Wednesday, January 25, 2012

WIP Wednesday

Today, I'm posting the scene where my two main characters, Alexis and Joseph, are brought together by fate (or could it be luck) and meet for the first time. I'm not going to proclaim the meeting goes well, since they are both so strong-willed, but maybe they will have occasion in the future to meet again under better circumstances.

Enjoy,
Joe walked across the old crumbling asphalt parking lot, and over patches of loose gravel in front of the abandoned auto parts store toward the bar. As he crossed the alley, he heard a voice and, looking into the darkness, he saw a man and a woman in the shadows by a garbage dumpster. The man said something, and the woman jerked her hand away from him. Joe's body reacted before his mind even realized the two were not standing in the dark for romance. The woman was backing up, and the man was advancing toward her.
"You alright Ma'am," he heard himself say as he closed the distance between him and the assailant grabbing at the woman. He made it to the man in five easy steps. The man was preoccupied with the woman, allowing Joe the opportunity to wrap his arm around the man's neck and drag him away from the woman, making sure to jerk his knee into the man's back at every step backwards. Joe kept dragging the man backwards until he was brought off balance and went to the ground. He then knelt down with his knee in the man's back again, rolling him over onto his stomach, and yanking his arms behind him. Joe grabbed his zip straps out from the left side of his waistband, and tightened them around the man's wrist before bringing his attention back to the woman.
"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Joe looked up at the woman, standing among the dark shadows of the alley. He could only make out her general shape in the dark, but he was certain he saw her eyes, just for a brief moment, nearly glowing, something primal reflecting in them through the darkness. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley, and the two standing in front of him came into better view. He recognized the man as Lefty, the local sleaze ball, and the very skip Jake contracted him to bring in. His luck was certainly changing from earlier in the day. The thug wannabe down and secure, Joe turned his attention back to the woman.
"It's alright, I got him under control," He said to the woman, as he jerked Lefty up by his cuffed wrists. Standing closer to the woman, he got a better look at her. She looked, not too pleased that he stopped Lefty from doing to her ... whatever it was he was thinking of doing. In fact, the smug look on her face made her seem completely ungrateful that he just saved her life, or, at the very least, her honor. Her pale skin reflected the dim light from the crescent moon overhead, and contrasted sharply with her dark hair. Joe didn't usually think much of white women, but even in the dark, he saw something special in her, a kind of confidence, a deep, animalistic skill for survival. He was beginning to wonder if he hadn't shown up, if she would've taken care of Lefty herself. Then she spoke, and removed any doubt about her confidence.
"I'm alright," the woman said. "I didn't need any help." She crossed her arms, and moved into a stance that, even in the darkness, came off as arrogant.
"Yeah, I could tell, you had everything under control," he said, with as much sarcasm as he could muster.
She glared at him; a cold hurt showing in her eyes, even through the dark, and he regretted the words as soon as he said them. Truth was, the woman looked like she could take care of herself. She was taller than most women, with a solid build. She was more hard-rubenesque than stick-thin, and her eyes showed strength. Even in the dark alley, her eyes conveyed volumes. Joe liked beautiful eyes, and he liked a strong woman. He decided to take on a different approach in talking to her.
"I didn't get your name."
"I didn't give it," she said as she turned, and began to walk away. "Like I said, I had everything under control until you showed up."
"Sorry if I interrupted your ass-kicking, but I've been looking for this guy." Joe left out the fact that he had just started looking for him.
"Well, you got him," she said as she walked toward the street. "Can I get back to work, now?"
"You work here?"
"No, asshole, I don't work here. Not on the street. I'm a waitress at the Pink Pony."
"Oh, I didn't mean ...” But it was too late. She'd already rounded the corner and disappeared. "Wait," Joe yelled after her as he moved as quickly as he could to the street, while pushing Lefty in front of him.
He reached the crumbling parking lot just as the woman stepped into the building, the door closing behind her.
"My name's Joe," he yelled as the door closed.
"Damn you, Lefty," Joe said as he jerked him toward his truck and pushed him along. "You just cost me a date."
"More like, I just put the two of you together," Lefty countered. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Nobody really, Lefty. I'm just the guy that gets paid for collecting trash like you and bringing them to jail."
Hope you enjoyed this scene and, as always I would love your comments and/or criticisms on the work. Always keep in mind that what I post here on WIP Wednesdays, is my first draft. I know it seems odd that I would post something for readers that is less than fully edited and perfected, but I want you all to have the opportunity to see the work as it's being developed-exactly as it was when it first dribbled out of my mind, through my fingers, and onto the screen.

