New York's Crown Princess

In the spirit of comedy, I have put theme songs to the chapters. Please see the YouTube link below. The timing may be off due to different reading speeds. My special favorite is Chp 3 and Love is All Around (You can have a town why don't you take it!) /viewplaylist?pE0D4FB8199C61BD6 or visit my profile for the link since it is not printing at times.

Chapter 1 – MemoriesSong theme – New York, New York – Frank Sinatra

March 26th

With a sense of overwhelming loss, Amber awoke hearing unfamiliar traffic noises nearby. Instinctively, she reached across her bed to an unknown lover but instead found no one. Immediately, she checked her finger for a wedding band and her neck for a necklace, both not there. Unfortunately, she couldn't remember if she should be wearing such jewelry. As she looked at the unfamiliar surroundings, her sense of loss and confusion became greater.

Love overtook sorrow when she closed her eyes and felt two small children hugging her. She felt their arms around her neck, the warmth of their kisses and the softness of their skin against her cheeks while their sandalwood scent surrounded her; sheer adoration. When she tried to hug her babies she found her arms empty. "Where are my children?" Frantically but futilely, she looked through the one bedroom apartment that seemed foreign to her. "Where are my children?" She darted out of the apartment and pounded on her neighbor's door.

A young yuppie couple answered, "Can we help you?"

"Have you seen my children!" she yelled. "Someone kidnapped them!"

"We haven't seen any children but we'll help you look," they said in an American accent. "What are their names? What do they look like?"

With a horrible realization, she sunk to the floor sobbing. "I don't know."

The couple, not wanting to deal with their lunatic neighbor, then brought her back to her apartment and set her on her couch where she sobbed for hours out of fear for her unknown missing children. Silently, she prayed for their safety.

Once she regained her composure she checked her surroundings trying to remember anything because she remembered nothing before today. She couldn't remember her own children's names or faces or if she truly had any. She only felt it. However, from her past, she remembered that she had a happy childhood and subsequent years in London but she couldn't remember any details. Everything in this world seemed left of center and she didn't belong here. Somehow, she knew her name, Amber Mosley. Within her purse, she found an ID, credit card, checkbook and various other items; all bore the name Amber Mosley.

As she checked her one bedroom flat, the living room had a fairly new rust colored leather couch with matching inn table and a modest television but not a single DVD for the DVD player. Nor did she find CD's for the CD player. Within her kitchen, she found her pantry and cupboards stocked with healthy food she knew she liked and a decent selection of unused cookware, mostly everything in blue. In her rose and white lacey bedroom, she found her closet and dresser all contained typical clothes, from casual to formal, but all new. But through it all, she could not find one photo or anything reflecting her past at all. The sterility of the dwelling only served to make her more uneasy.

After she tried to shower away the worries which plagued her, she took a good look at herself in the mirror. Long curly honey blond hair cascaded midway down her back over a toned, petite porcelain figure. Though her ID revealed her age to be twenty – four, her visage looked several years younger leading her to believe she took good care of herself. Though she would modestly call her face beautiful, she considered herself slightly unusual with a button nose and large almond eyes forming a more pixie appearance. No stretch marks marred her abdomen though she felt she had children.

As she ate her dinner, she remembered living in London all her life and for an unknown reason moved. Though she tried and tried she all her memories were gone. Moreover, her paranoia told her she couldn't tell anyone or they would think she was mad just like her neighbors did. That night after only a few hours of sleep, she awoke to find her dresser drawers opened but nothing missing or had her window or doors showed any forced entry.

March 27th

That next morning she hurriedly dressed, wanting to vacate her haunted apartment. As she walked around her unfamiliar neighborhood, she discovered that she lived in New York's Greenwich Village. She also discovered that she had over ten thousand dollars in her bank account and that her rent had been paid up for six more months. Instinctively, she knew to hide her secret out of fear of being locked away as a lunatic.

March 28th & 29th

Within a couple of days, she developed a routine. In the lucidity between sleep and awake, she felt the strong arms of her lover encircling her waist, his lips kissing her neck while her sandalwood scented children crawled into her arms. Sadly, she awoke missing them while wondering if they even existed. Then nervously, she straightened up everything that moved during the night. Though she worried about her ghost, her amnesia scared her more. Sometimes she stayed up at night curious to see her ghost but nothing ever moved during her waking hours.

Almost instinctively, she started jogging daily and doing Pilates. She followed her exercise by a walk, looking for anything familiar. As she perused her neighborhood, nothing called to her. Frequently she glanced around to find the eyes that burrowed into her back watching each move she made. Each time she found no one.

March 30th through April 4th

Most of the time, she only felt grief as if everyone she had ever known suddenly died. Trying to push past that loss, each day she curiously wondered about her career path. Since she gravitated towards bookstores and libraries, she figured in her life before maybe she worked as a librarian.

With the police, she checked to see if anyone reported her missing but to no avail. Furthermore on that front, she checked the newspapers in the personals to see if anything jumped at her but nothing did. Eventually her search branched into the rest of the city but still nothing seemed familiar. No matter where she went, those eyes followed. Even within her own apartment, she felt watched but when she checked for electronic bugs, she found none.

April 5th through April 12th

Eventually, she decided on a course of action to confront her amnesia. With St. Vincent's Hospital nearby, she decided to research her case by pretending to be an author researching amnesia for a book. When she asked if the doctors wouldn't mind being cited in a book, she found all of them to be most helpful. Ironically, she found herself adept at writing.

During the course of it all, plenty of men found her attractive between her looks and accent to the point that she grew completely fed up with it, more so outside the Village. The one exception she made was for her neighbor David Mackleby, a slightly older, blond haired, clinical psychologist who decidedly she wanted to keep only as a friend. Desperately, she wanted to just have one friend.

For the course of her isolation, a few hours each night became her only solace. Her dream lover never asked but simply took her; sometimes gently caressing, sometimes wholly submissive, sometimes extremely adventurous, sometimes wildly animalistic, and sometimes ruthlessly dominating but always marvelously gratifying. Though she couldn't see his face, she knew his touch.

"Maybe I don't want you," she whispered one night when she felt his need to dominate her.

Without any hesitation, he subdued her and asserted his victory. "You do," he stated matter-of-factly. "Now and forevermore, you will only belong to me."

"Please tell me your name."

He whispered against her neck, "Dragon."

Then she woke up impassioned but he wouldn't return for the rest of the night. Despite the rapturous nights, nothing could make up for the heartbreak of the morning when she felt her two children being ripped from her arms.

April 13th

About three weeks into her amnesia, her luck changed. One day during breakfast, at her favorite nearby deli, a good-looking, fellow Brit around her age, with glasses, sympathetic eyes and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead joined her. Momentarily, she felt at ease. However, her paranoia wouldn't let that feeling last long.

"Hello, I'm Harry Pot…smith," he said extending his hand which she refused.

"Amber Mosley. Thank you for the compliment." She sighed, not wanting to deal with another guy making a pass at her. For some reason, this morning it had already happened twice. Maybe it was the new bath salts? "However, I'm not interested."

"Believe me neither am I," he professed.

"Oh sorry," she commented slightly embarrassed. Now she had an inkling why he had chosen Greenwich Village.

"I just thought that we might be London compatriots." He startled her when they both reached for the napkin dispenser. "I overheard your accent and thought maybe you could suggest some tourist sites or something. My partner and I are friendless tourists I'm afraid." The partner comment confirmed it for her. She felt sorry for him but she wasn't prejudiced and wanted him to feel comfortable about his sexuality. "Being in a new place can be a bit scary sometimes. We both feel a little out of place and apprehensive." Now she really felt for him for she understood living in constant fear.

"I understand completely," she commented slightly embarrassed. "I feel so comfortable talking to you now but I guess you get that from women all the time." Harry seemed to ponder that statement as she continued. "I'm afraid I won't be any help since I'm very new here as well." She felt a little guilty about it. "How long are you and your partner staying?"

"Two weeks or so," he answered.

"Are you on your honeymoon?" She noticed his wedding ring. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm not prejudiced at all. I really do apologize for thinking you were making a pass at me. I'm just tired of it happening and I don't want to deal with that at all."

"You're very perceptive. Would you like to have lunch with me and my partner," he asked.

"I have an appointment at lunchtime, maybe dinner?" She remembered her interview with another one of the doctors at the hospital.

With a disappointed frown, he asked, "Can we meet you on the corner here around 6 PM?"

She followed his gaze to a tall blond stylishly dressed man who made his way towards the deli. "Is that your partner, the one wearing that outlandish pink bracelet? He's gorgeous," she remarked now that she had a better view.

"Yeah, that's my princess. As you can see from the bracelet, I'm the butch and he's the bitch," he chuckled. "Nice meeting you. See you tonight," he said to her as he started to leave. "I've got to get back to the hotel. I've got to…uh"

"No need to explain," she laughed seeming slightly more at ease. "You're on your honeymoon."

From the way he grabbed his partner's arm and dragged him away, he couldn't wait to get him back to his hotel room. She couldn't blame him for anxiously wanting to shag the blond god.