READ AN EXCERPT FROM
TROY -
LOVERS IN THE MISTS
TROY -
LOVERS IN THE MISTS
Suddenly horses appeared before him, racing toward a fog—a
team of perfectly matched white stallions. He wasn’t in his car,
but in a chariot at full speed, driving them to race faster. He was
angry, distressed, and covered in blood. Tears streaked his face.
Genia’s scream broke the hallucination.
* * * *
At first it was his own scream of anguish, abruptly joined by Genia’s.
Reality returned. Seeing the danger, he quickly depressed the brake
and clutch pedal, and the Ferrari slid to a safe stop—at the end of the
road. Seconds more and they would have left the road and been on
the sand of the beach. Achilles put his head down on the steering
wheel, shaken.
“What was it you were saying about endangering my life?” Genia
asked, her voice shaking despite her humor.
Almost fearfully, Achilles looked over at Genia, his blue eyes
reddened by tears. She was dazed, but alive and unharmed. In his
hallucination, she was slain, dead at the hands of her father,
Agamemnon, as a sacrifice to the goddess Artemis. Without a word,
Achilles got out of the car alone, leaving Genia behind. He walked
down to the beach, his face pale, his hands trembling. He felt he didn’t
deserve her now. After just swearing to protect her, he had almost
killed her. Never in his life had anything like this happened to him. He
knew her life was in terrible danger from the professor. He knew
without further doubt he was the reincarnation of Achilles, and the
professor the reincarnation of Agamemnon. By Homer’s account in
the Iliad, Genia would be Iphigenia and should already be dead,
sacrificed to Artemis to appease the goddess.
Promised as Achilles’ bride, she happily walked to her death, thinking
she was going to her wedding. When she reached the altar, her father
Agamemnon slew her to the cheers of his men, anxious to be on their
way to war.
Achilles felt a presence beside him and glanced over to see Genia
next to him. “What happened back there?” she asked.
“I was blessed.” He paused to draw a deep breath of the fresh sea air,
his tone of voice sarcastic. “With a vision,” Achilles finished.
“Oh no, not you too,” Genia exclaimed. “Of what?” She was afraid to
ask.
“I was driving a chariot, covered in blood. I was extremely angry and
hurt. I had just lost the woman—I loved,” Achilles told her in quiet
tones.
“Who?”
“Iphigenia,” Achilles answered.
“That is what I was afraid of,” Genia whispered, her voice failing her,
her legs wobbling as she sank down on the warm sand. “You know,
this time last week,” she said in a quiet, disbelieving tone, “I was in the
States, a normal university student, excited about this trip and doing
the things everyone does to come on this type of journey.” She drew a
ragged breath.
Achilles sank down next to her, sitting so close their arms touched. His
arm went around her, and he drew her close.
Genia laid her head on his shoulder. Neither spoke. They sat and
stared at the sea and the sky. Achilles had been correct— the beach
was deserted. Kisses lightly placed on the top of Genia’s head moved
lower over her face and back to caress an ear and tease her earlobe,
sending a shiver of delight through her and leaving goose bumps
behind. Genia giggled, only to have the sound smothered by Achilles’
lips when he drew her into his arms and a longer embrace. Her fingers
combed through his dark blond hair as she lay cradled in his arms; his
kisses becoming more demanding and ardent, taking control of her
breathing.
His hands soon found the buttons on her khaki blouse and loosened
them. He grumbled about the bra she wore but slipped his hand
beneath the silk fabric to fondle the soft globes of flesh with their hard,
olive-sized nipples, drawing a sigh of pleasure from Genia. Achilles
began to push her blouse from her shoulders but met with some
resistance.
“Achilles, it’s broad daylight and a public beach— someone will come,”
Genia said in a breathless objection.
“You may be right,” he agreed, but the lust and humor in his eyes told
her he didn’t plan to stop. Achilles rose and went to the car, where he
retrieved a blanket. Then, taking her by the hand, he led her up a
narrow path into a stand of thick trees, to a spot well hidden but roomy
enough for them to spread the blanket. Smiling, he drew her down on
the blanket, resuming where he’d left off, removing his shirt as she
took off her blouse, noticing her blush before he folded their clothes
across a tree limb. He clearly saw hesitation in her eyes, knowing
Genia wasn’t one to freely abandon all caution, but neither would he
be denied.
“So close,” he said in a voice hoarse with feeling. “I intend to keep you
so close, I cannot lose you. I never intend to let you go; I’ve
waited…so long.” Now he seemed to remember how many centuries
they had passed in other lives, not quite touching, or touching, yet
continuing on, out of reach. Hot lips found her sun-warmed nipples
and sucked on them; they stood erect in the early afternoon light that
filtered through the tree canopy. Achilles decided he would lose the
memory of seeing Genia slain by creating a new one—a vision of
making
love to her, here, in the sunshine……..
team of perfectly matched white stallions. He wasn’t in his car,
but in a chariot at full speed, driving them to race faster. He was
angry, distressed, and covered in blood. Tears streaked his face.
