This is my first written story of this type, so constructive feedback is appreciated. CHAPTER EIGHT As I drove Anita to school the next morning, she s...emed a bit different like she was holding a secret. I was a little concerned and her wild lovemaking the previous afternoon seemed like a good place to start. Can I ask you something, I started. Si Popi, came her reply. You were pretty wild yesterday on the ride home, any particular reason? I asked. She was silent for a little while longer than. Finally, having caught the high-strung warhorse, she trotted swiftly down the slope with her prize, away from the silence and stink of the battlefield. Suddenly she stopped among a clump of stumps and burrs. Right in front of her Fatima beheld a small pack of men retreating. A tall, richly clad warlord stood in their middle. His helmet was gone. He was broad shouldered with skin an almond brown, as was the fashion at the time he sported a mustache and goatee. He was grunting and cursing as he. More

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