One last note, in the coming weeks, I will begin skipping ahead scenes to post only what is most important or exciting. Of course, I'm going to hide some pivotal scenes otherwise, how could you later enjoy reading the finished story? I will be finished with the draft by the end of February and am way behind on scenes posted. So, in order to merge the end of my WIP posted scenes for this story, and the actual release and publication, I'll have to do some skipping ahead.

Until next week ...

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Great News and Freebies Too

For those of you who buy books from Amazon, you are probably already aware of Kindle Prime, the program that allows Kindle owners to borrow books with no return date with membership.

Amazon has also recently added a program for independent authors to better market their books, so I've decided to enroll a couple of my stories into the program.

I am proud to announce that Wednesday, 25 January 2012 and Thursday, January 26, 2012, I will be offering two of my stories FREE at Amazon!

I'm offering two stories from my Sex in Public Series, Window Treatment and All the Right Places FREE for two days. Please follow the links below if interested in having these two stories on your Kindle, or PC FREE!







Click Here to go to the Amazon page for Window Treatment

















Click Here to go to the Amazon page for All the Right Places














Pass it on! Tell all your friends! Download fast, and often!

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

WIP Wednesday

This week's work in progress post is a short scened building suspense before Joseph and Alexis officially meet for the first time. I would guess, you'll realize this is not love at first sight, which will become even more evident by next week's scene.

One thing I want to express in this scene is Lexi's vulnerability. I know she's all tough on the outside, and she can take care of herself but, whether she likes it or not, sometimes she needs to be rescued, not necessarily from others, but from herself.

This scene is, by far, the one most likely to be rewritten. I'm not sure I like it yet, and feel there is much to be removed, and maybe even some things added for clarity.

Enjoy.

