Tag Archives: urban fantasy

Tuesday Tales: Writing Snow

Tuesday TalesTuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. We’re a book hungry troop that enjoys reading as much as you do. Today our prompt is snow. We continue the story of Ivy and the new man in town, demon hunter Gavin. Of course her sisters are always central as well. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

When they paused outside Uncommon Scents, he cleared his throat. “Thank you for showing me around town. I’ll phone you tonight if I may.”

Her hand on the doorknob, she half-turned to him, surprised. “Won’t you come in and say hello to my sisters?”

Churning hazel eyes met hers, bringing a delicious shortness of breath. “Forgive me. I must get back to my hotel and prepare some things.”

Her lips softened. “Later then.”

“Please give them my regards.”

“I will.”

“But you’ll keep what we learned to yourself for now?”

“You mean not tell my sisters that Mrs. Jenkins has a haunted store window?”

“Exactly. Until I can further research the matter and we know for certain what we’re dealing with.”

“All right.” She made a zipping motion over her mouth and then blushed at the juvenile act.

He seemed not to notice. “Ivy, no slipping down to Mrs. Jenkins’ store without me, is that clear?”

“Loud and clear. I have no desire to pick at that demon.”

With a satisfied nod, he left her, stepping off the sidewalk and crossing the road toward where he had parked the car. A cloud obscured the afternoon sun, making the day seem farther along than it was.

Sighing audibly, she went inside. Rowena was nowhere to be seen, but Shale had a good rhythm going as she worked a pestle over fragrant leaves. “Hi, sis. Long tall sexy had enough small town vibes for today?”

Ivy plunked her crossover bag on top of the glass covered gemstone display and let her eyes scour the ceiling in response.

Shale frowned. “Well, are you seeing him tonight or what?”

She shrugged. “He said he’d call.”

“Then he will. He strikes me as sincere.”

“It’s not like that. He’s here on business. Apart from that he doesn’t know I exist.”

Shale rested the pestle on the green onyx mortar and her eyes rounded to incredulous. “Doesn’t know you exist? Don’t be a dim bulb. The man looks at you as if you just emerged from a John Waterhouse wading pool.”

She laughed despite herself. “You can’t snow me. He thinks I’m a child.”

Shale’s curls bounced as she shook her head. “No. He doesn’t. Maybe he’s concerned he’s a few years older than you, but believe me, he sees you as a woman fully grown. Or maybe a witchy nymph.” With a grin she tossed a pinch of fragrant oregano in her direction. “Begone ye sorceress who hath bespelled the great Sir Gavin, the honorable knight come lately to our castle abode.”

Ivy’s humor returned, as she gave into the sisterly play. “Waste our herbal store on knights and faux creatures, will you? I’ll see you in the moat for that, Lady.” She eased a bottle of water from her bag.

I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word prompt snow. Thanks for stopping by. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

Tuesday Tales: Writing Sun

Beach scene with sun 5-31-2016

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring authors who post excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. We’re a dedicated bunch that enjoys reading as much as you do. To spark our imaginations, today we could choose from among several beautiful outdoor scenes. I selected a picture of sunrise on the beach. My snippet is from an adventurous paranormal romance currently being reworked. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

The pre-dawn air hummed with energy. It rose from the crashing waves and shimmered like a mirage along the empty beach. Having just unlocked the door, Resa slid her bags inside and perched on the top step. Distant thunder rumbled, and a breeze cast a tickle of mist to her face. Were they in for an early morning shower? Her softened gaze followed the stirring waters out to the edge of nowhere. The dark gray hue lightened a shade above the magical seam where sea met sky. How far away that was. She sucked in a deep salty breath, mesmerized by the magic of the moment as the veil of night lifted.

Light trickled into the world, new, as if for the first time, billowing into orange and pink. As the sun bobbed from the sea, the waves brightened into slices of shifting golden glass. She squinted. Far out in the waters a ribbon of gold sparkled atop the surf. A sensation of needles pricked her hands, and she leapt up. Her breath hitched. What the hell? Something otherworldly approached.

The sparkle drew closer, skimming onto the beach and illuminating the sea grass into burning tendrils. It halted at her feet with a final surging loop like that of a bucking bronco. Water droplets doused over her, and Resa thrust out a palm. It seemed to be a blend of light and water.

