Cheyenne McCray - Return to Wonderland 01 - Lord Kir of Oz.pdf

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Lord Kir of Oz
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LORD KIR OF OZ
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, August 2005
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
1056 Home Avenue
Akron, OH 44310
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0325-X
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
LORD KIR OF OZ Copyright © 2005 CHEYENNE MCCRAY & MACKENZIE MCKADE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales
is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited by Heather Osborn .
Cover art by Christine Clavel .
Warning:
The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Lord Kir of Oz has been
rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-
rotic), and X (X-treme).
S- ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
E- rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall
word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find
objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated
titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as
“fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.
X- treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles,
stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
LORD KIR OF OZ
Cheyenne McCray & Mackenzie McKade
Dedication
To Bill, Cindy, Ashley, Sammy, Tia, and Dusty. One awesome family!
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the
following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Mustang: Ford Motor Company
Twilight Zone: CBS Broadcasting, Inc.
Lord Kir of Oz
Chapter One
A tight breath of that almost-free feeling pushed from Dorothy Abigail Osborne’s
chest.
It was time to do it or die.
Aunt Maye was still in town. Before her elderly relative came home, Abby would
get ready, shore up her courage and pack her things. She had to get moving before she
chickened out again.
Abby marched up the creaking wooden steps of her aunt’s farmhouse and flipped
her single braid over one shoulder. There was attitude in her gait. She could feel it.
Attitude was good. Attitude led to confidence.
Didn’t it?
She stopped at the top step. The breath of freedom turned into a hitch in her side.
“Steady,” she told herself out loud. “Damn it. I’m not going to freak out. My life is
going to change, and by God, it starts today. Right this minute.”
Warmth flowed through her veins, hotter than a shot of tequila. Wind tugged at her
work shirt, the cool breeze caressing her heated skin, sending a layer of goose bumps
tingling across her arms. At breakfast this morning, the TV anchorman warned of a
weather change. And sure enough, dark storm clouds rode the horizon.
“Smells like rain.”
Breathing freely once more, Abby headed across the wooden porch. Her boots
clunked as her lungs filled with the clean, fresh scent of the oncoming storm—along
with another odor that made her brows furrow and her nose crinkle. She sniffed once,
twice, before casting a downward glance—and stopping in her tracks one more time.
“ Ahhhh , man …” Pig shit clung to her boots like gum too long in the sun. “Please
don’t tell me this is a sign of how the rest of my day is gonna go.”
Stop it! You’re going to psych yourself out.
She felt like the farm was trying to grab hold of her, tell her she belonged where she
was, that she was a part of this boring old place and she’d never escape. She wanted to
deny it with all of her soul, but damn if she didn’t fit right in with all the pungent
smells of the barn.
She rolled her eyes skyward. “There’s no place like home.”
Frowning at the gummy crap trying to ruin her mood, she shook her head. No way
would she let a little pig shit take the wind out of her sails. She stomped her boots,
wiped them on a nearby throw mat, then gave the mat a good kick across the porch.
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