Tuesday Tales: Writing Glass by Flossie Benton Rogers

“Devouring time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood.”
Shakespeare

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their WIPs based on word and picture prompts. Our word prompt today is glass, and the snippet is from Lord of Fire, now being reworked. Hawk discovers Garnet captive in a risqué club positioned slightly in the future and magically cloaked to avoid the law. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

     Although he had been expecting it, the announcement of Garnet’s name half gutted him. Acid pooled in his belly. Hawk knocked back the dregs of his Inferno and squeezed the glass until it broke in his hand.
     A resounding beat ricocheted against the walls, as the audience in the darkened room clapped in sync with the low pitched drum.
     The teasing curtain swished open once more. Her head held high, her expression stony, Garnet graced center stage. Her luscious body shimmered beneath the sensuous lights.
     His ears buzzed with the crowd’s excited roar, followed by lewd remarks, whistles and cat calls. “Will you look at that? She’ll bring a wad of G’s,” a man at a nearby table slurred. A shapely leg peeked through the high slit of Garnet’s gown. The burgundy fabric sparkled like stars. Hawk’s groin tightened at the sight of her breasts, precariously displayed by the deep plunge of the costume’s neckline.
    The handler stood behind her, appearing slight and inconsequential in comparison. What the hell was the man holding? He couldn’t tell, and then a movement from Garnet swept his attention back to her.
     She stared straight ahead, but a slight tremor waved down her form. For a split second Hawk swore she intended to turn and bolt.
His leg muscles tensed, and he prepared to leap up.
     Instead, she took a deep breath, one that emphasized her cleavage even more. Was the damn costume secure or was she in danger of tumbling out? His breath released along with hers. With eyes that seemed to shoot gold sparks at the cheering audience, she clenched her hands and remained on the stage. Proud fury defined her bearing.
     A goddess couldn’t have been more breathtaking. 

Thanks so much for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed my excerpt with today’s word prompt, glass. Please visit the other fabulous authors at Tuesday Tales.

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