This is Tuesday Tales, where authors write weekly excerpts based on word or picture prompts. I hope our efforts provide some uplifting moments for you. The word prompt this week is nail. I continue with last week’s scene in Soul Weaver featuring Resa, younger sister of the Fates, and war god Rhade. When you finish reading my snippet, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
Placing her lips close enough for her warm breath to tickle his ear, she whispered, “My old lovers are none of your business.”
He stepped back, his eyes glittering. “Fair enough, but I warn you I can make it my business.”
“Game on, war god.” She slid away and lifted two old fashioned glasses.
“No shots tonight?”
Shaking her head, she tonged ice. “Weren’t the ones last night enough for a while? Your roaring head of this morning says yes.”
“A few paltry shots don’t affect me”
“Something did.”
“Yes, you’re right about that.” He ran a hand through his black curls and looked away in the distance. Then he seemed to come back to himself. His impudent half grin returned. “So what’s on the menu for cocktail hour?”
“An actual cocktail.”
“I see those are old fashioned glasses.”
Sorting through a row of liquor, she lifted a squat bottle of amber liquid, keeping the label hidden. “Yes, but I’m not making old fashioneds.”
“Whiskey and soda?”
“Nope. A mixed drink. A cocktail, meaning more than one liquor. Something to sip slowly while you tell me your troubles.”
“I don’t think you want to hear my troubles.”
“What are bartenders for? Guess again.”
‘Ahh, a new game,’ the glint in his eyes seemed to say. “Sazerac.”
She paused in midair. “No, but I’m highly impressed that you know what a Sazerac is.”
He shrugged. “Remember the old man with one eye that took over Charon’s gig on the Styx the time Hades banished him for three months?”
His barely contained muscles rippled beneath his tee shirt. If a mere shrug could do that… “Em, no. Never met him.”
“His name was Sazerac, and he tipped a brandy after every river run. He hailed from New Orleans, dabbled in the apothecary trade. I bet you a dead man’s coin that when the gig was over, he returned there, took his brandy along, added the bitters and what not, and voila—Sazerac.”
She bit her bottom lip, considering his tale. “You are creative, war god. I’ll give you that.”
His gaze lingered on her lips and then moved back to meet hers. “Could be true. Now what’s the drink you’re making?”
The burning behind his eyes made her stomach tingle. She twisted the squat bottle to reveal the label.
“Ahh, Drambuie. Then it must be…” He lifted hands in surrender. “Hell if I know.”
Her breathing seemed to have a hitch in it, but she managed a wicked smile. “A simple little potion called Coffin Nail.”
I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word prompt, nail. Thanks for stopping by. Check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories
All rights reserved, copyright @ 2022 Flossie Benton Rogers
Great scene. Love learning about new drinks!
Me, too! I especially enjoy learning about the often disputed origins of the classic cocktails.
I love the back and forth flow of the dialogue. It’s just perfect, Flossie, and great use of the prompt!
Thanks so much for the good words, Mae! They seem to have a fun time together.
Cute! I love a Sazerac! and a Coffin Nail sounds intriguing. Jillian
Right?! I couldn’t resist her making a coffin nail- what a clever drink name. Thanks, Jillian.
Love this! Never heard of that drink, but I love Drambuie. Great scene between the two of them, with sexual tension crackling in the air. And fabulous use of the word prompt! Love this!
Drambuie is such an interesting flavor, and what a name! I’m so glad you liked the scene– thank you.