Naomi gasped in terror as the burning roof collapsed in on the house Derek had just charged back into. “No!” her mind cried, “I can’t lose him again! Not now… now that I can finally allow another man in my heart!”

But then suddenly his tall, rugged frame appeared, silhouetted against the towering flames in the night, hunched around a small figure enfolded in his strong arms. Derek straightened, and crossed to where the little girl’s mother was frantically clutching for her child.

“Oh, gracias! Gracias! You saved my little niña!” she cried, weeping in joy.

“It’s my job, Ma’am. I’m grateful we were here when she needed us”, Lt. Derek Storm replied. “You should let the paramedics see her.”

Then, across the tangled hoses, his eyes met Naomi’s, and he saw nothing else. Striding to her and sweeping her into his arms, he held her tight as she wept into his smoky hair. “Oh, Derek, can you forgive me! Forgive me for running away from your love! I thought I had lost you, but now I can never let you go!”

“I love you, Naomi! I want to marry you! Will you TELL ME WHERE MY SOCCER SHOES ARE?! MOM! WHERE ARE YOU?”

I gave a jerk and dropped my book, seeing it vanish under the few remaining bubbles on the top of the water. Dammit, just as it was getting to the good part.

“Quit yelling, Gina! I’m in the tub, and your shoes are where you left them in the kitchen, when you kicked them off last night!”

I sighed, and lifted the sodden wad of paper from the tub. The lurid cover illustration of the hunky firefighter embracing the feisty redhead stuck to the pages. I guessed I wouldn’t be finishing “Firestorm!” any time soon.

"Jackson! We've got a Stage One Contact wave! Get into the rig!"

I just had time to pick up some bread and bananas and stuff before I had to get Gina from soccer practice. Juggling the groceries onto the conveyor, I was digging though my purse for my wallet, when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. Derek Storm, right off the cover of the romance novel I hadn’t been able to finish. He even had a smudge of soot on his square, cleft chin. He was walking right over to stand at the end of the counter, looking at me as if he was about to speak…

“$18.22,” said the checkout clerk, and I distractedly turned to hand her a $20.

“Naomi, I need your help…” I heard Derek rumble in a deep baritone.

Turning back, I said, “Huh? What?”

“I asked if you wanted paper or plastic, Ma’am”, said the sallow, pimply bagger, standing at the end of the counter.

I blinked, in befuddlement. That was weird. “Uh… paper?”

I saw Derek twice more on the way home after picking up Gina. Once, he was driving a city bus passing me in the opposite direction, and once he was standing at the curb while looking at his watch. A blink later and he was gone, a business man standing where he had been. Okay, this wasn’t funny any more.

As soon as I got home I went to the trash to find the ruined paperback I had tossed into recycling three days ago. Gina wandered out on the stoop and watched me poking through the small pile.

“You know yesterday was garbage day, Mom. Whatever it is you are looking for is at the dump,” she finally said, after seeing me sort through three times.

"Listen, Jackson, you've got to get the proximity tighter. I need to be able to stabilize the locality matrixes."

Derek looked at me with a smear of black ashes on his face, and said, “I checked the back room, Ma’am. I’m afraid we don’t have any copies of “Firestorm” in stock.”

I closed my eyes in frustration, and, as I was beginning to expect, when I opened them the usual goth girl bookstore clerk stood there. “Would you like me to try to order it?”

" I'm telling you, Ferguson, the Stage Two Proxy Avatars aren't working. We can't hold phase long enough to convince her. I've got to go for Stage Three Physical Manifestation before the subject completely loses synch."

Finally! I thought, as the overnight delivery truck pulled up. It was worth the rush charge to get that damn book here. Of course, Derek jumped out of the truck in a soot stained brown uniform, and crossed to the porch. I flung the door open before he could ring the bell.

He held out the shipping box and a clip board in his sinewy fingers, and said, “Naomi! You’ve got to help us! It’s getting more and more difficult to hold phase. Whatever you do, don’t finish reading the book!”

“But… I’m not Naomi…” I said.

“Whatever, just sign there,” said the balding delivery driver.

This one is a bit of a strange concept. What I’m looking for is a romantic RP with someone who is either a theoretical scientist from another dimension, or a figment of imagination in the head of a lonely single mother who is slowly going insane.

The idea is that people from another plane of existence have found a way to cross into this world. However, they can only manifest themselves here in our world by “channeling” a character from a fictional story, and then only to someone momentarily lost in the story. But, as soon as the subject's belief in the reality of the situation wavers, they are snapped back home. This is why “Derek” doesn’t want me to end the story he is inhabiting. The more I believe in his “reality”, the more real he actually becomes on this plane. So he’s decided the best way to do that is to seduce me out of my socks.

I’d love a RP pen pal who likes some complexity, isn’t afraid to help me flesh out this weird idea, and can write a few paragraphs at a whack! Bonus if you can keep everything in past tense and know what onomatopoeia are. Please remember, this is a character I'm playing, not really me. Know the difference between "in scene" and "not in scene". This will probably turn out to be a LTRP, but I’m not looking to be high volume. Maybe a thrice-a-week exchange? Let's discuss it all in PMs before we jump in.

Yes please to Harlequin Romance cliches, Science Fiction technobabble, and mysterious strangers that bump in the night.

Nope to brutality, death, torture, and toilet play. Other kinks negotiable… tell me what you like; I’m not shy.