Gertie's Paranormal Plantation: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy by Melanie James Page A

backwards.
    Vasili countered my retreat by moving closer. He gracefully went around behind me and lifted the hair from the back of my neck. His breath was close enough that I grew goose bumps. I swear they touched his lips. “You have something I want, something I need—”
    “Stop right there, Vasili.” I spun around and put my hands on his chest. Darcy jumped away from my grasp. I patted Vasili’s sculpted chest. “Now, I sure appreciate all of your attention. I certainly do. It’s very flattering, but…” My hands seemed to have told my brain to take a break. They had stopped patting Vasili’s chest and were now practically stroking him. I pried them away and quietly cleared my throat. “I really can’t. I’m sorry.” I walked away at a brisk pace. Darcy caught up to me and I returned her to the place on my chest.
    “That. Oh, that was close. What got into me, Darcy?”
    “Meow. Meow.”
    “Maybe nothing got into me. After all, I behaved with the utmost maturity.” We walked for a minute. “Damn it. I can’t decide if I’ll regret pushing him away or if I’d regret it if I let him do what he had in mind. Good lord.” My thoughts had me crossing the yard like I was marching in an invisible army. “Something just doesn’t feel right about Vasili.”
    I stopped in midstride. A pale corpse was laid out just off the back porch. “Oh my God. He’s a killer! He dumped a body in my yard.” I tiptoed up to the body. The features of the dead person’s face became recognizable. “Randy? Oh my God! Vasili killed Randy!” Darcy leapt out of my flailing arms. Cats always land on their feet, and all four of Darcy’s landed perfectly, claws fully extended, on the bare chest of Randy’s pale corpse.
    Randy jumped in the air, squealing like a scalded pig. I nearly fainted. “You’re supposed to be dead!” I barked at him.
    Randy swiped at the blood oozing from the fresh claw marks. “Supposed to be dead? That’s your plan? To kill me by throwing your rabies infested cat at me? What did I ever do to you?”
    “No. No, I thought you were dead.” My shock faded and now I was just plain amused. “Or perhaps Casper the Ghost passed out in our yard. What are you doing lying in the grass half naked anyway?”
    Randy was blushing. “For your information, I was taking advantage of this unusually nice day and trying to get some sun.” Darcy circled around Randy as if she were a skilled assassin ready to finish the job.
    “Aha! So you were hoping Vasili would stop by? I see. Well, don’t get your hopes up, or your Randy Johnson for that matter. Let’s go inside. I really need to talk.”

Chapter Eight
    Randy’s Counseling Session
    Once inside, Randy nosed around in a cabinet above the sink and took out our bottle of Jameson. This was something I learned from the Irish Sisters of Mercy, every good household keeps a bottle of Irish whisky around for medicinal purposes. With a towel clutched against his wounded chest, he managed to pour us two glass tumblers. “Since you look like you’ve seen a ghost and I’ve nearly been slaughtered by that vicious cat attack, I think we could use some therapy.” I quickly finished off my drink in two very audible gulps. Randy watched in admiration. “My Gertie, you do have something on your mind.”
    I turned the glass over to discourage any refills. “Yes, I do. So I was going about looking for the goat, what do you suppose I come across? Vasili. Shirtless, smooth talking, kiss stealing, sexy Vasili.”
    “Oh my. Kiss stealing? Please, don’t hold back any lurid details. Go on.” Randy begged happily. “I’ll be satisfied to enjoy my vicarious fantasies about Vasili through you, sweetheart.”
    “Sorry to disappoint you. He just…well…there’s something about him. I mean other than the fact that he’s incredibly handsome, and he has a beautiful accent, and—”
    “And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of? Oh yeah, I’ve noticed.”
    “No. Well,