Business at the bar was relatively slow most of the night, although the pace was steady. Customers came and went, creating a rise and fall in activity, rather than a steady flow. One lonely dancer graced the stage, moving suggestively to old worn out rock and roll songs. Lexi wanted to talk to the woman, but stayed just busy enough to be serving drinks each time the dancer took a break. Besides, during every break, the dancer went into the small crowd sitting with a customer.
She finally caught the dancer leaving the stage after a short set. Business in the bar was in a slow lull, so Lexi decided she would take a short break, and get to know only other female employee in the bar. She gave the woman a smile as she left the stage, and followed her to a table along the outside wall of the bar.
"Mind if I sit with you," Lexi said as she pulled out a chair. "By the way, my name's Paulina." Lexi gave her the name she gave everyone else since arriving in Montgomery.
"Sure. Be my guest," the woman said, not mentioning her name, instead taking a tube of cherry chap-ice chap stick off the table, and running it in a circle across her lips.
The woman lifted a container of bottled water up, snapping the cap open, and bringing it to her lips. Lexi watched, as she tipped the bottle up, drinking about half of it in one long pull. Lexi wondered why a dancer in a shady strip club would choose water over any of the harder drinks probably provided free to her while she worked. The woman suddenly stopped, looking at Lexi through her uplifted water bottle.
"What, you never saw a dancer drinking water on her break?" The woman sat the bottle back down on the table, screwing the cap on, a wry smile forming as she stared at Lexi. After what seemed a lifetime of staring, the woman finally broke her gaze, picking up the tube of chap stick again for another two laps around her lips.
"Becky," she said, as she pushed the cap onto the chap stick tube. "My name's Becky."
"Nice to meet you, Becky." Lexi watched her stand the chap stick tube upright on the table, and slide her water bottle toward her. Becky moved with a grace and fluidity that Lexi thought was beyond that of a dancer in a club. She wondered if Becky had some other professional dancing experience. Lexi asked. "How long have you worked here?"
"About a year or so." Becky stared at her again, as if trying to see beyond her eyes, and into her soul. "I started out in the New York ballet. After an injury, I moved to Vegas. I did the circuit there for awhile, and then ended up here."
"That's a big jump, Vegas to Montgomery, Alabama. How did that happen?"
Becky grabbed at her chap stick again. "Let's just say, a relationship brought me here, and when it ended, I was stuck." She uncapped the chap stick tube with a pop, and ran it around her lips again, like a car racing around a track.
Lexi decided not to press the issue any further, afraid of what might have happened to Becky that she couldn't leave. She looked away, not wanting to go any deeper into conversation. Across the dark room, she saw Lefty raising his glass and shaking it until ice cubes spilled out the sides onto the carpet.
"Looks like you've met our resident sleaze ball," Becky said as she pushed her chair back, and got up from the small round table.
"Yeah, he's been making me nervous all night." Lexi got up, and extended her hand. "It was nice meeting you, Becky."
Yeah, same to you. Take care of yourself ... Paulina. Don't let guys like Lefty get to you. If you do, you won't last a week here."
"Thanks," Lexi said. "I'll keep that in mind." She glance over to him and saw he was still holding his glass up, an expectant look on his face. "I guess I better go fill his drink before he has a fit."
Becky strolled seductively back to the stage, grabbing the pole, and beginning a slow dance in the middle of a song. Lexi waited for another minute before making her way over to Lefty's table, just to make him sweat a little.
It didn't take long for the bar's crowd to dwindle down to nearly nothing. By nine o'clock, the bar was empty except for the creepy, greasy-haired man, Sam called Lefty. Lexi wanted to show Sam that she was a valuable employee, willing to take initiative and get things done. She found some plastic trash bags behind the bar, and walked through the bar, emptying ashtrays and garbage cans. She filled both bags by the time she worked her way to the side door, leading out to alleyway, and the dumpsters.
She hoisted the heavy plastic bags up, and backed into the door, moving into the alley backward. once outside, she dropped the bags and jumped for the door, but it closed before she reached it, leaving her stranded and alone in the dark alley. After throwing the bags into the dumpster, she turned to walk out of the alley to the front of the building, and he was there. Lefty's dark shadow filled the small alley space as he double-stepped, closing the distant between him and Lexi.
"What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here alone," Lefty said as he reached over and grabbed Lexi's arm at the elbow.
Lexi said nothing, giving him a nasty look as she yanked her arm away. Undaunted, Lefty moved in closer, gripping her elbow again. She felt the hairs on her arms tickling her skin, and a primal urge to attack flash through her mind, as he pushed her against the side of the dumpster.
"Leave me alone," she said, as she did her best to will the shift away. This was the last thing she needed on her first night of work. She couldn't afford to bring attention to herself, but she couldn't just let this creep take advantage of her either. Lefty moved in to her so close, she could smell the bourbon on his breath. His lips were parted, not in a smile, but in that way a child or an unintelligent adult might let their mouth fall open when the attention is required for some mundane task overruns their brain's ability to manage other bodily functions. Lexy clinched her jaw and balled her hand into a fist as she slid across the cold metal of the dumpster, choking back her rage against a flood of memories. It didn't help that Lefty kept moving against her, his open mouth venting a putrid cloud of alcohol and stomach bile.
"Come on, Baby, I saw you looking at me in the club." Lefty leaned into her, pushing his nasty body against her, running the stub of his half-finger across her cheek. "I know you want it."
That was it. Lexi felt the hair on her arms thickening, her canines growing painfully in her mouth. She yanked her arm out of his grip again, and let a low growl build within the depth of her throat.
"You alright ma'am?" A voice came from the alley entrance.

As always, your comments and critiques are welcome. I will add that I may skip ahead a few scenes at a time in the near future. It seems my draft will be complete soon, and after the first edit, ready to go out to beta readers. Once changes are made suggested by betas, I'll send it off to the editor for another few rounds with the machete.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

To Honor King


"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

First off, I stole this from another blog. It's ok though, I know the person writing that blog.

I would like to dedicate this special post to the memory of a visionary, and in celebration, not of his death, but his life.

This Monday we all enjoy the holiday of Martin Luther King's birthday. Of course, his birthday actually fell on January 15th, but in order to allow as many holidays as possible to land on a Monday, we instead, celebrate his birthday on the third Monday of January.

We should all be thankful for this holiday as it traveled a rocky road coming into being. Campaigning for this holiday began shortly after King's assassination, but many resisted it. Some believed that King's contributions did not warrant a holiday. Others were dead-set against it because of King's personal opinions on the Vietnam war.

The state of Arizona nearly lost its hosting of the Superbowl when it cancelled Columbus day to be replaced by MLK day. Virginia attempted to combine MLK day with the holiday celebrating the birthdays of General Jackson, and General Lee. They finally realized, years later, that combining holidays for two confederate generals with a black civil rights activist would not be ... prudent?

