There was an undercurrent of moaning, and an occasional scream or shriek. Anne realized that, for practical purposes, she was no longer Thomas Marlow'... wife. Few would know that he had even been married; fewer would remember Anne, and perhaps no one would know that she was still alive. Thomas might even remarry. She had no one, no friend, no husband, no contact with her parents, who might well be dead by now, murdered by savages in the jungles of Africa. Why had God made her, if her life had no. "My sex slave!" she hollered. I groaned."I thought you were my kidnapping victim," I answered as she hugged me."You read what you want; I'll read what I want," she said. Turning she introduced the goddess standing behind her. "Captain Chaos, this is Cynthia, my manager and my mother." Pleased to meet you, ma'am," I said. At least I hope that's what came out. It could have been incoherent guttural noises but if it was I didn't want to know. "And that's Mayhem, Daniel Mayhem." So you're the one. More

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