Category: WIP-it Wednesday

WIP-it -Wed Witches of Wet Waterfalls

“A haunted shack, that’s really a magic portal to the magic realm where some warlock has the answers,” I poked at the dirt with the shovel some more. I hadn’t put it back, even though I really didn’t need to use it.

“I don’t know about shack, but by magical portal, you mean shimmering lights and a floating disco globe in the middle of the meadow?” Yuki sounded a little off.

I looked up at her, and a reflection from something bounced across her face. Her arm was outstretched as she pointed to the middle of the meadow.

My gaze followed the direction of her point. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Well, I’d say that might be a magical portal,” Roosevelt said. He crossed his arms and nodded. “Yep, definitely magic.”

Approximately two yards off the ground, where Gage had been standing, a flashing, throbbing, glowing blob appeared. Sparks like diamonds flashed and pastel-colored clouds roiled. It emanated drops of rainbowed lights on the ground around it and reflected light in small patches everywhere. It looked like a sparkling discotheque nebula in the air. Definitely a party, more than a storm.

“What is that?” Gage asked.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

Behind me, Rosie whimpered. Yuki murmured soft soothing sounds to her.

The magic was between us and the wolves. Max stood his ground and growled at it. Oz seemed to not be bothered by it at all as he rolled around in a patch of wildflowers snapping at bugs.

Gage took a step forward.

“Don’t get near it,” I said. I stood up and I stepped past Gage.

“What part about not getting near that thing, are you doing right now?” Roosevelt asked as I continued to walk toward the thing.

“The part where I’m a witch, and you’re not.” My confidence grew as I got closer. The energy it cast out felt familiar.

“It’s the same energy source I use,” I called back.

As I got closer I could hear it crackle and fizz. I realized the birds and insects had stopped making noise at some point earlier. Maybe they knew this was coming? It didn’t move from where it hung in space.

I didn’t get any closer before I started to circle around. I sent out feelers to detect if this was being generated from any direction.

“Hey,” I said as I reached Max. “It’s worrisome isn’t it?” I asked the growling wolf. He was ready for a fight. But he couldn’t fight energy, and that’s all it was in front of us.

“I don’t think it’s anything you need to worry about. I mean look at Oz, he couldn’t care less.”

I walked over to my boyfriend, the wolf, completely ignoring the situation. He was snapping at bees, and other flying bugs. I could hear birds again, but only over by the rocks. I looked back to the situation, and it was gone. Everyone was focused on something in the middle of the field, but I couldn’t see what they were looking at, at all.

I crossed the space back to Max, and suddenly there it was. And no bird song.

I contemplated calling out to Oz. He would want to see this, and he’d be pissed if I just let him be oblivious to the situation.

As I opened my mouth to say something, a blur of gray fur rushed passed me. Max snapped at his legs but missed.

Oz ran forward and leaped. He sailed right into the middle of the disco storm of magic.

WIP-it Wednesday Witches of Wet Waterfalls

That’s a whole lot of Ws!

Halloween Witch holding magical light in her hand

 

Witches of Wet Waterfalls is currently in the works!

My next day was set on edge when Oz took off at some point in the wee hours. That wasn’t unusual for him. He lived a rich and mysterious life as a wolf twenty-five days a month. At least I hoped he did.

He was a mountain man through and through. He loved to camp, and go hiking, and fishing. And he had loved showing off while doing all of those things every time he took me out camping. Which, scheduling issues aside, was frequently. So I hoped that in wolf form he was outthere enjoying the things he loved. I didn’t like to think that he was sad and alone waiting for me to call him a good boy and play fetch. I never called him a good boy.

Yuki would. When the guys wolfed out, she treated them like giant puppies. And they responded in kind. But around me, Oz didn’t act like a typical canine. He responded logically as if he had a human brain in a wolf’s body. Hanging out at the salon would never be that man’s idea of a good time. And he hung out there a lot.

With our current situation with Dylan, I was concerned, nervous. Oz not being around weighed me down. A decided lack of attention from Dylan all day tugged me down.

But the weight that sank me was Yuki.

There was no doorbell at the salon. It wouldn’t matter if there was, we played the music too loud to hear some little tinkling noise. I caught the movement of the door in my peripheral vision.