The sparkle morphed into the shape of a horse with a rider atop. The water horse shimmered an aquamarine color, except the eyes, which were lapis. The rider dismounted, his curving lips spread into a grin.

Resa responded with one of her own. She rushed in for a hug. “Mercury, you big peacock. Do you always have to make such a dramatic entrance?”

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on sunrise on the beach. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales. Tuesday Tales

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

 

Tuesday Tales: Writing Buzz by Flossie Benton Rogers

Photo by Alicia, copyright 2014

Photo by Alicia, copyright 2014

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post writing excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. This snippet based on the word buzz is from a work in progress temporarily called Soul Double. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Glancing away, she gripped the cup handle. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but the Underworld is a bit unsettled. Soldiers from the old times are regaining their war rage and turning renegade. To be honest the situation is freaking me out. Resa, you are so lucky to be stationed in the human realm, especially in this paradise by the sea. The way the soldiers are acting, it’s like something is infecting them, but nobody knows what. If Rhade had been on post, he would have chucked them in the pit, but without him…”

“His absence is convenient, isn’t it?”

Iris set down her mug. “You think someone got him out of the way just at the right time for all this to happen?”

Resa nodded, her gaze intense. “Jammed his ka and sent him spiraling. You hear more political buzz than I do anymore, Iris. If you had to guess, who would you say is behind it?”

A thoughtful expression settled on the youthful face. “It would have to be a person who would benefit from the unrest. I suppose someone who wants to get rid of Rhade and take his place.”

“Or maybe the current strife is just the beginning. When Rhade was here–”

“Are you serious? He was here? When?”

“A couple of weeks ago. Clotho showed up and warned me to be on the lookout for him and keep him busy. And now Atropos is hounding me.” She picked up the ebony chest and then set it down again. “My sister is beside the point. What I was getting to is that a dead warrior actually popped out from a dimensional vortex and took on Rhade.”

Iris’ hand flew to her throat.

“When the dude first appeared, he looked like a remnant or a Grim. Then within minutes he plumped out as fresh as a daisy. But instead of paying respect to Rhade as his commander, he snarled a slur and attacked him.” Tuesday Tales

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed my writing snippet based on the word buzz. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales. 

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Tuesday Tales: Word Prompt Writing by Flossie Benton Rogers

“Foreshadowings of some terrible disaster oppress my heart. Ye Gods, avert the omen!” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

NephthysTuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. This snippet based on the word writing is from a work in progress temporarily called Soul Double. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

     “I should have known a girlfriend visit was too much to hope for. Which sister?”
     After a moment’s hesitation, the answer came. “Atropos.”
     The apologetic cringe on Iris’ face might have been humorous to Resa if she hadn’t been busy displaying her own exasperated grimace, along with an Olympic eye roll. “Why on earth is the queen of mean writing to me? Clotho was just here last week.”
     “It’s more than a note.” Iris retrieved an ornate ebony chest from the little bag tied to her waist. The chest was actually bigger than the satchel she pulled it from. Gotta love fae magical bags.
     Indulging in a hefty sigh, Resa took possession of the chest. Reluctance swept over her, and she wanted to put off the unavoidable lambasting from her eldest half sibling. “You have time for a cup of tea?”
     “Just. The next missive has to be delivered with the final rays of sunrise.”
     “Ugh. Sounds like something momentous. I remember you dislike the ones with time constraints.”
     “Yeah, but not as much as I used to. I realized they give me a chance to show off my organizational skills.” Iris’ smile could vie with the sunrise.
       Resa squeezed her shoulder. “Good point. Come on in. I haven’t seen you in forever.” She set the chest down on the counter and pushed the button on the instant brew machine, while Iris situated herself on a barstool. Selecting tea bags and mugs came next.
     In a couple of minutes Iris took a tentative sip from a mug that said “Too Hot to Handle.”
     “Hit the spot?”
     “It’s perfect.” Her friend touched her lips to the rim again. “Earl Grey?”
     “Lady.” Resa breathed in the delectable scent of bergamot and then swirled a finger along the handle in a lazy figure eight. Her glance slid to the ebony chest. “Iris, what’s it like down there right now? What exactly is going on?”Tuesday Tales

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Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Tuesday Tales: Writing Forest by Flossie Benton Rogers

7-14-2015Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. This snippet based on the picture prompt is from a work in progress temporarily called Soul Double. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

The man brandishing the sword no longer resembled a zombie. Moment by moment his muscles bulked out until he could have been the Calydonian boar in man form. His clothing suited a warrior from long ago times. The late morning sun glinted off his sword, the rust on the weapon having vanished.

