This week’s word is dance and I’ve now finished the Valentine’s Day story I’ve been working on but thought I’d share one more week’s words on it with the TT gang. I wish we’d had this word in the early part of me working on this story since a lot of it takes place at a dance itself. BUT, clever cuss that I am, I was able to work the word in later in the story as the hero and heroine take a swim at the local ski resort’s indoor pool. BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THE OTHERS HERE.
Mattie patted the space next to her and almost before she knew it, Kevin was out of the water and seated next to her.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I took some time to think about things myself last night and realized that even though I have a nice career in the city and a lovely condo to live in, I’m not really living. I’m existing but it’s not really what you’d call a life.”
“So what exactly are you saying?” Kevin took her hand and entwined his fingers in hers.
“I could dance all around it but I won’t be coy. I’m saying I’m ready to stay here for a while—”she held her hand up—“let me finish.”
He smiled but stayed quiet, urging her on with a look in his eyes she recognized as hope.
“I’m not going to rush right out and put my condo on the market, you understand but I’m going to explore the possibilities with my boss about working from here since most of my work is done on the computer. If—and I mean that as a definite if—this works out, then I’ll consider selling my place and making it permanent.”
Excerpt from Incandescent, by M.V. Freeman
She could stay in this room and wait—for what? She wasn’t waiting to find out. She let the curtain fall, moved to the door, and opened it. That she wasn’t in a cell, chained up, or locked in proved she had an opportunity, and she was going to take it. If she couldn’t find her way out of this creepy compound, then at least she needed to find a phone. She’d watched enough episodes of I Survived to know that staying put was the worst thing to do. The police needed to be called. She wasn’t anyone’s captive.
With a sense of determination, Laurie followed the same path she took earlier. This time the house was silent, and she didn’t allow herself time to pause. As she descended the darkened stairs, she spared a thought about her earlier collapse. Maybe someday she would figure out what had happened, but she wasn’t going to hang around here just to get answers.
Below her, the foyer was in shadows. The only light was through the large palladium window over the front door. It struck the elaborate crystal chandelier and sent erratic dots of light into the murk.
As her foot touched the bottom step, a door in the foyer slid open, and a thin sliver of light stretched across the floor like an accusing finger pointing in her direction. Laurie dropped into a crouch and pressed close into the shadow of the rail. She almost forgot to breathe as she spied a silhouette framed in the doorway.
Go away, Laurie chanted in her mind, biting her lips. As if hearing her, the door shut.
Laurie exhaled and moved. Another tidbit she learned from I Survived: keep going. Don’t stay—or was that the opposite? Too late now. She’d thought about using the front door, but it occurred to her that, although the guards weren’t in the foyer any longer, they still might be on the other side of the door. There had to be another door or possibly a window she could slip through.
Laurie wasn’t normally afraid of the dark, but now it gave her a creepy feeling, as if the darkness had eyes. She’d be glad to get the hell out of this place. She moved cautiously toward the back of the house, passed a dimly lit open doorway, and realized it was the laundry room. A familiar flash of green inside the room stopped her.
There atop other ruined items in a trashcan by the sink were the frayed remains of her purse.
Oh God, please let my phone be in there.
Laurie eagerly picked up the purse, her hands shaking as she felt the melted fabric for a way back into the bag. She finally gave up and tore into the weakened material, stunned to find her wallet miraculously intact.
She shoved it into her pocket and continued digging. After pushing aside a couple of unrecognizable melted lumps, she pulled out her Blackberry with a barely suppressed whoop of triumph.
“Please, please work,” she whispered as she turned it over in her hands. The face plate was warped and cracked—not a good sign. She pushed the green button. When was the last time she’d charged it?
To her knee-weakening relief, the number keys glowed. Laurie punched in 9-1-1 and waited with her heart in her mouth to hear it ring. It rang.
And then her phone went dead.
Author: M.V. Freeman
Title: Incandescent (Hidden Races series, book one)
Genre: Supernatural Romance
Release Date: December 9th, 2014
Available in eBook and Paperback
Author Website: http://www.mvfreeman.com/
M.V. Freeman lives in North Alabama. A nurse by day, at night she enjoys creating and exploring alternate worlds within our own. She gravitates toward stories of determined heroines and anti-heroes who push the boundaries as they both fight to find their light in the dark.
