HC

  “An old rock song, Wimpy?” my wife Paddy asked as I kissed the top of her head.

  She was sitting in a lounge on the public starliner that was taking us to Andromeda Galaxy, glass of white wine in one hand, scrolling through the most recent short story I’d written for her.

  “It is too much?” I asked, truly curious. The music aspect of my stories seemed to get stronger and stronger with each one I wrote, and I didn’t want to go overboard and turn them into cheesy nostalgia.

  It was supposed to be comedy, and the worst thing about sequels was repeated jokes. If a joke landed well the first time around, let it stay there; don’t try to re-hash it. That was my philosophy.

  “I love this story! It’s fun, and the big bad is completely different. So you didn’t retell the same plot line,” Paddy assured me. “The rock song has a lyric that is fortuitous for our current circumstances, so I think it’s perfect."

  "‘Surrender all your dreams to me tonight; they’ll come true in the end.’ What could be a better anthem than that for our first trip off Earth? We’re seeing a dream of ours come true, Wimpy. Going all the way to Andromeda, so I love it. Don’t change a thing,” Paddy assured me.

  In case you’re wondering what we were doing traveling the stars in our free time, well, that’s a long story you can read about elsewhere. In this volume, I’m telling you the simple, upbeat version of my life to give you a taste of my escapades. Let you see my world through the eyes of two women I made up, but who live in the hearts of readers all over the Known Cosmos.

  “Thanks, love. I'd better read through it again before I send it to the beta readers in case I missed any minor edits.” I squeezed her hand and sat next to her on the sofa, opening my pad to review my latest Harley and Muriel adventure, “Murder Auld."

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  I knocked back the final drops of Pinot Grigio. I was two glasses in, which is exactly how I needed to be for what was about to happen.

  “I’m ready when you are, Red,” came my wife’s voice down the hallway, and not long after, she poked her head around the kitchen door. “You look amazing!”

  She was right, of course. I had on my favorite purple angora sweater over a cream corduroy miniskirt and brown tights. The look was finished off with tan suede ankle boots with three-inch heels, giving me that extra boost and swagger that said, “I’m sexy, and I know it.”

  I smiled at Harley, “You don’t look so bad yourself, Barbytron.”

  “This old thang?” she fluttered her lashes, but looked better than any Barby could in black tights with a red sweater dress that hugged her figure and knee-high black boots.

  The boots were needed for the evening because Seattle had gotten six inches of snow last night, and we were trodding on foot to our New Year’s Eve house-pub crawl. That’s why I was chugging the pre-event wine.

  The friends' pub crawl was the only concession I made to social activities during the holiday season because it was Harley’s favorite night of the year. She absolutely loved New Year’s Eve, so I plowed through my social anxiety with the help of my friend Pinot and went along with her to a series of parties.

  A few years ago, I’d agreed to the annual event with the caveat that I didn’t want to host. I paid for the night’s alcohol for everybody, took my famous eggnog to the first location, then drank away the evening, pretending to enjoy bonding with our friends. After surviving until midnight, I crashed back at home, glad I didn’t have to do anything like it again for a whole year.

  It’s not that I didn’t like people. Well, perhaps that’s not exactly true. Most people I could take or leave, if I’m being honest, but Harley’s friends were actually enjoyable. Mostly because they didn’t expect me to say much, fed me amazing food, and had endless stories and jokes that kept each other entertained.

  So, it was easy to spend a night out with them, and nine times out of ten, we wound up playing virtual reality games that I loved. That setup worked well for me, even though my preference was staying home with a movie and a pizza on the couch under a cozy blanket with my wife snuggled next to me.

  Harley wound her arms around my waist, planting a kiss on my lips, “Wine on board, Red?”

  I nodded, forehead against hers. “I’m set. It’ll be great, no problem.”

  She grinned against my lips. “Thanks for doing this. You know—“

  “How much you love it; I know, love. Let’s go! The night awaits.”

  “Yeee!” She jumped up and down, and I grabbed the eggnog from the fridge. Fingers intertwined, we headed out on foot to the first house where appetizers awaited.