Welcome to Tuesday Tales, where authors write weekly excerpts based on word or picture prompts. I hope our efforts provide some entertaining moments for you. The word prompt this week is lazy. I continue with 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.
Sazerac grunted. His words flared out from behind the hellhound’s frenzied growls. “So you know my name. Big deal. I’m not one of those wusses that gets all freaked out and my power declines because some chicklet knows my secret name.” He rolled his visible eye.
She frowned, clenching her jaw. “My name is Resa. I’m a Wytchfae.” She didn’t dare throw around her sisters’ identities.
He peered at her, focusing on the gun and then looking around her visible form to apparently gauge her aura. “Yep, I can see that, even though you’re packing.”
She released a breath, scrambling to try and recall what else the war god had said about Sazerac. At the time she had been somewhat distracted by Rhade’s fine masculine body plonked on the couch next to her. Plus, the current situation of the hellhound’s snarling and drooling out of all three maws wasn’t conducive to clear thinking.
She plowed a thumb between her brows. She did remember Rhade saying he hadn’t known why the crusty old boozer was assigned to fill in as temporary ferryman. Transporting souls seemed above his pay grade. Maybe he was more than he seemed or maybe there was some family connection between him and Charon. Maybe—a gleam of an idea popped into her head—some enterprising soul needed to cross over but stay incognito. Whereras Charon might have balked, Sazerac had impaired vision. According to what he had told Rhade during a brandy bash, he had suffered from lazy eye as a child and someone—he wouldn’t reveal who—had eventually speared the eye. Thus the patch.
But even if that were true, how did it help her now? It didn’t. She looked at Sazerac, calming her haywire impulses into a hopefully benign appearance. “Rhade spoke pretty fondly of you,” she said earnestly. “Said your name was all the rage in New Orleans because of a certain drink you concocted.”
His skin turned a shade redder. “People always gang onto a fad. Besides, that elixir is for kings and warriors, not puny humans. What else did the war god say about me?”
“Uhh, that you served as ferryman for a while and made a good job of it.”
“Rhade said that?”
“Sure did,” she lied. You and Rhade got pretty close, didn’t you? Drinking buddies and all.”
“He wasn’t much of a drinker. Kept me company though.”
I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the picture of lazy. 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
Like the way she thinks. Great scene.
Her mind brims, lol!
I loved the dialogue exchange. Lots of fun while being clever 🙂
I’m glad you like the dialogue. Thank you!
You portray such a rich and detailed world here. I love reading your snippets.
Aww, thank you, Trisha. You’re very kind.
Made me laugh with the visual of the hellhound’s three mouth’s drooling. Love it. Jillian
LOL I’m glad I wasn’t there!
She got him to break! Her toughness so impresses me. I can’t wait to read more!
Heh heh, her mind must have been brimming with “oh my God, what will work?” Thanks, Tricia!