A Hoboken Hipster in Sherwood Forest by Marianne Mancusi

By Marianne Mancusi

If Chrissie Hayward knew that morning she'd be going again in time to rescue her loopy coworker Kat, she'd have worn greater sneakers. Doubly so if she'd anticipated to fulfill her real love. based on the mysterious gypsy, Chrissie was once the "gentle soul who might tame an outlaw's thirst for revenge" -- aka the genuine Robin Hood. So how come the fellow used to be one of these dud?


No, Robin of Locksley was once no Prince fascinating. And the half approximately robbing the wealthy to feed the negative? He did not get the memo. in reality, the entire man looked as if it would do was once mope. (And he and his not-so-merry males concept Chrissie used to be a boy. definite, she wasn't stacked, yet still!) still, he used to be dependable and courageous and good-looking as sin. If Chrissie coudl simply get him with the software, she might correct his wagon and get those boyz'n the wooden to be heroes of the world rather than twerps in tights. purely then may perhaps this prince of thieves develop into king of her heart.

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I need to find King Richard. " Robin's eyes darken and the laughter fades from his face, replaced by a scowl. " he asks. Huh? "Uh, no," I say carefully. I certainly hadn't been expecting that reaction. "I really need to talk to the guy. " "To his castle, aye," Robin says with a sigh. "I could direct ye. ‘Tis not far off, in fact. " That'd totally be my luck. "Nay. He is lost. Gone a year too long from the crusades in the east. " Oh, that's just freaking great. Nimue sent me back in time to the wrong year?

After listening to a few polyphonic bars of the Jefferson Airplane ringtone, I reach in and pull out my phone. " I say, putting the receiver to my ear. There's static on the other end of the line. Typical upstate New York reception. At least the residents’ babies won't die of cancer from living in close proximity to countless cell phone towers tike the rest of us probably will. I'm totally anti-cell phone and wouldn't even own one if work didn't require it. " I repeat, walking a few steps away from the car, seeking a better signal.

Robin gasps. Ewww. Isn't that a guy who got his you-know-whats cut off? What makes him think I'm one of those? As I remain silent, Robin adds thoughtfully, "A choir boy. I thought perhaps you were actually a woman. You stand tall as a man, yet have no hint of a beard. " I decide to run with his suggestion. " I slap my knee in hysterics over his ridiculous statement. "Me? A woman? That's a good one. How could anyone think I'm a woman? " I hawk a loogie into the river and let out a loud belch. "Nope, about as manly as they come.

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