Even Ronald Reagan, the President signing the bill into law in 1983, was not convinced of the need for the holiday. He begrudgingly signed the bill after it was passed by overwhelming majority in congress. The first official MLK holiday was observed in 1986, although all of the United States did not honor the holiday until 2000.

I believe the memory of Martin Luther King Jr. is deserving of a national holiday.

King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964 for his efforts to bring about civil change in a non-violent manner. Think he did nothing to bring about non-violent change. I'll just say this: If it weren't for King, we'd be witnessing change through the likes of Malcolm X and other (not so non-violent) activists.

I would also say that he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace back when it meant something - for things he accomplished.
Okay enough rant. The bottom line here is that, we should all take the time on Monday, even if it is only a few minutes out of the day, to honor Martin Luther King Jr. for what he was able to accomplish for this country. We should thank him for always striving to bring about tough social change and equality through peaceful protest.

I believe that he did more to educate people on social issues than anyone since. Sure, we can't say we live in anything close to a perfect society yet, and we probably never will, but we're a lot further along then we would be if it weren't for Martin Luther King Jr.

We should all strive to see others by some measure beyond skin color.

We should learn to rejoice in the diversity, and struggles of all people in our society, rather than squabble over such petty things as the pigment of one's skin.

Okay, sir. You can have your soap box back now.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

WIP Wednesday

This week, Joseph Johnson collects information on his skip, and heads out to look for him. This is the scene before the scene that will put Joe and Lexi together, and on an irreversible path to a relationship. But, there will be plenty of barriers to that relationship. Eventually, Lexi will have to reveal four truths about her to Joe.

Just a reminder. What you read each week on work in progress Wednesday is a scene in draft form. I'll repeat:

THESE PREVIEW SCENES ARE IN RAW DRAFT FORM.

I just want readers to know that, even if you follow my scenes each week, you can still expect a great reading experience in the future, and when this story is published as a novel.

Enjoy:
Joe looked over the file Jake gave him. The man in the picture looked like the typical thug wannabe. The skip was a diminutive white guy with greasy hair and a pock-marked face. Of course, most arrest photos weren't taken when the perpetrators were at their best. Jake filled him in on what he knew, while Joe flipped through the pages of the file.
"The guy you're looking for is Louis Thompson. His only known alias is Lefty. I guess I shouldn't really say alias, more like a nickname. I don't think he's proud of it."
Joe looked up from the file. "How'd he get the nickname? Is he left-handed, or something?"
"He is now. At least he has to shoot left-handed. Seems he lost half his trigger finger in some kind of freak accident while trying to rob a convenience store."
What was bail on this one?" Joe asked, as he thumbed through the file until he found the remark about the missing right index finger.
"Fifteen grand," Jake said. "Your take's ten percent, same as always."
Joe looked for patterns in Lefty's arrest records. The man had been arrested for everything from grand theft to solicitation, with at least five of his arrests coming from some form of sexual harassment of dancers in the local strip clubs. Lefty missed a recent court appearance after posting bail from a attempted car heist and short-lived low-speed chase. The notes on the record showed the reason it was a low speed chase was because he stole a stick shift vehicle and couldn't get it out of first gear. The police followed him for more than ten miles on the freeway until someone finally just passed him, and threw out a spike strip in front the car he stole. Joe wondered why a wannabe thug would work so hard at being bad, but still believe that just finding a job at some fast food restaurant was out of the question. He continued to flip through the many pages of his file, getting into Lefty's head, trying to think where he might show up next.
Joe threw the file back on Jake's desk. "Got anything recent on this guy? Where's he like to hang out?" He asked, as Jack swept the file up from the desk, putting into a large cabinet against the wall.
"Pick a strip club and hang out long enough, and he'll probably show up."
"That's it?" Joe reached behind his back, shifting his concealed holster along his back, before fanning his shirt and pulling it back down over his waist. "This loser spends all his time in strip clubs?"
"I'd say Lefty spends most of his waking hours in strip clubs. Most of his harassment arrests were in strip clubs. Police say he's just not smart enough to find another hangout." Jake snickered at his own comment. "Only thing is, you'll never see him north of South Boulevard."
"What's the deal with that," Joe said. "He afraid of getting out of yelling distance from his mom's house?"
"No. Rumor has it, He's afraid of getting too close to the police station."
"Does he not know there's a station on South Boulevard?"
"I guess he doesn't see them as a threat, since he's always done his jail time at the main station across the street." Jake slapped Joe across his broad back as they walked to the door. "Like I said, he's not the knife in the drawer."
Joe got into his truck and gave Jake a wave as he pulled out into traffic, heading south on Union Street. Street lights shot bright cones of light below them, leaving contrasting shadow around them along the dark street as he continued south until he arrived at the intersection with South Boulevard. the Greyhound bus station was an island of light on his left, while neon lights from the Pink Pony bar and grill across the street on his left cut through the night in cloudy pink hues.
Good a place as any to start.
Joe stomped on the accelerator, and his truck sputtered and lurched across six lanes of traffic, and onto the service road in front of the bar. He drove past the bar, parking in the darkened lot of an auto parts store long out of business. As he turned the key and waited for his truck engine to sputter to a stop, he took a deep breath and went through his mental checklist, preparing for a long night in bars and strip clubs.

