Tuesday Tales: Writing Evil

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, a weekly blog featuring diverse authors posting excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. I’m pleased you stopped by today. This week’s word prompt is evil. My snippet is from #7 in the Wytchfae series. It is a paranormal fantasy romance featuring the rebellious half-sister of the three Greek Fates. Enjoy the other authors of Tuesday Tales.

Resa was doing her best to handle drink orders and keep up appearances of not caring a fig that Rhade had graced the tiki bar with his Otherworld energy. His male presence scattered her, set her equilibrium on its head.

Sunny, Pearl, and the group decided they wanted to slow dance. Sunny had a new guy in tow, and checking out his dance moves was her way of vetting. He didn’t look like it would be his forte, but you never know. People could surprise you pretty fast. The beach air did things to them. Someone punched in a number on the vintage jukebox, and the sultry strains of an old standard filled the air. There was something about the song. Couples were up swaying before Resa could refill their drinks. Then he was standing before her, offering his hand.

“You serious? You don’t like crowds, and this dance floor is minuscule.”

Rhade said nothing, but his eyebrow quirked up a notch. The hand remained extended.

She took it as a challenge and, with a twist of her lips, allowed him to lead her from behind the bar. Then the other couples became inconsequential because he wrapped her in his arms and his body was as hot as hell’s cinders. The heat swirled around her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. It meandered within and pierced those secret low parts until her body melted against his.

All this from a dance? The man’s got a touch of pure wicked about him. Why else would she respond this way? He’s the kind of bad sent straight from the angels. Her breath hitched as his lips brushed against her temple. A heavenly evil.

She must have muttered it aloud because his teeth caught her earlobe and then he whispered, “Sounds like an oxymoron, Resa. Or is it a paradox?” The way he said her name and the x sound in paradox tickled her ear, the sensation spreading and skittering over her heated skin. She quivered, and he pulled her even closer. Her cheek nestled against the hollow of his throat, and the wild pulse beneath his skin made it clear he was just as affected by her.

I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word prompt evil. Thanks for stopping by. Read the other winning excerpts at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

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