M.V. is represented by Victoria Lea from The Aponte Literary Agency. Her award-winning and best-selling debut novel INCANDESCENT is the first in the Hidden Races Series. Currently she is working on the third book in the series, while plotting others. When not writing, she can be found reading, cooking, throwing around kettle bells, or making coffee. You can find out more about her here at: www.mvfreeman.com
Today’s tale is a picture prompt. We are limited to 300 words on these. I am still working on the Valentine’s Day story so I’m using this for that tale. Be sure to check out the other tales here. Mattie is meeting Kevin at the local ski resort’s swimming pool but it’s the middle of February so she’s having a hard time finding a suit to swim in at the home she lived in as a teen.
Sighing and momentarily regretting her agreement to meet Kevin—and at the pool of all things—Mattie eventually threw the covers off and stepped out of bed.
She walked over to the window, pushed the blinds aside and shivered at the sight that greeted her. Not only had none of the snow melted, more was falling. She looked out across the fields behind her dad’s house to the nearest neighbor’s house and barn. The landscape did appear lovely with the snow piled on the wooden fences and roofs but thinking about putting on a swimsuit rather than yoga pants and a sweatshirt made her shudder.
There was nothing to do but put it on anyway. Mattie always kept her word. Plundering through her drawers, she panicked a little because she hadn’t packed swimwear for this visit and feared what she might find in the dresser. The first suit she found was a purple polka-dotted super small bikini. Horrified, Mattie held up the bottoms. Whoa. When had she ever been that tiny? Or that unselfconscious? Nope. Uh-uh. She was not going to put that on. She shoved it to the back of her drawer and kept digging.
Finally locating a black one-piece that might not qualify as porn-wear, Mattie swung it over her head as she dashed into her bathroom to see if it still fit. Once she’d brushed her teeth, she put it on and inspected to be sure her bottom wasn’t too exposed. True, the thing would probably ride up as she swam but at least she’d be under the water. Tossing on the yoga pants and sweatshirt, Mattie slid her feet into a pair of sneakers and headed down the stairs.
Last year, Secret Cravings Publishing released my story called All I Want For Christmas is a One Night Stand. I love that quirky little story and since tis the season again, I went over to Amazon to get the link to promote it again. I found this treasure of a review that made me happy all over and wanted to share it. BUY LINK
“Jillian Chantal’s story, All I Want For Christmas, may be short, but it’s packed with pace, pathos, passion, plus a quirky sense of humour. And, of course, some seriously hot characters.
In the first sentence Ms. Chantal reveals her heroine, Anna’s take on Christmas. She hates it, and expects to go on hating it for ever more. But strange things happen in the run-up to the holiday. And Anna, completely out of character, makes a comment in response to a half-hearted dare that shocks her and has her two best friends taking her up on it.
And in the next chapter we meet the author’s hero, Matteo Sanchez. Who knew that lawyers could look so good? And Ms. Chantal’s hero is quick witted, he needs to be as a prosecutor, under pressure from his Mama to bring a girl home for Christmas. Sitting at the table next to Anna and her friends he hears her throw-away comment, hopes she acts on it, and when she doesn’t, decides not to miss the opportunity.
Ms. Chantal create vibrant settings, believable backchat and ribbing between the friends, and had this reader enjoying the escalation of passion between Anna and Matteo. It is fast, furious, and creates a fabulous twist near the end of the story that had this reader laughing in amusement and appreciation.
This reader has had the pleasure of following Ms. Chantal’s writing and enjoys the smooth fluency of it, the way she creates a scene and just when you wonder what she’s up to, she takes you down a totally unexpected and fun path.
Her characters are totally believable, and in a short story it is not easy to present fully formed and deep characters, but Ms. Chantal’s characters are a delight. Her secondary players annoy and tease in equal measure and fulfil their role in moving the story forward with expertise.
Yes, unquestionable, this is a Christmas story, but don’t let that put you off reading it at any time of the year.
At 49 pages this sensual romance is a one-sitting read that will keep you turning the pages until you discover just how Anna and Matteo clear a path through all their problems, and the hoops Ms. Chantal put them through.”
In the beginning of the first world war, there was a British Expeditionary force led by Sir John French. They were sent to France and Belgium and the Expeditionary Force only refers to the members of the regular British army who were in that area prior to the first battle of Ypres in November, 1914. They helped stop the German advance in France but at a great loss of life (at about 1/2 the troops). This was also the area where that famous cease fire at Christmas happened.
Emperor Wilhelm of Germany was not a big fan of the British Expeditionary force since it was actually pretty small for a regular army. The story is that he directed his army to “exterminate the treacherous British and walk over French’s contemptible little army.”