As always, your comments, critiques, and/or complaints are welcome.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Big O

Why is it that a woman's orgasm is considered a scientific mystery, while a man's just a sloppy mess?

About three quarters of all women say they cannot achieve orgasm through coitus alone. Well then, isn't it time you try something else?

This phenomenon has been studied from all angles, and scientists have tried to explain it as everything from the distance one's clitoris is from the vaginal opening to the way a woman walks.

According to these studies:

http://abcnews.go.com/Health/ReproductiveHealth/sex-study-female-orgasm-eludes-majority-women/story?id=8485289

http://scienceblog.com/17315/female-orgasm-ability-related-to-walking-style/

Really, it boils down to genetics and, yes, I'll say it ... evolution.

While women have evolved to attract and hold onto a mate, men have evolved to inseminate as many women as possible, and as quickly as possible.

Okay, that's about as simple as I can make it, without confusing myself. I think that, for women, the big moment is a lot more about emotion and psychology than animal lust.

Does this mean that a woman cannot enjoy moments of sheer abandon? Hells no! I think it is more like, women have a greater capacity for emotion connected to sex than most men. Keep in mind this is all just my opinion, and not backed up by facts.

That's what I like to write about. Why not have a strong character who also happens to be a woman? What's wrong with a woman expressing her sexual desires, wants, and needs? Nothing!

In my novel, Lovestruck Succubus, my main character, Azra, takes this to a whole new level. She doesn't just desire sex, she needs it. It is sustenance to her, and orgasm comes in the form of satiation. Unfortunately for her, the big O also comes with an unwanted side-effect. She inadvertently sucks the life out of her lovers as she climaxes. For a man maybe that wouldn't be such a big deal, but Azra still craves a long-term relationship - love - over anything else. Can she ever find this? Find out for yourself with a copy of my novel today.

It's on sale at Amazon right now for only $.99 a great bargain! Of course, it's still available everywhere else too, but it's ON SALE at Amazon! Here's a link:

Lovestruck Succubus at Amazon

If you prefer paperback, it's still available in that format at Amazon as well.

Yeah I know. I couldn't help it. I just felt it was time for more selfless, shameless promotion. I hope it works.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Character Assassination


I've been working on the first draft of the follow-up to my first novel, Lovestruck Succubus since about August of 2010. Okay, not so much a draft but would you believe general outline? Well, maybe I've gotten just a little farther than that. Problem is, in this next novel, I'm going to have to kill of some characters and I must say ... it's killing me.

No, I'm not going to divulge which character (or characters) I've slated for execution. You'll just have to wait and read the next installment to find out.

I suppose this is why it is taking me so long to finish the story. I've grown to love all my characters, even the bad ones, and I loath to let any of them go. I read a lot, and know that many stories start with characters that don't make it to the finale, but they're usually minor characters--and these are major players I'm talking about here.

What about you? How do you feel about major characters taking the long nap in stories? Are you okay with it, as long as they're bad seeds? What if one of the heroes of the story dies? Do you throw the book and run from the room, texting all your friends to avoid this author as you go? Or, are you okay with it?

Just a refresher for those of you who've never been privy to my ramblings about future stories (I know, something a writer should never do. Leave me alone, snobby writers) or who've simply forgotten, the next story in the series is titled Demon Among Wolves. In this installment, Azra is living in Ellijay with Raif, who accepted the pack's offer to join them.