She grabbed Rhade’s arm. “The revenant is rejuvenating.” She couldn’t believe it. She’d only heard of it happening once, and then only after intense rehabilitation by a dedicated Wytchfae.

“I see it.” The venom in Rhade’s voice put her on notice to stay focused. She glanced at her friend Ernesto and was gratified he stood his ground. She looked back at the god of war, taking her lead from his actions.

His fingers tightened around the kitchen knife. “Argus. What hell did you escape from?”

A sneer spread across Argus’ taut lips. “Do you not recall our last encounter in the Centaur Forest, old friend? You left me for dead in the clutches of the Grims.”

“Aye, after you betrayed our unit. Why should I assist a traitor?”

“A brother-in-arms, nevertheless.”

“Such a two-face does not warrant a brother’s care. So the Grims claimed you. What brings you here now?”

“I wanted to see for myself how the mighty war god has fallen. No battle steed. No golden helm. Not even a proper weapon. Were you laboring at the hearth with this juicy camp-following chit?” A guffaw barreled from his chest as his squinty eyes slid over Resa.

Trembling with fury, she bit her lip until she tasted blood.

Rhade gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You will do well to watch your words, traitor, lest the woman you malign dices your tongue.”

Tuesday TalesThanks for stopping by. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Tuesday Tales: Writing Flexible by Flossie Benton Rogers

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Today’s prompt is flexible, and the snippet is from a work in progress temporarily called Soul Double. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

As his eyes met hers, Rhade’s voice assumed the cold dark tone of a commander. “Stay inside.” His formidable frame made it look as though he could snap the hideous creature in pieces like a twig. He stepped out and assumed a slight crouch in its lumbering path.

Resa took off for the kitchen. Screams sounded, and in her mind she envisioned beach goers scattering like ants. Good, a human would be no match for a revenant Grim. She gathered a small bundle of knives. She thrust a bulky handle into Ernesto’s hand and clutched two more in hers.

“What are you doing?” Ernesto gazed down at the blade as if wondering what it was for. He grabbed her forearm. “Let the big man handle the zombie, little one. Neither of us is trained to fight.”

She huffed. “That’s a revenant out there, straight from the confines of the Underworld—or at least I think it is. We don’t know what magic brought it here or what power it has. Rhade is strong, but his Ka has disappeared . We have to help him.”

Ernesto gave a horrified gasp. “His etheric energy is gone? Who is this man Rhade?”

She rushed toward the door, hopping over a stool that had fallen. “I don’t have time to explain.”

Ernesto’s voice came from right behind her. He must be damn flexible for his age. “Let’s go get the revenant bastard. Never could stand the formaldehyde smell.” The definite thrill in his tone surprised her.

“Rhade.” With the handle pointing in his direction, she tossed a blade at him. He caught it just as the revenant drew its rusty sword from the scabbard. “I told you to stay inside.”

Distracted, she threw out a retort. “I must have a problem with my hearing. Consider us back up.” The skill the creature used with the sword was freaking odd.

Ernesto whispered close beside her. “This revenant hasn’t fully devolved yet.”

Even as the meaning of the words swirled in her mind, the creature’s countenance became fresher. Flesh padded onto its body, and like a pin point of light brightening a swatch of stagnant water, a sinister gleam slid into its eyes.

Tuesday TalesThanks for stopping by. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Tuesday Tales: Writing Stiff by Flossie Benton Rogers

NephthysTuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Today’s prompt is stiff, and the snippet is from a work in progress temporarily called Soul Double. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

She shrugged and marched to the beach buggy, avoiding his penetrating stare. “We may have skipped a few ‘getting to know you’ steps, Mr. Marson—Rhade, but I hardly think it warrants more than a passing comment. Like the sign in the tiki hut said—service with a smile.”

