Tuesday Tales is a weekly post featuring diverse authors who share excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Today’s prompt is stutter. The resulting snippet is based on supporting characters from my 5th Wytchfae novel. The story is a prequel to the appearance of these characters in Lord of Fire. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.
Once in his hotel room, Lucien set the cat down on the berber carpet and lifted the receiver of the retro style phone, punching in 602. He grunted as the opinionated feline immediately leapt up onto the bed.
“Room service. How may I help you, Mr. Silver?”
“Um, yeah, two meals. One salmon and the other steak—medium rare—with fries. And a pot of hot coffee.”
“Yes sir. It will be up in about thirty minutes.”
“Thanks.” Lucien hung up.
The Persian snowball lounged in the middle of the king sized bed, a pink tongue flicking out to attend to an already pristine paw.
“Here’s the deal, cat, a nice hunk of seafood and then it’s back to the wilds for you.”
She ceased her grooming. Huge gemstone eyes glittered up at him reproachfully.
He frowned. “Don’t give me that look.” He unscrewed a bottle of water and plucked a plastic cup off the table. “Thirsty? Bet you are. I know I am.” He splashed out a portion for the cat, placing the squat cup on the floor, and then chugged down the rest. “Damn, that hits the spot after a night’s worth of Jack. Old habits. I don’t know what got into me. Feeling my age I guess.” Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he turned to gaze out the window at a cluster of cypress trees. Without a breath of wind, they looked stark and forlorn, outdated remnants of a time before podunk hotels and low budget rock gigs.
He rattled his head to shake off the feeling. Turning back into the room, he froze mid step, staring at the bed. Or what was on the bed.
A woman. A sexy angel of a woman.
She wore a deeply plunging fluttery white dress that made him think of Marilyn Monroe. He blinked to see if she’d disappear. She didn’t. “Holy c-crap,” he stuttered. “What the f-f…”
She glided up from the bed and placed a soft hand on his forearm. Blonde hair floated around her face like a halo. Her bottom lip curved into a slight pout. A seductive scent emanated up at him, sweet and subtle, tantalizing his senses. “I don’t care much for salmon. May I share a few bites of your steak instead?”
Thanks so much for stopping by. Please visit the fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Paranormal Fantasy Romance