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 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.

WIP-IT Wednesday Camp NANO time!

Camp NaNoWriMo is a virtual writer’s retreat, designed for maximum flexibility and creativity. We have Camp sessions in both April and July, and we welcome word-count goals between 30 and 1,000,000. In addition, writers can tackle any project they’d like, including new novel drafts, revision, poetry, scripts, and short stories.” –from their website

I am taking this opportunity play along with Camp NANO, and the writer support I find there to power through the rest of the stripper shorts. This excerpt is “RAW” and unedited, cranked out just this month.

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The music changed dramatically from loud and booming, to tinkling and light. Christmas music filled the air, and Katie could hear the woman next to her singing along with the music.

The stage curtains slid open revealing a man half dressed in a Santa suit lounging on a throne. Two ripped men dressed as elves pushed the throne forward down stage. The audience squealed in excitement and delight.

The “Santa” lounged on the throne. It was elaborate, tall gilded, ornate, it was everything that a throne should be. The “Santa” was not. He defied anyone’s preconceived notion of what a Santa was. There was no body fat on the man, he was lean and muscular. His long limbs betrayed his extensive height. His long scarlet robe of velvet, lined in ermine fur, cascaded around his frame, open, displaying an impressive collection of chest and abdominal muscles. Matching red britches and knee high boots completed his costume. There wasn’t a gray or white hair anywhere on his head or face. Thick wavy ginger hair graced his head under a crown of holly leaves and berries, no stocking cap with a ball of fluff on the end for him. The smirk across his face denoted his withering scorn for the scene before him. He kicked lazily in time to the music.

Now that’s a bad-ass man who clearly drinks tea. Holy Crap! Katie covered her mouth in an excited silent scream as she realized she could leverage tonight’s show for her blog. She let out a particularly loud cat-call to celebrate that this evening had just become a tax write-off. It looked like the wishing tea really did work.

The elves slid the throne back and to the side. Katie recognized her morning ogle victim as one of the two elves. Katie’s jaw dropped open. She had thought he looked hot and cute wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Now, shirtless with an open vest, poofy pants, and curly-toed shoes, he made a ridiculous elf costume look sexy. Santa deigned to get off of the throne. He tossed his long velvet cloak back onto the throne, the elves flanked him.

Three sexually-intimidating, ripped, with more abs than should be legal, Christmas characters stood poised ready to thrill.

“That’s one elf that can be on my shelf anytime.”

©2017 Lulu M. Sylvian

WIP-IT Wednesday Book launch freak out

This is a little different WIP-it Wednesday cause you’re getting thought process not words.

Protective is going to come out!

It’s with the editor right now!

And for reals, and soon (I think), maybe Decemberish, maybe Juneish

Protective-paranormal Romance by Lulu M Sylvian lmsylvian.com

I have to schedule a date!

I have to figure out how to have a book launch!

I am running in circles freaking out, because even though I know what I’m supposed to be doing on an intellectual level, I actually have no clue what I’m getting myself into.

So…
I need a date
I need a teaser chapter from Driven to put in the back, cause once you read about Morgan and Honey you are going to want to read what’s up with Julia and Roman
I need to figure out this whole digital formatting thingus

I need to go make a serious to-do list, and start doing!

Happy nervous dance!

Wip-It Wednesday: Celebrations

This is unedited RAW, straight from whatever project I happen to be typing away on.  I definitely have a goal in mind, and this (in some edited form) should see the light of day this time next year.

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X dragged behind her friends, This isn’t exactly what I meant when I said I wanted to celebrate Chrissmis.

“What you don’t want to see nude males in zero G?” Zora flopped her finger around mimicking humanoid -male genitalia in no gravity.

“But this is how we celebrate.” Yaz whined.“How is your Chrissmis different?” X looked up into her friend’s large eyes. Yaz blinked slowly waiting for an explanation.

“It’s an old earth celebration, where you get together with friends and family. It’s quiet, and there is a lot of food.” X explained.

“And they burn trees right?” Zora asked.

“I don’t exactly know, I think it’s just a log. I read about it once and it sounded like fun.”

“Logs are trees.” Zora muttered.

