All The Queen's Men
by Megan Hussey
In her own special way, every woman is a queen. In these sensual, empowering stories, a collection of unique and all-powerful women seize control of their lives, their professions, and their loves. Their men, of course, are the stuff of dreams. Allow these sexy, willing to please hunks make you feel like a queen.
Release Date: February 18, 2020
Genre: Fantasy - Short Story Collection
~ A Pink Satin Romance ~
The Queen of Emeralds
The sea proved his one true haven...and, for that matter, his only kingdom.
Oh sure, Gabriel did devote his days to the theatrical portrayal of a prince in an underwater show; one that required him to wear a fake fin, a fake accent of indeterminate origin, and a fake—and thankfully waterproof—crown.
“OK, so only two from three of these objects are actually and certifiably fake,” he admitted, floating now in the depths of his natural element: the aquiline waters of Port Emerald, Florida.
As the lead in a most unique production of Cinderella, one performed underwater by professional swimmers, dancers and fitness models, Gabriel often joked that he was one of the few cast members to approach the production with his original body parts on display—and not an implant in sight.
“Not that a single plastic surgeon in this region offers anything akin to a ‘finplant,’” he mused, shifting his very real emerald appendage beneath him in the water. “And all things considered, I'm betting that my possession of the genuine article made me a virtual shoe in for the role of the prince.”
“Gabriel was what some might call a real live merman (“Better than a real dead merman, I suppose,” he deadpanned). And while he enjoyed the newly minted acting career that this status had landed him—one that required him to report three times a week to the Neptune Park aquarium, where he co-starred with swimsuit model Cindy Sue Hamilburg in the original production, “Cinders By the Sea”—he never quite felt at ease while swimming for an audience; a collection of people who seemed to regard him as some sort of underwater freak.
“Well, the men do at least,” he reflected with a smirk. “Female audience members generally refer to me as a ‘stud’ of some sort. Now I did take a moment to look up the word stud in a dictionary at the Port Emerald Library and learned that a stud is apparently an upright support in a building wall, to which drywall is attached. Color me confused.”
After performing his daily shows and meeting with park guests for photo and autograph sessions (“Some people seem inordinately excited when I sign my name on a piece of random paper,” he mused with a bewildered frown, “Color me more confused still.”), Gabriel dove once again into the oversized aquarium that served as the setting for their theatrical production; swimming clear and clean beyond its bounds to escape to the bay beyond.
Here he had no lines to deliver and no audience members to impress and, instead of diving to impress, he could swim along at an easy cadence and bask in the radiance of his nature borne home.
Floating unencumbered through the crystalline waves that defined Port Emerald Bay, he passed between lush lines of gold and lavender coral and above iridescent water lilies in every color of the rainbow; also admiring the brethren of the sea that swam in broad circles around him.
He found it so odd that—even as a human (well basically and essentially human, give or take the fin)—he far preferred the company of diamond-hued dolphins, pearl pink guppies and whimsical sea turtles to the humans he’d met on land; many of whom seemed to fixate on the accumulation of material goods and the pursuit of power.
“If only they knew the true wonder of living underwater—where your next meal floats easily before you in the form of seaweed, or just onshore where you can pick ripe round cherries and golden bananas for a real feast,” he pondered, pausing to admire an exquisite mauve seashell that hovered in the aqua, just beyond his reach. “And down here, you can eat in peace—enjoying the company of a big-mouthed bass that, despite his name, is not nearly as vocal as the co-star who regales you with tales of the apparently subar mani/pedi she received earlier that day; one that, as subpar and thoroughly unworthy of her cuticles as it proved to be, did not succeed in marring her overall perfection.”
“Fates be thanked,” Gabriel rolled his eyes toward the surface of the sea; all the while suddenly wishing that he’d never again have to break the waves—leaving the underwater home he so adored to rejoin the mad beehive that some people referred to as ‘civilization.’