LC-Intro

He looked around at the squalor he was being forced to deal with since his “reassignment”. Ha! Reassignment. That was a good way of putting what had happened to him. Who would have thought that those women would turn on him like that?

Who would have thought that the women who he had loved with … well … maybe not all of his heart, but definitely all of his body would turn around and stab him in the back.

Didn’t they understand that he was Don Lothario?

Didn’t they understand that he had a heritage to uphold, that there were generations upon generation of Lotharios that were counting on him to do what Lotharios had done since time immemorial? The first, and greatest, Lothario being Casanova Lothario followed by the second greatest – Don Juan Lothario.

Didn’t they understand that there was too much of him to focus on only one? He was not The Highlander. He didn’t want there to be only one! He wanted them all! Big ones, small ones, old ones, young ones (well, within legal limits anyway). He wanted them all. Like Pokemon. Yeah: “Gotta Catch ‘Em All!”

Who would have thought that they’d get so angry … angry enough to stuff him into some sort of experimental transporter device developed in Strangetown (of all places) and hit the flashing green button?! Geez! He opened his eyes, and found himself here. Where’s here?

Here … was a red barn. Can you believe that? Don Lothario had been relegated to living in a barn.

A barn that was sitting next to a silo. So … well, okay … perhaps it wasn’t a barn, but more like a farmhouse. Don Lothario was no farmer – unless you counted women farming, woohoo farming, kiss farming. Heh.

It even had a water trough and a fishing pond. He briefly had a desire to see Ellie Mae, but then snorted at himself for being ridiculous. Even more ridiculous … his farmhouse was sitting on the outskirts of a town called Riverview. He hadn’t really had an opportunity to really check things out yet, but he had a suspicion that the device he’d been crammed into like a sardine was some sort of time machine. But that was jumping ahead of things.

When he’d shaken off the feeling of vertigo and confusion after the green lightning had faded from around him, and assured himself that he wasn’t going to get arrested for breaking and entering, he’d entered the farmhouse and looked around. He couldn’t erase the look from his face when he saw the room he stepped into first.

The kitchen wasn’t any better. He shuddered at the darkness, not to mention how small it was. There was even a desk on the wall across from the refrigerator. Who in their right (or wrong) mind put a desk in the kitchen? Of course, if it was a desk meant to house recipes, that was something else, but Don wasn’t aspiring to be a chef.

The bedroom was tiny. His relief that there was a queen-sized bed was palpable. But the color scheme was all wrong. How was he supposed to romance anyone in a place such as this?

And there was also a pathetic excuse for an attic on the top floor. He didn’t even want to know why the previous owners had left kids toys up there. Don didn’t even know, or care, who the previous owners were. All he knew was that his name was on the mailbox. Had the device changed something in the time stream? Not much of a brain for such things, Don immediately put it out of his mind. He was no Curious Brother.

Never one to panic over any situation (since it was bad for the skin), Don decided he would take this situation like he took just about everything in his life – In Stride. Finding keys to a broken down jalopy in the desk (in the kitchen), he headed into town to get a lay of the land … and of any ladies who caught his eye.

“Don Lothario is in the house, ladies!”

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