Yuki slogged in and slumped in the first chair. Her eyes looked bigger than usual, and there was a tremble to her lower lip. I set aside the broom I pushed around, getting the bigger clumps of hair up before mopping.

“Hey sweetie, is everything okay?” I couldn’t imagine what would have set her off. I hadn’t seen her this sad in a very long time.

She nodded. “Can we go home?” She wiped at her nose as if she had the sniffles.

A depressed Yuki makes the sun want to hide behind clouds. She was also incredibly adorable. She looked like a dejected doll. Yuki liked above the knee full skirts worn with layers of ruffles and crinolines. Her skirts gathered about her so she looked like she sat in a colorful cloud. She reminded me of a doll, all big eyes, pigtails, and fluffy dress.

WIP-It Wednesday

stay up for hours just watching her breathe

I didn’t know how to express the feelings I experienced. Hell, they barely felt like feelings. They felt like exhaustion, commitment, obligation. It was slogging and difficult work.

Anything and everything I had done in my life for the past eight years I revisited with tweezers and magnifying glass scrutiny. How could I have changed the outcome? Why didn’t I have the outcome I thought I wanted. How could I go back and change everything?

I began having dreams where I could time travel and now-me would tell past me to make little changes.

I would wake up because I couldn’t breathe.

My apartment felt confining, constricting. I ran outside just to breathe more than once. I had waking nightmares of dropping Myrna. At those times I would look into the side crib, assure myself that everything was alright, and then stay up for hours just watching Myrna breathe. She was here, she was safe.

I hadn’t forgotten to feed her or change her diapers. I hadn’t left her someplace and then not been able to remember.

I started to look up my foibles so many times. Each time I either couldn’t complete filling out the search field, or I would not click on the links.

When I finally clicked on one of the links I fell down a rabbit hole of patient cure thyself bull. Blogs that looked like they had useful articles denied the existence of postpartum depression, others tried to sell me essential oils to get out of my funk. And too many of them assumed I had a partner who could help me with my burden of guilt.

©2019 Lulu M. Sylvian,currently untitled from the Phantom Stars Trilogy

NaNo Report

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This year I finished NaNoWrimo with 54,114 words.
I am miles and mile from where this story needs to be, so I’m excited to keep working on it.

This one doesn’t have a title yet. It’s a paranormal romance between a set designer, a hot actor, and the ghost of a different hot actor.

Here is a sneak peek:

The street view of his house wasn’t anything much, mostly a garage door, a small entry and a solid wall of grey stucco. Once through the entry there was a tiny courtyard with a fountain, and then the entry into the house. Stunning didn’t adequately describe his home. Inside everything was hard angles, concrete and glass modern. Outside it was all air and view.

 I hated the inadequacy I felt pulling into Liam’s neighborhood. It was that cosmic slam of not being able to properly provide for my daughter. The universe reminding me again, that I lived in a garage, and I would never be able to afford a home like this even though I had a good job that paid well. It’s not like I even wanted to live here. Sure the house was great, but this really wasn’t a neighborhood, it was a street with access to houses. No yards, no sidewalks, and no parking. Liam was lucky because he actually had a small driveway with off-street parking.

©2018 Lulu M Sylvian

WIP-It Wednesday the Nano addition

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I quietly walked over to where Liam stood and showed him the can. He nodded. I might as well do my job while Glenn was on a tear.

“Why are you still doing that?”

I jumped at Glenn’s loud tirade now directed at me. “He hasn’t gotten any sun for days now.”

I looked at the man like he had lost it completely. I held up the can. “Right, it’s working because I put sunscreen on him throughout the shoot.”

Never considered that Sunscreen Consultant would be a job I held. Glenn just stared at me, holding my gaze. So far it had been an odd week, starting with him pulling me away from my job on set to manage Sebastian Hale’s pale skin.

Every morning I met Liam and applied thick creamy lotion to his ridiculous shoulders and ticklish knees. And every morning I had to insist he do his own chest and abs. I let my hands glide over his skin and up and over the ridges of muscle in his arms and back, probably enjoying the touch a bit too much. He stood there oblivious to my presence, focused on his phone, thumbs flying over text messages.

He wasn’t exactly impolite, he was just used to having people wait on his snobby ass hand and foot. If he wasn’t a job, I wouldn’t even attempt to speak to him. But I did have to tell him how to stand and move so I could rub him down. And why not try to get as much enjoyment out of a job as possible? It’s not like anything would ever happen between us. I seriously doubt Liam James would be able to pick me out of a lineup of tall black men, and I am most definitely not tall or a man. And I’m about as far from black as you can get without being an albino.

Glenn nodded and I was allowed to go back to my little chair in the back and wait until the next time I needed to spray down the star.

©2018 Lulu M Sylvian, currently untitled from the Second Endings Trilogy

WIP-it Wednesday: a little burlesque, and a lot of feathers

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Her eyes immediately were drawn to the two women in the middle of the open floor. They wore work out wear, and were posed knees bent, butts pushed out, chests up, arms lifting in large circles. Katie stopped and watched. They were the Poule dancers. Katie’s stomach did a flip. She was already all nerves to see Nick again after last night and this morning, would he still want her around? But now to see the burlesque dancers practicing was an extra thrill. After only having seen one show, they were her personal heroes.

Katie couldn’t take her eyes from the dancers. They stepped, turned and posed to the music. She didn’t move from inside the door until one of the dancers caught her eye in the mirror.

She stopped and faced Katie. “Who are you? This is a private dance studio.”

The words stuck in her throat. “I…” She pointed to where Nick worked. “I’m…Nick.”

“Katie-cat is my lover.” Nick announced as he crossed the studio to where she stood. Katie couldn’t take her eyes from his face. His wide smile and happy expression made her insides quiver. He pulled her into his embrace and claimed her lips in a searing kiss.

He broke the kiss and pivoted to face the dancers. Katie could only blink as she looked at his face. His words and actions claimed her like an object. An inkling in the back of her brain pointed to this as a prime example that he was never going to be emotionally invested in them as a future couple. Her heart smothered that inkling with a pillow, and shoved it far far away. She wanted to be his. More accurately she wanted him to be hers.

More holiday bump and grind this winter coming your way!
©2018 Lulu M Sylvian

Complete: WIP-IT Wednesday

A pre-edited sneak peak at the 5th Legatum book.

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“Homework?” He asked, resting on the opposite bench for a moment.

“Yep, grading. I was hoping a change of scenery and some food would make this easier.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“That sounds like it’s not working.”

“It’s not. I don’t know.” She rested her cheek in her palm, elbow resting on the table. She stared at the papers. “The students need an algebra brick upside their heads and I need a bubble bath.”

“The thing that always helped me with math, was context.” Bobby leaned back looking at the other customers, seeing if he was needed. He was. “I’ll be back.” He stood and left.

Ramona was still staring at the papers, she hadn’t moved when he returned with her french fries.

She popped a hot fry in her mouth, and chewed.

“As I was saying, context. I could care less about watermelons, but when Brad helped me he always put it into terms of the shop. How many cars how many parts, how to know what to order next. Have you tried that yet?”

“I need to. They were talking about that at my last school. How to prepare for the zombie apocalypse, food storage and stuff. How many cans of peaches to survive the first winter. How fast your gun shoots, how many bullets you need. That’s not a bad idea actually. I’m going to have to go over all of this again, why not. Thanks Bobby.” She popped another fry into her mouth, and smiled. “I’m going to need a burger for while I grade the rest of this.”

“BLT burger or you looking to branch out?”

“I’m going to live dangerously, can you add cheese to that?”

Bobby chuckled, “You are living dangerously.”

Ramona picked up the next paper in front of her. Teaching math with zombies, might actually work. She just hoped it wouldn’t get her into trouble with Principal Grover. He seemed to like to keep a tight reign on standards and how lessons were presented. The homework assignments seemed to get worse and worse as she continued grading.

Bobby arrived with her hamburger. “You’re still looking stressed.” He put the sandwich down in front of her, then reached behind her and began kneading her shoulders. Ramona felt like melting. Bobby’s hands were large and warm. His strong fingers dug into the tense muscles supporting her neck. “Your neck is like a rock.”

Ramona suppressed a groan, the massage felt so good. She felt like all of her muscles turned to jello. Bobby did know how to touch, okay this wasn’t the touch her friends seemed to seek out, but she would take it. “You need to go home and soak in a hot tub, that will help.” His thumbs continued to press circles next to her spine. Ramona could barely think.

“Ahh, I don’t have a tub, just a walk in shower. It sucks.”

