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photographs of the seascape to inspire her.
    She glanced at the time. It had been two blissful hours of quiet this afternoon and now it was time to take a walk. She covered her canvas with an oilcloth and wiped her hands on the damp rag that hung from a hook on her easel.
    Before she woke the dark-haired toddler sleeping on the couch in the sunroom, she’d have to wash the smell of oil paint from her hands.
    As she slipped past him on the way to the kitchen, her baby stirred, stretching his bare toes and blinking sleep y eyes at her.
    “Mama will be right back, Ty,” she whispered and patted his silky hair as she passed.
    When she returned, the boy was fully awake. He grinned and reached up chubby arms to encircle her neck as she bent to lift him off the couch. She took in his powdery scent and the comfort of his sleep-warmed skin as she cradled him against her and rubbed his back.
    “Hi!” he said over her shoulder.
    “Hi, baby! Ready to go for our walk?” Mara asked.
    “No, Mama! See, Daddy?”
    Mara laughed. “Yes, Ty. Mama painted Daddy into another of my pictures. Let’s go look.”
    She stopped mid-turn. Her heart kicked against her ribs at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered shape in the doorway that led to the back deck. The man wore jeans and a white shirt, and his eyes were the color of the oceans, the color of Ty’s.
    Her knees nearly buckled . He hadn’t changed at all from the image in her fantasy, the image she painted as often as she could, whenever she found a way to put him into the seascape fantasy portraits that paid her rent. He was still beautiful and as perfect as he’d been the day he left her on an Aegean beach and returned to his city beneath the sea to face his punishment.
    And his son instantly recognized him.
    “Hi!” Ty said, waving at their visitor.
    “Hello,” Tiran said, a sparkle of moisture in the corners of his eyes. He stepped over the threshold.
    Mara walked forward so he could see the face of the beautiful boy he’d given her. “His name is Ty,” she said, and her voice caught. “I was hoping you’d get to meet him one day.”
    “I’ve thought of nothing else for two years.”
    “How did you find us?”
    Tiran smiled at his son and let the boy clutch his large hand in chubby baby fingers. “Poseidon kept tabs on you for me. As soon as I was free to leave the city, I came here. I can never go back.”
    “Then you’ll stay here with us, won’t you?” Tears laced Mara’s hopeful laugh.
    “I was hoping you would ask.”
    “They won’t come to take you away from us, will they?”
    “Not this time.” Tiran caressed her face, and she leaned into his touch. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfill your fantasies that day, Mara. I hope I’ll have a chance to make it up to you.”
    She laughed and threw her free arm around his neck, catching both of her men in a desperate hug. “You gave me everything I ever wanted—much more than any fantasy.”
     
    THE END
     
     
    It looks like human/alien relations are heating up…
     
    HUNTER’S MOON
    copyright 2011, Bernadette Gardner
     
     
    When an inhuman scream silences the night creatures in a Pennsylvania woodland, Alliana Cambridge isn’t afraid. She’s angry. When she goes in search of the source of that tortured sound she expects to find another drunken hunter injured by his own gun.
     
    Instead she finds something indescribable. He’s six feet of sensuous panther-black skin stretched over taut muscle. His green eyes glow with feral intelligence and though she can’t speak his language, Alli knows he’s asking for her help. She watches as his magnificent body heals itself of a vicious gunshot wound and she wonders if he’s come to enslave humans, starting with her.
     
    Of course, she’s probably dreaming. After all, magnificent feline aliens don’t normally roam the woods behind Alli’s home. If he’s still there, in her bed, in the morning...well, she’ll worry about it then.
     
     
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