He climbed into the vehicle, his knees practically crushed to his chin in the small space. He didn’t say anything further about the matter, but his sidelong glance told her volumes. Well, he wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t suspicious of her behavior. To keep him from disappearing, she had all but kidnapped him on the pretext of filling his belly.

A ripple of self-ridicule juddered through her. Human? This was the God of War scrunched up in her beach buggy. She walked a fine line between manipulative playacting and ending up as skewered as a knife thrower’s assistant.

She pressed the start button on the vehicle. The ruts of the baked sand made the wheel feel stiff as she turned it to head toward Ernesto’s.

The establishment in question emanated a shabby chic vibe that rivaled her tiki hut. Ernesto’s lean-to, however, had been in the same spot for decades and was even more the real deal. A foresworn fae who preferred a simple beach life to gallivanting around dimensions, Ernesto understood her need for a relatively normal life on the human plane. Her friend’s broad smile and manic pats on her back as they arrived belied his grumbled words about midday grilling.

He served Rhade’s food with coffee and obvious curiosity about Resa’s hungry new pal. She sighed in relief when he didn’t pull her out back to answer a barrage of questions. He left and returned in a few moments with her usual order—a basket of cream cheese fingers and sweet iced tea. “For you, little one.” Her stomach growled.

“Gee, thanks, Ernesto. I didn’t realize I was famished.” She took a big swallow of tea and dug into the hot treats. After a few bites, she observed Rhade’s blissful countenance, brought on no doubt by Ernesto’s bacon and eggs. She held up a cheese finger. “Here, try one.”

He downed half a finger in one bite and grunted in approval. She shoved the basket closer to him. “Help yourself.”

A piercing scream sounded outside. For a split second no one moved. Her heart thudding, Resa scrambled to her feet and surged toward the door. Rhade beat her to it and strong armed her to stay behind him. Ernesto hovered close by, visibly trembling and chewing on his apron.

Rhade swung open the door. She peered outside beneath his arm just as a gray hued creature swiveled its head their way. It looked like a man from whom all liquid had been siphoned out. Tattered clothes hung off his shrunken body, and his eyes shone like fathomless vats of coal dust. A rusty sword hung at his waist. He held a limp woman by the arms but now tossed her to the ground and took a listing step toward the open door.Tuesday Tales

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Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Tuesday Tales: Giggle by Flossie Benton Rogers

NephthysTuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Today’s prompt is giggle, and the snippet is from a work in progress temporarily called Soul Double. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Interesting — so he was willing to switch to coffee rather than guzzle down more devil’s brew? Furrowing her brow, Resa tilted her head to study him. “You knocked back enough of the hard stuff for one morning?”

“The night lasted a little longer than usual, that’s all.” Grimacing, he shaded his eyes with what she couldn’t help but notice was one hell of a well-formed hand. “Any shutters on these damn straw walls?”

She dragged the portable menu board over the floor a few feet to block out the sunlight streaming onto his muscular biceps. Her hurried movement was mainly to cover up the unexpected pleasure pangs she kept feeling in response to his superb body. An added bonus would be if he didn’t skedaddle in hangover agony before she had an opportunity to question him.

Or work her magic on him, as Clotho had phrased it.

Grabbing a bowl of mixed nuts from behind the bar, she plopped it down in front of him.

One dark eyebrow lifted, and she could swear a growl seethed from between his clamped teeth.

She hurried to explain. “I know you said you wanted bacon and eggs with hot sauce, but…the nuts are salsa flavored.”

“You’re a real giggle, you know that?” He braced his arms on the counter as if about to rise. 

Oh my goddess, if he took off she’d have to chase him all over the thirteen hells again. Her palm pressed down on his forearm before she had a chance to reconsider. “Just relax. Honestly, you’re all tense. What you need is a good shoulder massage.” Before he could object, she skittered around behind him. 

Her heart thudded at the heat of his flesh beneath her kneading fingers. Not being able to spread her hands all the way over his bulked muscles, she dug in as best she could. The scent of lickable male and good bourbon cast a wave of dizziness over her.

“Mmphhh.” His mumbled groan told her she was doing okay in the newly founded ‘massage a war god’ department.