She must maintain the facade that she is a shape shifting werewolf like the rest of them. In the course of the story, we'll find out that Tarmin was not as bad off as Azra thought he was when she last saw him. He is working in the background, building an army of demons to rid the world of that nasty virus they created eons ago called werewolves. He figures taking out Azra will be a bonus. Meanwhile, Azra is doing her best to keep the rest of the pack believing she's one of them while she mysteriously starts to become, not more like them, rather, more like a mortal human. Something is amiss, and she soon, but maybe not soon enough, realizes there be spies in the family.

It all climaxes in an epic battle in which lives are lost, sacrificed, and spared in order to move forward. I won't give away the ending, but suffice it to say, no one will be spared their innocence, and the few that remain to rebuild will be few.

Anyway, this is where I struggle. by creating this epic battle in which lives are lost, I am forced to decide who lives, and who dies.

 I leave you with this. Does it matter to you if characters die in a story? Are you okay with it if the lives sacrificed are for a greater good?

What are your thoughts? Comments and criticisms welcome.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

WIP Wednesday

Last week, I introduced the other main character in this story, Joseph Johnson. I know he may not have seemed like much of a main character but those that know my writing style, know I like to build a character by offering little pieces of their personality to the reader throughout the story until the reader falls in love with that character (I hope) and empathizes with them.

This week I go back to Alexis as she goes back to the Pink Pony Bar and Grill for her first night on the job. I'm hoping that you've noticed by now, a stark lack of paranormal stuff going on. I'll throw a few hints in there once in awhile just so you remember that Alexis is a shape shifting werewolf, but I want to first establish her as a person as normal as you or I. This scene will reveal a little more of her personality while also introducing another character: Louis "Lefty" Thompson, local grease ball thug wannabee. While his story may be comical, he may still prove dangerous.

