye Nikes.
Her
shoes weren’t the only thing that were gone. So was her bra and panties.
Stupidly, she turned her head from side to side, looking for her missing items
as though they’d be lying on folded on the ground. Of course they weren’t.
They’d vanished.
She
turned to look back at the way she’d come and something swung against her back.
Reaching a hand behind her, she realized her previously shoulder length hair
now came to her butt in a thick fall of spiral curls. Okay, not something she’d
requested but she could deal.
Cyn
supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised to find both the beach and the mist
had disappeared. Instead of the rocky shoreline she should be seeing, there was
nothing but trees. At least it was daylight and the sun, though weak, was
shining.
There
was nothing for her to do but keep moving forward as instructed. She did so,
wondering what other surprises were in store.
She
turned around and placed her feet gingerly on the ground, watching closely for
rocks and other sharp items. She needn’t have bothered. Though sole-less, the
hide was extremely tough and resilient.
Sighing,
she continued on her way. The air was a bit warm and humid, and the rough
material of her top soon had her itching. Cyn scratched absently as the
clearing gave way to a wooded path. She followed the winding footpath until the
path changed to a rutted dirt road, which led to a small village.
It was like
stepping back into time. There were no cars, no telephone poles or electric
wires leading to the homes. No screens in the windows. Instead, wooden shudders
hung open, allowing passerbys to see inside. Goats bleated in pens. Chickens
and the occasional stately roster ran loose, as did cats and dogs of varying
sizes. Small, neatly rowed gardens bursting with produce were to the side or
behind each house, along with wells with buckets for water.
As
she neared the center of town, she could tell something was happening. The
villagers were standing around a man who stood heads and shoulders above them,
speaking in loud, angry voices. Some waved large sticks. Or maybe they were
staffs. It was hard to tell. Others had pitchforks and other farming
instruments. Children clung to their mother’s skirts and the women stuck close
to their men.
“There
she is,” the guy in the center yelled.
As
one, they all turned and looked in her direction. Cyn automatically glanced
behind her to see to whom they were referring. There was no one there.
“Get
her!” several voices rang out.
Get
who? Me? Before she could take off running, they were on
her.
Cyn fought but
was quickly overwhelmed. They were determined, and the women were viscous.
She’d have a few bruises before this was all over with. She was bodily lifted
into the air and carried to some unknown destination.
The
guy who must be their leader was saying something but Cyn was cursing and
kicking too much to hear him. After they’d traveled a distance from the town,
she was none too gently set on her feet.
“What
the hell are you doing?” she screamed at them as they trussed her up like a
Thanksgiving turkey and tossed her onto a flat, raised surface.
She
squirmed, trying to get to her feet. She didn’t know what was going on, but it
couldn’t be good.
“Stay
still, dearie. It will be over quickly, you’ll see, and it’s for the good of
our village. Think of your poor dear parents,” an old crone told her.
“What
will be over quickly?” Cyn demanded to know.
Another
sun weathered, wrinkled-face woman, with graying hair held back by a brown
headscarf shoved through the bodies surrounding her. “My darling daughter, if
only you’d have accepted Johnny’s proposal like I urged, you wouldn’t still be
a virgin.”
Cyn’s
mouth dropped open as things clicked into place. “Dear God! I’m being sacrificed?” she shouted.
“Of
course, dear. All the other girls were smarter than you. As soon as they became
of age, they married just to prevent this sort of thing from happening. If only
you’d listened—”
A
deafening roar sounded in the distance, and some of the villagers crossed
themselves. “It’s coming.” They began to melt away, one by one into the trees,
until Cyn was alone.
The
sound of wings flapping could be heard drawing nearer. She looked up as a
shadow crossed over her. Like a buzzard circling its prey, the dragon flew in
loops over the slab where she lay. Suddenly it dove and did a flyby, letting
loose a stream of fire as it did. All around her the forest was suddenly
ablaze.
Cyn
groaned and thumped her head against the rock on which she lay. “Great, I can
burn to death or get eaten by a fire-breathing dragon. Some vacation this is
turning out to be.”
She
closed her eyes as deadly looking claws came nearer and nearer, until it
blotted out the sky. As she was snatched off of the slab, Cyn thought to
herself, They screwed up and gave me someone else’s fantasy. Damn.