The survivors of this force defiantly adopted this as their name. There’s a tribute to them on one of the walls at Westminster Abbey. There’s also a pub or two with the name. There was a 100 year anniversary exhibition this year in Flanders, Belgium. See here for more info. Here’s a link to an article on the last survivor (died in 2006)- very interesting. And Martha Grimes, one of my favorite authors wrote one of her Inspector Jury books set in a pub named The Old Contemptibles.
I have a special guest today- she’s been here before and I’m sure you all remember her. She’s a fellow SCP author as well as a Tuesday Tales friend. Welcome Vicki Locey. She has a new story out and I am sharing the PG excerpt but there’s an R-rated one you can check out by using the links below. Very cute cover, too.
Without further ado, take it away, Vicki
Roxanne Jones has one day off this weekend. She does not want to spend it carrying her unmentionables to the nearby Laundromat but Fate has different plans. When the washing machine in her apartment building dies mid-cycle, Roxanne has no choice but to finish her laundry across the street. Once inside the Tumble Dry launderette, she discovers that the dryers aren`t the only hot things to watch. In walks a younger man wearing the only clean items left in his wardrobe: torn jeans, sandals, tattoos, sex appeal, and a few well-placed piercings. When the two lock gazes no amount of fabric softener can stop the sparks from flying. It doesn`t take long for Donovan King, an English major at the local college, to not only woo Roxanne, he manages to begin to a steamy seduction that won`t end until both are well-tumbled.
“So do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have a couple of spare quarters? Since you won’t let my man things gyrate around in the water with your woman things.”
Was he saying those kinds of things on purpose? Of course he was, if the puckish grin he now wore was any indicator. Oh, I did like this man. A lot.
“Honey, I’m not sure that your man things are man enough to gyrate with my woman things,” I parried. He chortled then leaned a hip into the washer, his arms folding over his bare chest.
“I’m pretty sure that they are.” He said it with utmost confidence in the prowess of his man things. I sucked down a large gulp, the twinge behind my eye reminding me to slow down. I sipped and enjoyed looking at him, spying a small, silver navel ring glistening from the neon lights overhead. My mouth was dry even though I had just swallowed some of my drink. His steady gaze made me fidget.
“Rather sure of your man things, aren’t you?” I finally said, as I tossed my change purse to him. He caught it with one hand, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Rather,” he commented offhandedly, opened the tiny bag then extracted four quarters. My tongue toyed with the end of my straw. He laid the purse on the top of the machine next to his then arranged the coins in the slots, all four standing erect. Mmm, what a nice word that is. Erect. Makes all sorts of dirty, sweaty images appear inside a woman’s mind, doesn’t it?
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and two steers: one named after a famous N.H.L. goalie while the other carries the moniker of a 60`s pop legend.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.
I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-
Secret Cravings Backlist Books:
Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
O Captain! My Captain!(Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3″ He’s a Lumberjack and He`s Undead
Love of the Hunter
All I Want for Christmas
Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)
Night of the Jackal
And coming in 2015 exclusively from Torquere Press . . . An Erie Operetta and Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale.
This week’s word is raid. This one was fun since there are so many ways to use the word raid such as panty raid (as in the old days at camp) or roach spray (to use a brand name) or even as in the law enforcement sense (raid a speakeasy, so to speak) but I used it in a way that tempts me on occasion. Keep reading to see how. LOL
Be sure to check out the other stories here.
Mattie strolled around the room checking out even the people on the dance floor in case her dad was out there. How hard should it be to find one man in a wheelchair? She didn’t see him but made her way to the refreshment area and got some of that hot chocolate she’d been craving. Wishing she could soak in it and get warm, Mattie settled for sipping the steamy beverage instead.
While blowing on it for a moment to cool it off, she spied the heart-shaped sugar cookies with red icing. Wanting nothing more than to raid the stash, Mattie chose instead to head to the vegetable tray. Eating too many cookies lately was wreaking havoc with the fit of her clothes.
Crunching on a bit of celery, Mattie’s eyes kept scanning the area for her father. Finally, blessedly, she saw him across the room talking to the one of the elderly twins who ran the local Laundromat. It was hard for her to remember which was which. They were both tiny little ladies who had their hair colored with a pale blue wash. For as long as she’d known them, they’d been widowed and inseparable.
Grabbing another strip of the celery and setting down her cup, Mattie headed toward her dad and the twin. She was going to find out when he knew about Kevin’s canceled wedding and why he didn’t tell her. She was even more curious why her father hadn’t said anything since she’d been home and even when they had the conversation earlier.
Before she could reach him, her brother arrived at her side and took hold of her elbow. “I see you have murder in your eyes as you glare at Dad. Or are you mad at Miss Addie?”