Meet Marmalade

Marmalad Prize Rooster

Tyler stalked thru every last tent, and he literally crawled between them as well. Still no bird. And no one had seen any more roosters running around.

He checked out the main entrance and wished he hadn’t left his jacket in the pickup. A fine drizzle and diminishing light were going to make the next half of his search miserable. For Kolby, he would do this in his bare feet in the snow. She had kissed his face, and her lips had felt like clouds. He stepped out into the weather.

After a fruitless search that took longer than he wanted, and probably not half the time that was needed, Tyler returned empty-handed to the rooster tent.

Kolby sat on the table. Her torso and arms draped over the crate holding the smaller of the two roosters. Her dark hair, in a thick braid, hung limply over her shoulder. She wiped at her nose, still sniffling.

His heart broke to see her so sad. He had watched, from too far away, as she established herself as a Marans breeder. Her birds consistently produced the desired dark brown eggs. Her hens were full and fluffy with dark feathers, and the roosters were picture-book quality. To lose her spokesmodel and top show bird had to feel like a kick in the teeth.

And here he was again, watching her from too far away.

He would give anything to be her hero but he’d failed miserably.

“Kolby?” He didn’t want to startle her, didn’t want to cause her any more grief.

Her puffy red eyes lifted to meet his steady gaze. When she saw he had no bird in his arms, she didn’t smile the way she usually did when she saw him.

He shook his head and opened his empty arms. He was so sorry, so unbelievable sorry. He would give anything to see her smile again, but he was only able to deliver bad news.

Kolby rushed into his arms, holding onto him as fiercely as if he was the only person who could save her.

©2017 Lulu M Sylvian. Three French Cockerels from The Twelve Strippers of Christmas. Available October 2017

Meet Tom

Meet Tom. The Twelve Strippers of Christmas by Lulu M Sylvian

 

How’re you doing?” The man she’d inadvertently ogled had a square jaw lined with a thin beard, nice lips, and a voice like liquid chocolate. He gave Alexa a little upward nod of his head. It was a shapely head with close-cropped, tightly curled hair. He had everything nice, and that was why Alexa figured he had mesmerized her as he carried cases of beer and water from a delivery pallet on the sidewalk into a building.

No, no, I’m good,” she stammered. Oh my God, wrong answer stupid. And he’s wearing a Santa hat.

Red stocking cap with white pom-pom, tight jeans, and a T-shirt with the long sleeves pushed up. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold. Alexa sighed as she watched him pick up another box and disappear into the dark of the building. His jeans displayed his ass to perfection. He even whistled. Could he be any cuter?

You sure you don’t need anything?” he asked again. This time she registered hints of a British accent.

Just enjoying the show,” Alexa gushed.

By all means, enjoy away.” He rolled his shoulders, did an extra flex of bicep, and carried another box into the building.

Alexa’s brain, not firing on all cylinders, took a moment to realize that she had just come across as the vilest, most sexist pig ever. Had she been a man doing that to a woman, she should have been slapped. Instead, he flexed for her.

I just objectified you in a very demeaning manner, and you don’t mind?” she asked him after he jogged down the few steps to the sidewalk.

The man paused. Damn, he was tall. Then he shrugged. “It’s all part of the job. Look, if you want to objectify me without guilt and enjoy a real show, come by tonight. Doors open at eight.” He pointed to the marquee on the building behind him. Manfred’s Manly Male Review.

Oh. Right.” Alexa felt a little awkward, but she smiled. Alliteration always made her happy. Manfred should have used manifestation instead of review…more Ms that way. She had been ogling a stripper in his day wear, and he had just invited her to ogle him some more. “I think I just will.”

©2017 Lulu M Sylvian. Perfect Cup from The Twelve Strippers of Christmas. Available October 2017

 

Meet Seth

Meet Seth, The twelve Strippers of Christmas by Lulu M Sylvian

 

Bethy stared mournfully at the remnants of Christmas tree selections. The live trees were all dead and brown, and of the pre-lit trees, the only choices were too big and expensive or unnatural colors. She was not convinced this was going to be a good idea.

Seth tossed another box of frozen appetizer snacks in the cart. “I don’t know about you, but on Thursday I think snacks and movies all day sounds perfect.” His smile faded when he looked at her.

“Whats wrong, Bethy girl?”

Bethy sighed, the sweet and the bitter all mixed up into one. Seth already had a nickname for her, that made her heart soar. But the lack of tree options felt like a holiday kick in the backside. “No trees.”

“What do you mean no trees? There’s this one over here.” He gestured broadly at the huge example.

“Too big.”

“Okay, then we go avant-garde and get the white one and do all black and silver ornaments.”

Bethy giggled. “That sounds too chic for me.”

“Then we do white with candy colored ornaments. It will be festive.”

“A white tree? Will it work? Maybe no tree is best.” She shook her head skeptically.

