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One Thousand and One Dark NightsOnce upon a time, in the future…I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

library at my father’s home and collected thousands

of volumes of fantastic tales.I learned all about ancient races and bygone

times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

people through the millennium. And the more I read

the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

become part of them.I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

would not be telling you this tale now.

But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

with bravery.One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

(Persian: ??????, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand

women.Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

never occurred before and that still to this day, I

cannot explain.Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

protect herself and stay alive.Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

he might hear the rest of my dark tale.As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

you now.Prologue~Sabrina~“We’re out of tampons,” my assistant, Melanie, says with a sigh. “Again.”

“There’s some in the office,” I reply as I open paper bags and line them up on the table. “Someone delivered a whole pallet of them this morning.”

“Thank God.” She hurries away to fetch the feminine hygiene products.

We’ve been filling bags full of tampons, pads, wipes, and encouraging notes all morning. We do this once a month and then deliver the goods to the area middle and high schools. Tomorrow, we’ll pack the same sacks full of healthy snacks and then make another delivery, this time including the elementary school.

Helping kids has become not just a passion for me over the past ten years but also an obsession.

I turn to start gathering more panty liners from a box when I see him walk into my storeroom. Tall. Broad. Disheveled blond hair. And more handsome than any one man has the right to be. A blast from my sordid, better-left-forgotten past. And yet, a sight for sore eyes.

“Are you lost?” I ask and watch a smile slide over his devastating face. How it’s even legal for a man to look like that, I have no idea.

“I found what I was looking for,” he says and pushes a hand into his pocket. His other hand, a gold wedding band glinting on his finger, holds a large envelope. “How are you, Sabrina?”

“I’m great, and curious as to what brings Luke Williams into my storeroom in Bend, Oregon.”

“I came to see you,” he answers. “You’re more beautiful than ever, my friend.”

I narrow my eyes at him. When we starred in a series of films together years ago, Luke and I got close. Since then, we’ve left the spotlight—him to work behind the camera as one of the most sought-after producers in LA., and I left Hollywood altogether.

And never looked back.

“As lovely as it is to see you, I don’t think you’re here just to catch up. Why are you here, Luke?”

He extends the envelope to me. “I have something I want you to read.”

I pull out a movie script. Without even reading the title, I pass it back.

“No, thanks.”

“I know I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Fifteen of them, give or take,” I agree, nod, and go back to filling paper bags. “If you’re going to try to talk me into something, you can at least help me here. These bags won’t fill themselves.”

“Happy to.”

Melanie returns with two big boxes of tampons and almost drops them when she sees Luke.

“Thanks, Mel. Can you give us a minute, please?”

“Is Luke Williams standing here, or am I having a throwback hallucination from my college days?”

I laugh as she sets the boxes on the table. “He’s here. You’re not hallucinating.”

“Okay. Have a good talk.” She smiles and waves awkwardly, tucks her hair behind her ear, and practically stumbles over her feet as she turns to walk away.

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