A chill ran up her spine and a slight shiver shook her. She pulled her light sweater close.

     "T'ha." Fredrik sucked in his breath in that distinctly Swedish manner. It was a common cultural response and Anna had never really noticed it in either her father or her husband. Yet with Fredrik it seemed wholly new and interesting, almost foreign.

     "You're cold and I'm keeping you." Fredrik stepped in front of her and opened the door, then moved aside to let her pass. "Please, accept my apologies and have a good evening. I'm certain our paths will cross again tomorrow."

     He turned to leave and she made a sudden, and life-changing, decision.

     "Fredrik." She reached out and grasped his hand as it brushed past her. "Please, come in for tea."

     "Tea?" A comical lilt played across the word.

     "Yes, tea." She smiled and her lips trembled. "I brought a very tasty blend that I buy in a small shop back home. I'm certain it's low in caffeine and --"

     Fredrik's presence closed in upon her and his lips found hers with a gentle familiarity. Her heart pounded beneath her ribs as she slid under a swell of passion, her body responding. Briefly she fought the sensation, then Fredrik leaned in closer and wrapped his hand gently around the back of her neck, his soft palm providing support for her spine, as well as her spirit.

     She gave in, entwined her arms around his waist, and followed the kiss where it led -- around a corner and down a road she could have never, would have never, imagined until this very moment."

Excerpt from "The Old Farmer" 

     Over the next several miles only four cars were impeded in their speedy travel by his passage along the narrow road. Evert steered his bulky vehicle as far to the right as he dared, wheels dangerously close to the deep drainage ditch that ran between the road and the many fields that he passed. Engines revving, the cars whipped around him, two of the drivers saluting a hearty "thank you" as they drew up beside the chugging tractor. He simply nodded. Removal of one's hands from the steering wheel was risky.

     Time moved slowly and he found himself indulging in memories. One such was of the day he had, as a boy, accompanied his father on a similar trip, the two dark draft horses trotting contentedly in their harnesses, easily pulling the grain to the silos. He had adored those horses, and had vehemently argued with his father not to trade them for that noisy contraption, the tractor. His father had not been persuaded, and the horses had been sold at auction to a man with a mean eye and a rough hand. Now, passing a small barn, Evert glanced into the pasture that ran alongside. He caught a glimpse of a chestnut hide sunning itself behind white fence rails and leafy birch trees. He blinked rapidly. Drawing his fingers across his eyes, he blamed their dampness on the bright sun ... or mayhap it was the exhaust from that passing red Volvo. 

Order your copies here and pay safely through PayPal for reduced on-line price $13.00/copy.

(Additional shipping charge may apply for delivery outside of continental US)   

To order your copy with any special requests please contact us at

Info@ArTemenos.com

or call us Toll Free at

 Copyright . ArTemenos LLC. All rights reserved.
 
www.ArTemenos.com