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Goblin Market 2005
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents either are products of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Goblin Market 2005
Copyright © 2005 Ann Vremont
ISBN: 1-55410-590-0
Cover art and design by Ann Vremont
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the
reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in
part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or
other means, now known or hereafter invented, is
forbidden without the written permission of the
publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya
Publications, 2005
Look for us online at:
www.zumayapublications.com
www.extasybooks.com
id you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Squeezed from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me:
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men.”
“The Goblin Market,” Christina Rossetti (1862)
Ann Vremont
Chapter One
rancesca Schiavo stood behind the couch in her
living room. The lights throughout the condo were
turned off, the only illumination coming from the
flicker of a horror DVD playing on the television. Her
fiancé, Mike, was stretched across the couch, a
stadium blanket covering his lower body. A shadow
among shadows, she could see the bulk of one hand
covering his crotch.
“You’re not touching yourself, are you?” she
teased softly.
Mike jumped to a sitting position and placed the
hand that had been under the blanket across his chest.
Taking in a deep, shaky breath, he turned to her.
“God, Frankie, you scared the shit out of me!”
Francesca moved around the couch, her gaze on
the set as she threaded her way through the shoes and
bags on the floor. Studiously avoiding a glance in his
direction, she sat down next to him and picked up a
bowl of popcorn from the floor. Tucking her legs
beneath her, she continued ignoring him and stared at
the television. He put an arm around her shoulder
and took a handful of popcorn.
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Goblin Market 2005
“I didn’t hear you pull up,” he said. “How long
have you been here?”
“Long enough to see you touching yourself,” she
answered and turned to nip his ear.
Even though it was too dark to see, Francesca
knew that her teasing accusation would not make
Mike blush. Nothing sexual made him blush. Oh,
there were places he wouldn’t go in the bedroom—
things he wouldn’t do. And an angry flush would
color his cheeks when certain subjects were broached.
But a modest blush of embarrassment? Never.
As if he was reading her thoughts, Mike slipped
his hand under the bowl and rubbed a thumb along
the thin seam of her clinic scrubs. “Just waiting until I
could touch you.” He breathed the words into her ear,
his warm breath moistening the skin along her neck.
Francesca shifted away from him under the
pretense of finding the remote. She adjusted the
volume and then settled back against the couch.
Onscreen, a group of survivors were about to be
swarmed in a tunnel by a mob of the zombie-like
diseased. She nudged him and pointed at the
television. “We were talking about this in class,” she
said.
“About the possibility of it really happening?” he
asked while he tried to find an exposed area of her
neck.
Francesca shrugged away. They had fought before
she left for class and she was still pissed, her ego
refusing to quicken at his touch, despite her body’s
eager need. They were, she counted, up to round
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