“You burn trees?” Yaz blinked in amazement

“No, we don’t burn trees. Besides, I seriously doubt they would let us do that here.” X looked up as Asteroid Station Fergus extended thousands of feet above them, until it anchored again to a second asteroid.

Artificial grav fields and manufactured atmosphere, no, large open flames would not be a good idea.

©2017 Lulu M Sylvian.

Wip-It Wednesday: Blaze and Glori

This is unedited RAW, straight from whatever project I happen to be typing away on.  I definitely have a goal in mind, and this (in some edited form) should see the light of day this time next year.

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Glori leaned back in her deck chair and tried to read. A loud attention grabbing laugh did its job, it caught her attention. Cute-but-douchey and his entourage of slimeball friends walked past. She shook her head, why had she thought he was good looking yesterday? The clean hair cut? The broad shoulders? The straight teeth? He was squat and too muscly, he looked like he couldn’t move with any grace, and he was top heavy. Broad thick shoulders and chest muscles hunched over a skinny under-developed abdomen and, stringy legs. Did he not know you should never skip leg day? Glori didn’t work out and even she knew, you never skipped leg day. What had Blaze called him? Jerk-boy. That fit him better. Full of himself, clearly he and his friends all had over-inflated egos. She was just glad she didn’t need to talk to him again. Besides, how could she keep a straight face if she had to speak to him? He wore a yellow speedo, a banana yellow banana hammock.

She snorted at herself, when had she gotten so judgmental on looks? Oh right, when she ended up on a vacation cruise that was clearly more about making appearances than relaxing. Even this morning her mother admitted to having purchased new outfits just for this vacation, right before berating Glori on her choice of outfit. Glori saw nothing wrong with her tank top, a miniskirt, and a men’s dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up worn as a light jacket, and her straw hat.
A group of expensive looking women got out of their deck chairs and sashayed in the same direction of the douche patrol. Glori figured she should lurk behind them, she’d call it observation in the name of anthropology. Yeah, that’s it, say it’s for science, and not morbid curiosity.

She made the appearance of being there for her brother and nephews, but over an hour of sibling neglect and being ignored by the boys since she didn’t swim she felt no guilt getting up and slinking off after the cougar hunt.

She made it to the bar before she chickened out. She couldn’t watch, it was too much like a soap opera, older woman with money, jackass gigolo. She ordered a soda, took her drink and began wandering the decks.

©2016 Lulu M Sylvian

WIP-It Wednesday: A Christmas Story

This is unedited RAW, straight from whatever project I happen to be typing away on. Since its NANO month, I definitely have a goal in mind, and these will see the light of day this time next year.

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Jimmy wiped his hands together, as if he could clear away the grease, and not just smear it around. A familiar happy tune wafted on the breeze. He looked up. Was that Rose? A cloud of thick golden tresses swirled around her in the freezing wind. She high-stepped and skipped her way over the ice and rocks on the side of the broken up road.

“Hey,” he called out.

Rose froze. She hadn’t noticed the hearse on the side of the road until the man called out to her; the tall good-looking one, the one who cheated off her tests in World History. James. James, what was his last name? If anything he had filled out even more. The white shirt he wore showed off his broad shoulders, the rolled up sleeves emphasized the unseasonal tan of his strong forearms. Rose had only let him cheat hoping he would at least talk to her, but nope. Boys didn’t talk to her in high school, and men didn’t talk to her now, seven years later.

“Oh hi. Did you get a flat? Need some help?” Not that Rose could do anything, but she had been well trained to at least offer assistance.

“No, I’m good, just finished. You aren’t walking home, are you? Where’s your ride?” Jimmy asked

Rose threw back her head and cackled. “You’re funny. Why would I have a ride? I’m pretty sure that damned bastard made sure that I would be stranded out here. Oh wait, that would mean he actually thought about me. No. No, I don’t have a ride, because my father made sure he was taken care of, without a thought for me.” Her voice was thick with knives and resentment.

“That would explain why I heard ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’?” Jimmy smirked.

“Yeah, busted.” Rose grinned sheepishly.

“Can I give you a lift home Rose?”

Rose’s heart sped up, her breathing caught in her throat. James-the-cheat knew her name. “Yeah, James right?”

Jimmy nodded, “Jimmy.”