Thanks for stopping by. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Tuesday Tales: Shale 2-3-2015 by Flossie Benton Rogers

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Today’s prompt is ring, and the snippet is from a work in progress temporarily called by the heroine’s name, Shale. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

She stopped and leaned toward him, her shoulders tight with the tension of the past few moments. The moonlight licked over the high planes of his cheekbones, and she had trouble keeping her breath even. “What is it you want from me, Mr. Zarek?”

“I want you to call me Nick, or Nicholai if you insist on formality.”

She emitted a rasping huff. “What is the point? Instead of the quiet dinner I had envisioned, we are tromping through the woods in the middle of the night, heading god knows where, searching for god knows what.”

“Is that why you are breathing fire at me, because you thought we were going on a date?”

A wave of heat surged into her cheeks. Sputtering, she sought to backtrack. “No way…not in the…I simply…” She broke off, pressing her lips into a thin line. With a dismissive wave of her arms, she marched away from him.

In a microsecond a warm hand clamped around her elbow.

She shook off his touch. When she turned on him with nostrils flaring, he held up a conciliatory palm. “One moment please. Hear me out.”

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Well?”

“We are both after a similar objective, correct? I seek knowledge of the queen’s activities once she abandoned the throne, and you want to ease her spirit to find its eternal rest. Is this not true?”

“Yes, but I don’t see what this wild goose chase will accomplish.”

He took a step closer, and his shadow enveloped her like a cloak.

She shivered.

With a warm finger, he lifted her chin, and his tone softened. “Why not combine our forces? We both have something the other needs.”

Her whisper matched his. “What are we looking for out here?”

“Something rare, but not impossible to find. We search for a mage portal, oftentimes inaccurately characterized as a fairy ring.”

“W-why?”

His breath hovered over her forehead. “Tell me, Ms. Delaney, does your passion for travel extend to visiting eighth century Northumbria?”

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Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance

Tuesday Tales: Shale 11-18-2014 by Flossie Benton Rogers

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Today’s prompt is the word stark, and the snippet is from a work in progress temporarily called by the heroine’s name, Shale. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

Grasses

As Ivy ran ahead to chatter animatedly with a jean clad woman standing on the open front porch, Shale plodded through the crackling brown leaves and tall dried tufts of witch grass. Sandspurs stuck to her maxi skirt, and she lifted it to pluck off the irritating invaders. It had been smart to wear mid-calf boots. Keeping the skirt raised to prevent further attack, she pictured herself for a moment as a regal lady who habitually strolled with her gown coquettishly elevated. One in a satin concoction such as those that sent Ivy into shrieks and peals. Goddess, she was getting fanciful.

The heel of her boot tilted sideways on a grassy clump. She grimaced. Obviously she wasn’t so brilliant after all. Lucky she hadn’t turned her ankle. Low heeled boots would have been more appropriate for this neglected yard.

A ruddy cheeked woman in a red checked shirt stood in stark contrast to the peeling gray paint of the porch. Ivy had already entered the house by the time Shale approached the woman with her hand outstretched. “I’m Shale Delaney. Are you Gertrude Riley?”

The woman’s smile seemed genuine, even though the lines around her mouth and eyes gave Shale the impression of weariness. “One and the same. Folks call me Gert.”

Surprised by her sturdy grip, Shale glanced down at Gert’s brown, sun seasoned hand. The woman obviously enjoyed working outdoors. “You’ve already met my sister Ivy, I see,”

Gert’s springy gray curls bobbled. “Oh, yes, a breath of fresh air, isn’t she?”

Shale smiled and nodded. Though Ivy got on her nerves at times, she couldn’t deny her little sister tended to brighten up the world.

“I told her to go ahead and look around as much as she likes. The same goes for you. You said you wanted to look in the attic?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Pay no mind to my no account nephew if you run into him upstairs, nor to that Mister Zared either.” Gert’s tone fell and became sharper. “Just because the old homestead reverted to him doesn’t give him the right to one whit of anything inside my grandfather’s house. You take your time and see me if there’s something you hanker to buy. I’ll be hereabouts.”

“Will do. Thanks, Gert.” Shale slipped inside the creaky screen door, her covetous gaze on the staircase ahead. Her hand skittering along the weathered handrail, she hurried upward, and then came to a sudden stop at the sight of a tall, imposing figure. Her pulse accelerated as the man stepped in front of her, blocking her way up the stairs.

Thanks so much for stopping by. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales. Badge for TT - small

Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance