As he collected the last jar, a spider web near him suddenly bowed as ifa baseball had hit it. The sticky net ripped from its anchors, and hestared do...n at the figure that struggled cursing with it.It looked like a woman. All of about four inches tall.He bent down, pulling the empty jar he always carried, unscrewing thelid. Before she could work herself free, he snapped the jar down overher, sliding the lid on to screw tight."Hey!" The voice was high, squeaky. He lifted the jar, looking at. ” She flipped the switch in the opposite direction and said smartly, “Perfect for the gardener or the environmentalist.”Stacy was neither a gardener nor an environmentalist, she was a free-lance writer who worked from home and wrote everything from advertising copy to romance novels. She even did some ghost writing for an x-rated publishing house. She was not one of those women who loved to get her hands in the dirt and make things grow, but she did love visiting nude beaches and lying in. More

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