Bobby continued working his hands over her shoulders.

“I think you missed your calling. You would make a killing as a masseuse.” Ramona almost purred.

His hands stopped, he patted Ramona on the shoulder. “I have a tub you can borrow.”

“What? Really? I don’t want to impose, but oh my God really?”

“Yeah, be right back.”

Ramona sat stunned. Bobby had a tub, and he was going to let her use it. Oh no, he’s hitting on me, wait Bobby never does that, he doesn’t need to. Her thoughts raced from the joy of a tub, to being worried if it was a come-on, and if she really wanted to be another notch on his belt or not. He was good looking, and nice, and that massage had felt so good. She wouldn’t mind a full body rub down. All the tension he had managed to work out of her neck returned. She shook her head, stop over thinking girl. She focused on eating her hamburger.

“Okay,” he was back. “I have an outdoor tub.”

“A hot tub?” Oh, that would be perfect she thought.

“No, just a tub. A really big tub. It has its own hot water heater, so it could be a hot tub, but no bubbles. I’m here all night, so if you wanted you could go over an use it.”

“Are you serious?” Ramona’s eyes were large saucers as she eagerly looked at Bobby. A tub! A bath!

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Look my dogs will be out, but they won’t bother you. Just tell them to shut up, use their names so they think they know you.” He picked up the pencil she had been marking papers with, tore off a sheet from his order book, and scribbled down his address.

“I’m out on east 2280, dented white mailbox just past a red cattle gate. Una is the big brown hound, Deuce looks like a white pit, Tre is the gray mutt. They are all bark. Like I said, use their names tell them to shut up, and they will calm down. Tre might jump a bit, but they’re harmless.”

Ramona took the scribbled address. “Your dogs are named one-two-three?”

“And the cat is Cat.”

Wip-It Wednesday: Longing

Longing- Legatum book 4- is in the works for an early fall/ later summer release.

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Lucy hung up the phone. A smile crossed her lips. The kids were off with Geoff’s sister Michelle, and now a dinner date, alone, just the two of them. It had been entirely too long since they had some time to themselves. Last night had been the kick off to what was turning into a fabulous weekend.

She stood in front of her open closet. She wanted to wear something that made her feel beautiful, something that would remind Geoff of last night. Something that would remind them both that over forty wasn’t old.

Lucy sensed that Geoff had been hit hard by the big four-oh. Middle-aged. Even though it really wasn’t. His family had longevity in their genes, and modern medical science added in the extra boost. Besides Geoff was fit and healthy. His doctor declared it about his insides, as well as the obvious physical appearance. Lucy felt that forty was just the beginning. Then again she also felt that her kids kept her young. Tonight she was going to remind Geoff they were nowhere near being old.

Red would set off her pale skin and black hair. Turquoise would light up her eyes to a neon blue. And then there was always basic black. Her closet was full of basic black. Her closet wasn’t the gloriously large walk-in type she used to have, it was slightly deeper than two hanger’s widths and as wide as half the bedroom. She knew in the depths there had to be a sexy red dress. Lucy dug into the corner, cursing how she wished she had a flashlight. Clothes pressed against her back and felt uncharacteristically heavy. She cursed again as she discovered just how many of her clothes had slipped from their hangers and were piled up in the back.

I need to clean this thing out. I bet I can give half of these to Stacey. Her daughter was about the same size now, and had a flair for style that Lucy no longer embraced. She unearthed a lone shoe, tossing it to the other side of the closet.

Lucy came up for air, sitting on her haunches just outside of the open closet. She pulled a heap of random clothes with her. Everything was black, or beige. Not beige, taupe. She had gone through a phase where she only wore black white or taupe. She had been very stylish, but also fairly conservative for her own tastes. A glint of red caught her eye as she shifted the pile.

A dress. A spaghetti-strapped velvet sheath dress. Perfect.

Wip-it Wednesday Tori and Les

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I’m really excited to announce that I will be contributing to the May release of Marina Adair’s St. Helena Vineyards Kindleworlds! This is a little peek at what I’ve been working on for it.

“Oh we’re not done.” Les smiled before turning away. He bent over and pulled something from the lower level of the serving cart behind him.

Tori’s eyes went wide.

Les held two long white rectangular plates with five round mini towers of cheesecake.

