Prologue

Placing her back inches from a large tree, Brenda stooped down and teased open a brown canvas satchel. The occasional wind-rush of a car traveling on the road, several yards away, served as a reminder that civilization seemed always to be only one step away. Her son, dear Christopher, had dropped her off on that highway a little over an hour ago. Brenda planned to return to the same rest area, four miles distant, at eleven a.m. tomorrow. Then her niece would pick her up there. Brenda intended to spend the night in the woods. A car left in the parking lot would provoke the Park Rangers into scouring the forest for her. That would hardly suit her needs.

From this parking lot, the Park Department maintained a seven-mile hiking trail. Hikers could follow this pathway as it wound its course up a mountain, and looped back to this lot. The trek was a scenic circuit. Numerous sparkling pools of mountain water were nested in solid stone. Small waterfalls and caves were chiseled out of the densely wooded mountainside by a labyrinth of small streams. Most tourists walked the confines of this course and returned feeling they had really experienced the wilderness. For the truly initiated; this is only the manicured door-stoop leading to a world where all boundaries to what is primal, and what is civilized, can become gray and hazy.

Brenda inventoried the contents of the medium-sized daypack again as she peripherally monitored the nearby family. The canvas sack held a blanket, a poncho and a beach towel.

The poncho was folded to hold a black silk scarf and also shrouded a quart bottle of blackberry brandy. A camera, a sketchpad and a hairbrush were also nested in the pack. Wrapped inside of the towel was a neon-green cylinder, ten inches in length. The tube was two inches in diameter, with a gently rounded nosecone on one end. The vibrator also had a knurled flat butt, which overlapped a small electrical switch on the opposite end. The device was accompanied by a black and silky nightgown. A pair of black pump high-heeled shoes with ankle straps had been secreted at the pack's bottom. The one remaining item was a small, jade vial, which had a screw on cap. Butterflies nudged against the inside of Brenda's ribcage as she wrestled with the anticipation of the adventure ahead.

It was only two o'clock, and yet it was getting late to start up the trail. Some of it was steep, and although the path was open to the public until dark, most people tried to be out of the woods for supper. Indian summer was upon the land with fierce warmth that rivaled the climate of summer. This was October's second week and the darkness of night would soothe the heated blisters of day by seven o'clock.

Although five vehicles were in the parking lot, the only other people in the staging area were a tourist family with license plates from an adjacent state.

The doting parents tended to a whining six-year old boy, as his slightly older brother and sister explored the perimeter of the parking area. Brenda's shoulder-length straight blonde tresses draped forward and veiled her impish blue eyes. She was watching them, and biding her time. Brenda wanted them to go ahead and enter the trail. Then she could be the last person to enter the trail today. Brenda's eyes sparkled as she rationalized that she had her reasons and needs to have the forest to herself.

Drawing the pack flap closed and cinching the hasp straps, she drew the pack between her tanned knees and leaned back against the chip-shingle bark of a Hickory trunk. This caused her cargo shorts to hike to the upper thighs of shapely legs and her light flannel shirt to snag on the rough bark in several places. Brenda caught the "Papa tourist" ogling her and nervously she smiled and moved the pack closer to her tummy. This caused him to tremble in an agitated manner. Brenda had never considered the enticing appearance that she projected, as she had smiled and drawn the pack against her crotch.

Chapter 1 »