Genia’s scream broke the hallucination.
* * * *
At first it was his own scream of anguish, abruptly joined by Genia’s.
Reality returned. Seeing the danger, he quickly depressed the brake
and clutch pedal, and the Ferrari slid to a safe stop—at the end of the
road. Seconds more and they would have left the road and been on
the sand of the beach. Achilles put his head down on the steering
wheel, shaken.
“What was it you were saying about endangering my life?” Genia
asked, her voice shaking despite her humor.
Almost fearfully, Achilles looked over at Genia, his blue eyes
reddened by tears. She was dazed, but alive and unharmed. In his
hallucination, she was slain, dead at the hands of her father,
Agamemnon, as a sacrifice to the goddess Artemis. Without a word,
Achilles got out of the car alone, leaving Genia behind. He walked
down to the beach, his face pale, his hands trembling. He felt he didn’t
deserve her now. After just swearing to protect her, he had almost
killed her. Never in his life had anything like this happened to him. He
knew her life was in terrible danger from the professor. He knew
without further doubt he was the reincarnation of Achilles, and the
professor the reincarnation of Agamemnon. By Homer’s account in
the Iliad, Genia would be Iphigenia and should already be dead,
sacrificed to Artemis to appease the goddess.
Promised as Achilles’ bride, she happily walked to her death, thinking
she was going to her wedding. When she reached the altar, her father
Agamemnon slew her to the cheers of his men, anxious to be on their
way to war.
Achilles felt a presence beside him and glanced over to see Genia
next to him. “What happened back there?” she asked.
“I was blessed.” He paused to draw a deep breath of the fresh sea air,
his tone of voice sarcastic. “With a vision,” Achilles finished.
“Oh no, not you too,” Genia exclaimed. “Of what?” She was afraid to
ask.
“I was driving a chariot, covered in blood. I was extremely angry and
hurt. I had just lost the woman—I loved,” Achilles told her in quiet
tones.
“Who?”
“Iphigenia,” Achilles answered.
“That is what I was afraid of,” Genia whispered, her voice failing her,
her legs wobbling as she sank down on the warm sand. “You know,
this time last week,” she said in a quiet, disbelieving tone, “I was in the
States, a normal university student, excited about this trip and doing
the things everyone does to come on this type of journey.” She drew a
ragged breath.
Achilles sank down next to her, sitting so close their arms touched. His
arm went around her, and he drew her close.
Genia laid her head on his shoulder. Neither spoke. They sat and
stared at the sea and the sky. Achilles had been correct— the beach
was deserted. Kisses lightly placed on the top of Genia’s head moved
lower over her face and back to caress an ear and tease her earlobe,
sending a shiver of delight through her and leaving goose bumps
behind. Genia giggled, only to have the sound smothered by Achilles’
lips when he drew her into his arms and a longer embrace. Her fingers
combed through his dark blond hair as she lay cradled in his arms; his
kisses becoming more demanding and ardent, taking control of her
breathing.
His hands soon found the buttons on her khaki blouse and loosened
them. He grumbled about the bra she wore but slipped his hand
beneath the silk fabric to fondle the soft globes of flesh with their hard,
olive-sized nipples, drawing a sigh of pleasure from Genia. Achilles
began to push her blouse from her shoulders but met with some
resistance.
“Achilles, it’s broad daylight and a public beach— someone will come,”
Genia said in a breathless objection.
“You may be right,” he agreed, but the lust and humor in his eyes told
her he didn’t plan to stop. Achilles rose and went to the car, where he
retrieved a blanket. Then, taking her by the hand, he led her up a
narrow path into a stand of thick trees, to a spot well hidden but roomy
enough for them to spread the blanket. Smiling, he drew her down on
the blanket, resuming where he’d left off, removing his shirt as she
took off her blouse, noticing her blush before he folded their clothes
across a tree limb. He clearly saw hesitation in her eyes, knowing
Genia wasn’t one to freely abandon all caution, but neither would he
be denied.
“So close,” he said in a voice hoarse with feeling. “I intend to keep you
so close, I cannot lose you. I never intend to let you go; I’ve
waited…so long.” Now he seemed to remember how many centuries
they had passed in other lives, not quite touching, or touching, yet
continuing on, out of reach. Hot lips found her sun-warmed nipples
and sucked on them; they stood erect in the early afternoon light that
filtered through the tree canopy. Achilles decided he would lose the
memory of seeing Genia slain by creating a new one—a vision of
making
love to her, here, in the sunshine……..