“Oh, none for me, I don’t eat dairy.” Krista quietly pushed out of her chair. “I’ll see you in the truck.”

Everyone watched as she quietly left.

“Is she okay?” Marc asked.

“Yeah, she’s just really quiet and shy.” Tori screwed up her face. “And socially awkward. But I think she actually really liked the cakes. She said something.”

Tori turned her attention back to the cheesecakes. Now, this is what she was hoping for. She smiled with delight as he slid the long plate in front of her.

“Are you going to do a cheesecake flight? That would be awesome.” She looked at Les expectantly.

“Hadn’t thought about that. Hmm?” Chef tapped his fork against his mouth. “That might be worth looking into.”

“A flight?” Marc asked.

“Yeah, it’s like a wine tasting where you get a smaller portion of different flavors. People have been doing it around here for so long, they don’t call it a flight, just a tasting,” Les answered. He turned to Tori. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“Sorry…I…ah…yeah.” She slid the fork into the first cheesecake. Chocolate by the coloring. It was delicious, and smooth, and perfect. The cocoa flavor almost as intense as the cake earlier.

She wanted to dive in and finish the entire small piece, but Krista was waiting, and there were four more flavors.

The next one played a myriad of flavors across her tongue. She closed her eyes and savored the nuances of wine and white chocolate. She may have moaned.

Les shifted uneasily. He watched as the tip of Tori’s tongue touched the morsel of food on the fork. She guided the fork into her mouth, then closed her pink lips around the cheesecake. The fork slid ever so slowly from between her lips, wiped perfectly clean. His body pulled, what he wouldn’t give to be that fork right now. Stop it, dude, that’s just Tori.

She focused on a bite of a different flavor. Mouth, lips, tongue. She made a stuttering mew of a moan. The look on her face…Les felt a throb in his crotch.

Chef cleared his throat and put his fork down. Les looked over at Marc, he shifted uneasily in his chair. Damn, Les wasn’t the only one thinking that Tori might be enjoying her cheesecake a bit too much. Then again, what would it take for a man to satisfy her to that level?

Les started clearing plates as Tori sampled the last flavor on her plate. He had a hard time watching, he felt almost dirty, like he had been caught sneaking into his dad’s Penthouse collection.

He shook his head, yeah, no. Stop that. It was Tori, she was cute and all, but no, not Tori. Not with her plus-sized jeans. Oh shut the f* up Les, you’re beginning to sound like Stevens. Why not Tori?

After a few false starts, and a voice crack, Chef managed, “You certainly enjoy your cheesecake. That was positively…”

“I feel like a bit of a voyeur having witnessed that.”

Les caught Tori blushing, and staring at her plate embarrassed. “No boss-man, that’s exactly the reaction we want. Tori, you clearly had favorites, share.”

“Uhm, okay.” She pointed to the chocolate, “This was nice but boring, especially after trying the rest of these. The wine, whats the chocolate?” Tori slid her fork back into the swirls of the cheesecake she mentioned and then slipped another small bite between her lips.

“White chocolate ganache with blackcurrant marbling.” Les swallowed the dry lump in his throat. The way she enjoyed the dessert made it hard for him to focus. He needed a moment or three in the deep freezer to cool off.

“Yeah,” she hummed. “It’s amazing, but I think too rich for a full-size slice. You really should consider a flight, because this amount would be just perfect. But include a plain cheesecake, as a cleanser between the other fancy ones.”

She tapped her fork against what remained of a soft orange and lavender-tinted piece. “This is the one you threatened me with before isn’t is? It’s amazing. It could easily stand on its own. I’ll make sure to get all the lavender I can for you.”

The kitchen doors swung open. “Your ride is honking, it’s distracting.” Stevens sneered at Tori.

“That’s not like Krista. I better go.” Tori stood in a hurry. “Thank you for letting me try all these out. You have to do the honey lemon and lavender, it’s amazing.”

“You didn’t like the chocolate cheesecake?” Les asked. People loved his chocolate cheesecake.

“Don’t get me wrong…” Tori flushed. “The chocolate was fantastic, but I want to have the honey, lemon, and lavender’s babies. Why have just good, when you can have orgasmic?”

In the back of his brain, Les was kicked with a thought, what would it be like to have Tori look at him as if he were cheesecake.