Part 1 (1/2)
Glimpse Time Travel.
Enemy of Mine.
Red L. Jameson.
Prologue.
”The poor girl is so exhausted, she's sleeping through your rummaging around in her underwear drawer. Or wait, is that a herd of buffalo stomping through Erva's things?” Clio snaked a dark red brow high at her sister, Erato.
Erato, clad like Clio, in a golden toga also with burgundy-colored hair and smelling of Mediterranean lavenders, pulled out a purple thong. ”Girl? I think not. She's a woman. Looky here.”
Clio giggled, but then sucked in her mirth with a bite of her lip. ”Stop it. You always get me into trouble.”
”Well, what are you doing here anyway? I thought we'd planned to go to that male stripper club.” Erato looked around the dark and bland bedroom. Even cheap hotel rooms had more character. The only human element to it was the piled books and papers strewed about the nondescript floor. ”Instead I find you here in this G.o.d-awful mess.” Then, Erato snorted. ”Get it? G.o.d-awful?”
Clio rolled her eyes. ”We're muses, not G.o.ds, love. And I'm not convinced I'm awful.”
”Nice. Insult your own sister, why don't you?”
With a smirk Clio sat close to Minerva Ferguson, Erva, on her beige bed. While Erva slept soundly, Clio pulled back a few strands of long blonde hair from her creamy complexion, sighed, and smiled at her sister. ”We're here, because...because...”
”Oh G.o.d, not again.”
Clio cleared her throat. ”She's so deserving, Sister. I've been watching Erva for quite a while now. She finished her dissertation two years ago, but her supervisor won't let her argue it, won't let her graduate. She should have been a professor by now. Instead, she works like a dog for her supervisor, a Dr. Peabody. Can you believe that name? Anyhow, Erva has been working tirelessly for a place at her university; she is one of the most knowledgeable in her area of expertise; she's being held back by evil Dr. Peabody; and-oh!-she's had one hades of a bad day today. The dean observed her cla.s.ses-all of them-and in her last cla.s.s one of her students accidentally poured water down her front. She looked like she was going to enter a wet t-s.h.i.+rt contest. In front of her dean! She was mortified.”
Erato leaned over her sister to stare down at the human in pink flannel pajamas. ”She's got great b.o.o.bs, that's why the little accident happened. Are those even real?”
Clio growled and turned quickly, making Erato fall on Erva in a lump of giggles.
As Erva stirred, Erato scurried off her to sit closer to her sister. Erva curled in a ball on her side, fists tucked under her chin.
”Did you drug her?” Erato asked.
Clio shook her head. ”She did that herself. She drank a whole bottle of Moscato wine before bed.”
Erato sighed. ”She's been beat up by the world. What else is new, Clio? Why do you always do this? You think you can save everyone?”
”I don't think I can save everyone.”
”Just historians?”
”Well, why not? I am their muse, after all.”
”You don't see me saving every romance writer, do you?”
”Um, yeah.” Clio crossed her arms. ”The rise in romance writing is monumental. Further, many romance writers are finally making good money too. You can't tell me you didn't have something to do with that.”
Erato bit her bottom lip playfully.
”I knew it!”
Erato pressed a finger against her full lips. ”Shh, Sissy. You'll wake your new project.”
”So you're agreeing with me? You think I should give Erva a glimpse?”
Erato shrugged. ”Why not? Where is she heading?”
Clio couldn't help but chuckle again as she scooted even closer to her sister. ”That's the fun part! Minerva's doctorate pertains to the American Revolution, but get this. This little all-American, blonde, doe-eyed girl is in love with a British officer of years afore. Her dissertation defends one of the youngest English generals to serve during the war.”
Erato arched a brow. ”So she's in love with her former enemy?”
Clio smiled appreciatively.
”I love complications.”
”Oh, I do too, Erato.” Clio took a large inhalation, then gently shook Erva's shoulder, while Erato pulled more blonde hair from Erva's face. ”Waky, waky, little historian.”
Erva moaned, but didn't open her eyes.
Erato leaned forward until she was a couple inches from Erva's face, then screamed, ”Oy! Wake up!”
Erva sat up with a start, fists swinging, her eyes hardly open enough to see.
”Oh, I like her. She's a fighter,” Erato said.
”I know. She's quite deserving of this.”
Erva looked from one muse to the other in blurry-eyed wonder. ”I'm dreaming.”
Clio chuckled while she shook her head. ”No, dear girl. I'm afraid you're not.”
”Are you going to rob me then? In togas?”
Erato giggled. ”The only thing I like that you own are all those thongs. You're a bit of a randy girl underneath the nerdy historian exterior, aren't you?”
”You know what kind of underwear I wear? Are you Homeland Security? Please don't waterboard me.”
Erato turned to her sister. ”She's funny too. I really like her.”
Clio nodded and found Erva's slender hands. After placing them in hers, she said, ”Sweet girl, you're still drunk and think you're dreaming. But you're not. You're going to wake in a different century, in a different town too. I hope you like New York City in 1776.”
”What's her boyfriend's name?” Erato asked.
”General William Hill.”