If anything, she was too beautiful and too self-assured. After we moved in together, I would joke that I was 'robbing the cradle' when I took her to bed.

The men she flirted with as she worked her way around the tavern were flattered, flustered, and fearful of her attention. After ten or fifteen minutes of flagrantly flirting Darlene returned to her seat to regroup and refuel. Can I have another one to keep this one company," Darlene touched his hand, and if her smile had been any warmer, the barkeep would have erupted into flame. " Darlene laughed as she raised her index finger and traced a point on the invisible blackboard in the air. She would always laugh and respond, "I guess that would make me a grave robber." A few things attracted me to Darlene. She was so easy going that I once tried to give her the nickname, Lake Placid.

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Her second expedition of seduction ended in bewildered frustration. I usually have to beat men off with a stick," shaking her head in disgust, she demolished another White Russian. Darlene's rent check went south, along with about 25 or 30 personal checks and ATM transactions; each bad check racked up a $35 bank charge, $25-30 in returned check merchant fees, and her account soon was bleeding red ink by several thousand dollars.

"Maybe you should offer to beat them off with a stick, you know, fifty shades of kinky? The certified letter ordering our eviction was the last straw.

We sat across from each other at the kitchen table as, like an unwanted house guest, a shroud of gloom settled over the room. "Damn, can't believe I forgot 'em," she slapped the palm of her hand on the table and let out a laugh. Darlene's exotic view of life trended toward the spiritual rather than the religious. My friends from college are living in an off the grid cabin in the Rockies.

I braced myself for her answer, "What kind of Hippy Village are we talking about? They owe me some money, maybe we can stay with them." "What's their address?

A homeless Vietnam Veteran becomes the accidental prisoner of an all-woman survivalist community hidden deep in the Rocky Mountains.

The Society of Sisters at Liberty Mountain has chosen to live in a world without men.

"I love this drink," she inhaled the beverage, chugging it down in one long gulp. How can anyone love a drink without taking the time to appreciate the subtle by-play of flavors? " she smiled before dispatching the last White Russian. After a few months together, the real-estate development company in which Darlene had invested fifteen years of her life went belly-up, and then her last two paychecks bounced.

Thirst quenched for the moment, Darlene resumed her quest for tonight's bed partner. The rubber checks set up a cascading overdraft chain reaction.

We crisscrossed Denver and the surrounding suburbs chasing every "For Rent" sign we could find. "Well, if you hear anything, please give me a call.