“Of course it will work. It will be Whoville meets Willy Wonka. Ridiculous and sweet. C’mon.” Seth spun a pirouette in front of the tree then slid across the floor on his knees to be right in front of Bethy. “I’m begging, can we can we can we? Huh?”

Bethy’s face felt like it was going to crack in half with her smile. An older lady paused and said, “When a boy that good looking is on his knees in front of you, you had better say yes.”

Bethy started laughing. “Okay, okay, we can get the white tree.”

©2017 Lulu M Sylvian. Partridge in Her Pear Tree from The Twelve Strippers of Christmas. Available October 2017

Teaser Tuesday-The Twelve Strippers of Christmas

Whoo hoo, Christmas in July! Well, not really. But I am listening to a lot of Christmas music as I finalize this collection of short stories.

Here’s an excerpt from Les Poules Françaises

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“Dancing Queen.” Nick purred as Katie approach the front of the club. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

She placed a hand over his kiss and blushed slightly. It was cute.

He glanced behind her checking to confirm she had not been followed by the grabby Gwinney.

“Just you?” He asked.

“I told you it would just be me. Disappointed?” Her smile lit up her face. Her eyes looked bigger and brighter with sparkling gold make-up. He wanted to poke his fingers through the loops in her hair style.

“Thrilled it’s just you. That Gwinney is like some excitable puppy who doesn’t understand the commands sit, stay, leave me the f*k alone.” Nick paid for their entrance into the club.

“She thinks you’re hot.” Katie explained as she followed Nick further inside.

“Of course she does. I am hot, and I work damn hard to make sure people know it.” Nick stroked his hand in the air down the front of his body, displaying the artistry that went into tonight’s outfit.

His hair had been shaved on the sides and piled high in the middle. Braids with beads and peacock feathers lined the side of his mohawk and draped down his back with the longer lengths of blue and black hair. His make-up was all in shades of black and silver. He wore a cropped leather biker jacket with a tight peacock print t-shirt. Everything else was black leather and silver studs.

“Modest much?” Katie laughed. She shoved her gloves into her coat pocket and passed it to the coat check girl.

“Oh, you should talk, Miss Victory Curls and swishy skirt. I don’t see you here in scrubs and nursing shoes. Why should women have all the fun in dressing up and looking good?”

“Point taken.” Katie agreed. “But it lures in hapless victims like Gwinney. And it confuses her. She sees the pretty, she wants the pretty, she doesn’t understand why the pretty doesn’t want her back.”

“Are you calling me pretty?” Nick looked down his nose at her.

Katie shook her head and bit her lower lip. He needed to get her on the dance floor before he pushed her against the back wall and messed up the makeup they both wore.

 

 

Teaser Tuesday: All I Want

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Jason led Amy out of the restaurant. He dropped her hand and then he spun on the ball of his foot, completing several full turns. He stopped with a jump, planting his feet. “Whoo!”

“I guess you enjoyed your supper?” Amy ran after him as he danced down the street.

Jason leaped onto a planter before jumping and landing with another spin.

“If you were singing, I would think I’d been transported into a musical,” she said, looking up to Jason as he spun around a lamp pole.

He smiled down at her.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re dancing up the street like a mad man.” She laughed.

Jason twirled and executed an undulating body wave before coming to a stop in front of Amy.

The breath caught in her throat as he merged their personal spaces. “You are music that makes me feel like dancing,” he confessed in a low whisper.

Amy expected her face to burst into flames with the heat of her flush, but instead it suddenly was cold and wet. She lifted her face to the sky to watch the sudden downpour overtake them.

She laughed. “It is like a musical, and now it’s raining.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” Jason asked.

Amy shook her head.

“It means the hero gets to kiss the girl now.”

 

©2017 Lulu M Sylvian

Teaser Tuesday: Driven

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“Julia, darling, you fell back asleep.”

Julia groaned, “You let me? Why didn’t you wake me?’

“I feel asleep too Lambkins. I woke you when I came back around.”

Julia turned in Roman’s arms. Her face brushed against his. She rubbed her cheek against his, purring.

“This is nice, but did you really just call me lambkins?”

“I did.” Roman smiled as her hair tickled his face. “You like it when I recite Shakespeare, remember.”

“Oh, I remember.” Julia’s lips gently brushed Roman’s nose, before softly pressing against his lips.

 

Driven, Legantum book 2

©2016-2017 Lulu M Sylvian

Playing with names

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The naming of cats is a serious matter.

Cats are tough, characters are tricky. You have to encompass all that is that person into a few collection of letters.

Think about it. How does your name define you? You have had your entire life to create that definition for your collection of letters.

Typically my characters come with names. I am currently working on a collection of Holiday short stories for release in the fall. Sometimes the characters tell me their names, sometimes their names are a struggle.

In Bang a Drummer I knew the male was Lance. A friend laughed at me and told me that was appropriately phallic. I had NEVER made that connection before. I was having issues with the female lead, she wasn’t very forthcoming with her identity.

Since I am playing with some twists based on Shakespeare’s play Twelfth Night, same friend (who laughed about Lance) helped me with some derivatives on names. She was smart and informed me that Viola is a variation of Violet, and this led to the name Lettie. Something I had not thought of: she Googled variations of the name. My idea of twisting names is to take the character I’m using as inspiration and mash it up with something I know. Example: Sebastian, so I, of course, think of Sebastian Stan, and thus the character is now named Bucky.

In Calling Bird, my main male character is a rocker turned stripper. He’s a “classic” rocker boy, ripped-off sleeves, leather, studs, long hair. And, because I appreciate the glam of hair bands, he wears a little guy-liner. I wanted a name that ended in the ee sound: Nikki, Johny, Robbie, Ronnie, Tony, Billy. Came up with a brilliant name, started writing with it, my character liked it, settled into it like a comfortable denim jacket. Then the name started to rub funny, it got uncomfortable and itchy. Turns out it was the name of a medical specialist we saw when my kid was an infant. Scratch that one off the list. Ended up with Lonnie Rose. He had at least three names before settling on that one. The heroine, she was easy peasy. Waltzed right in, her name is Ava, she’s a nurse. It was like she just handed me her credentials, I knew all I needed to know immediately.

These are the couple names I have so far for ...currently untitled collection of stripper shorts around a holiday theme…(titles thats a whole ‘nother ball of sticky wax when it comes to names)

  • Lettie and Lance
  • Ava and Lonnie
  • Clary and Josh
  • Rose and Jimmy
  • Glori and Blaze
  • Iona and Derrick
  • Bethy and Seth
  • Amy and Jason
  • Kris and Tom

Looking for names? Check out these name sites:

http://www.babynames.net/

http://www.behindthename.com/names/usage/medieval

http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/

http://www.babynamesofireland.com/

Personality Tests

3-question tibetan personality test
https://brightside.me/inspiration-psychology/this-three-question-tibetan-test-can-reveal-a-lot-about-who-you-really-are-216505/

 

I had Morgan, the hero of Protective, take this simple personality test.

He found it to be not too far off, until he reached the colors section.

His answers were for part one:

  • horse
  • tiger
  • cow
  • sheep
  • pig

He was a little surprised that career came in before love, but he was not surprised that family came first.

His answers for part two:

  • friend
  • furry
  • a rat
  • life
  • soothing

He does not equate Honey with being a cat at all. But yes coffee is life, and sex is life. He was good with that answer.

Part three he thought was full of shit. While he does love his sister Julia, he associates her with the color red, because she wears it a lot, not because she is the one person he loves with all his heart. He said that would be Honey.

Teaser Tuesday Protective

Protective-paranormal Romance by Lulu M Sylvian lmsylvian.com

 

We haven’t officially met, have we, Honey?” Morgan’s voice, smooth and deep, felt almost like a caress. That made Honey a bit nervous. Obviously, he was not her type. Honey preferred prettier men with more refined features. Morgan wasn’t pretty. He had a strong square jaw with a cleft dimple in his chin that she could just make out under the bad shave job. With a distinct broad brow and wide cheekbones, he wasn’t bad looking, just not pretty. Rugged, Honey thought. He was more rugged than pretty. She didn’t know if she wanted that kind of attention from him. It also made her nervous because she felt like closing her eyes and leaning into the sound of his voice. After Bryce, she had no intention of falling for another guy anytime soon, regardless of how he made her feel.

No, we haven’t. I’m Honey Gould.” She stuck out her hand and braced herself for commentary on her name. She felt certain Morgan would have some asinine thing to say. Most people did. She certainly didn’t expect him capable of a witty pun. Inwardly, she flinched. She knew she was judging his intellect by his clothing and shave, and not for the first time. She had to stop that.

Morgan engulfed her hand in his large and warm one. Honey noticed the long tapered fingers were rough from use, but the skin on the back of his hand was smooth and his nails were clean and decently manicured. Those small personal grooming habits were the type of detail Honey always focused on. “Morgan Palatine.”

Morgan…” Finney grabbed the taller man by the elbow, “…I have some friends you have to meet.” As Finney steered Morgan back into the throng, Honey grinned. It was obvious Finney had a bit of a crush on him.As she watched the two men thread their way through the crowd, she realized Morgan hadn’t said anything about her name. Honey couldn’t remember the last time some guy who had been ogling her hadn’t. They all seemed to think they were original, and she would find it hysterical. She had heard them all, from being asked if she was sticky or was easy to spread, to being called Golden Grahams after the cereal. Morgan not commenting on her name was a notable relief.

 

©2016 Lulu M Sylvian Protective, book one Rhea Silvia Legacy