Enjoy.
Alexis closed her eyes as the door shut behind her, until her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness inside the Pink Pony. The bar hosted only a few customers, early-birds, desperate and lonely, or simply unemployed, with nowhere else to spend their time She felt their eyes on her, watching as she walked, as quickly as she could, to Sam, who was standing behind the bar, watching her like the customers. Only she did not feel his stare on her in the same way she did the others. Their stares carried an almost measurable weight. Their stares assaulted her as if each one of them were in a line, poking her shoulders, and other parts of her body, as she walked by. Her skinned crawled, and she had to fight the urge to shift, and prepare for a fight. She stopped twice by the time she reached the bar; giving serious consideration to turning a walking out, fearful that she couldn't go all night feeling apprehensive, and on the verge of shifting.
"Don't worry," Sam said as he dipped a glass into the bar sink and then placed it onto a folded towel. "They'll stop staring by the end of the night."
"Yeah, this could take some getting used to."
"Well, you'll have to get used to it quick." Sam turned the cup over and dropped three ice cubes into it. "Gotta be observant in a place like this. Gotta be aware of your surroundings at all times."
"I'm observant enough," Lexi said, surprised at the cynicism she heard in her own voice.
"How 'bout a little test then, just to see how observant you really are." Sam stared at her as he tipped a bottle of bourbon over the tumbler. "Don't look around. Look at me and tell me how many customers are in the bar right now."
Lexi pictured the bar in her mind. The only thing she had to go on was the glance she made after the door closed and she opened her eyes, but that was enough. She only needed one look, and once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see every dark corner of the bar as if she were outside in broad daylight.
"First, there's the guy in the white button up shirt and tie sitting at the small round table by the bathrooms. He's nursing a drink, probably vodka, because he finished work an hour ago but doesn't want to go home yet. He probably comes here every night for an hour or so as he works up the nerve to go home. His wife's probably got his balls hanging out with the laundry. That's why he drinks vodka. He doesn't want her to know he stops here before going home. Good so far?"
"Go on," Sam said. "You must've seen more than just one person here."
"Sure," Lexi said, her confidence resounding in her voice to the point of arrogance. She was sure Sam would be impressed at her observations. "Then there's the old man hunched over a coffee mug. He's a regular too. Probably comes here every night because he's got nothing else to do. He probably sneaks a flask of whiskey in with him and spikes his coffee with it. You probably know about it, but feel sorry for him. He wears an old green Army jacket—probably a Vietnam Vet, retired, and living on a fixed income. You probably give him his coffee for free."
"That's George, and you're right. He doesn't really have anywhere else to go." Sam placed a large round tray onto the bar top, and put the tumbler of bourbon on it. "Anybody else?"
"Yes, there's another," she said. "The first two don't bring in much business but they're harmless. The third customer is different. He's sitting so close to the stage, he could probably lean forward and lick the brass pole—and he's probably thinking about doing it too. He's probably packing since he's wearing a jacket in the middle of summer. He keeps his hair combed although it doesn't look like he gives equal time to washing it. Looks like he's the kind of customer that'll stay here all night until you have to throw him out, or he happens to follow some kind of trouble out the door. How'd I do?"
Sam pushed the tray across the bar top to Lexi. "You did pretty good, Paulina. Probably better then I would've done. Now, go give grease ball over there next to the stage his drink."
Lexi sat the drink down on the table in front of the man with the greasy hair.
"Thanks, baby," the man said as he pulled a five-dollar bill from his wallet. "You new here? What's your name? You don't want me calling you baby all night, do you?"
"Name's Paulina," she said as she reached for the bill.
The man pulled the bill away before she could take it from his hand. "How bad do want it, baby." He shook the bill just out of her reach.
Lexi smiled at him, and threw her hand out to grab the bill, but he jerked it away. She could’ve easily taken it from him, if she wanted, but figure she’d play the part. She noticed half his right index finger was missing, and wondered what kind of stupid thing he did to lose it.
"Come on, baby," he said, a disgusting grin growing from the corners of his mouth, revealing stained teeth. "Talk to me. You gonna dance for me later? How bad do you want my money?"
"I don't want it bad enough to dance for you," Lexi said, trying desperately to keep her emotions under control. "But I bet if Sam over there breaks his shotgun out from behind the bar, he'd let you talk to that." She didn't know if he actually had a shotgun behind the counter. She just figured most owner/bartenders would have something stashed away to protect themselves.
The man stopped fooling around and gave her the bill. She took it, turned on her heal, and tried to keep from running at full speed back to the bar.
"What an ass," she said to Sam. "What's with that guy?"
"I guess you've been formerly introduced to Lefty," Sam chuckled under his breath.
"Lefty?" Lexi was surprised people still used nicknames like that. "What is he, in the mob, or something? Is it because of his finger?"
"No, he's a wannabe mobster. He’s kind of a low level patsy for the local crime boss, and yes, he got the nickname because he lost half his trigger finger in a failed robbery."
"How, exactly, do you lose half your trigger finger in a robbery attempt?"
"Rumor has it that he was trying to rob a local convenience store with a fake gun. The store clerk pulled a shotgun from behind the counter, and in his haste to get out of the store, he got his hand caught in an automatic door."
"How could he lose half his finger in a door? Don't those things have some kind of override?" Lexi was beginning to feel like walking back to his table and laughing in his face, but she kind of felt sorry for him at the same time.
"Well, that's the funny part. According to the rumor, his fake gun was caught on the other side of the door, and instead of just letting go of it, he tried to force it through the crack, losing part of his finger in the process." Sam made a slicing motion across his finger with his other hand as a low chuckle escaped him. "The police arrested him at the hospital. They had to go retrieve the end of his finger from the crime scene to process him, but by the time they were finished with it, the doctors said they couldn't sew it back on."
Lexi had to bite her finger to keep herself from laughing out loud. She suddenly didn't see him as quite the threat as before.
Hope you enjoyed this scene. Next week, I'll return to Joe's point of view as he starts out after a skip. You will finally get to see Joe in action as a bounty hunter. I know he's not oozing sexiness yet, but as the story progresses, I'm hoping you'll become infatuated by him.

As always, comments and feedback are welcome.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The New Office

This year for Christmas, I received a new office. When I say new office, I really mean first office. I'm already loving this writing space, and find it soothing just to sit at my desk.


This first picture shows my new desk from the door of the room. The room itself is a spare bedroom, vacated by one of our, now grown, children. The walls were repainted, new curtains, chair railing, with a new coat of light green on top, and a Venetian plaster effect on the bottom.


This view shows the room from the other side of the desk looking back. The lamp and motivation picture are new. I know it looks a little sparse now, but I assure you, in six months it will look like the standard writer's space - not fit for public viewing.

I'm so happy to have a dedicated space for writing. Now, I feel the pressure to make some major accomplishments this year. I'm working on that right now, with a few projects in the works. I will likely publish only two erotic projects this year, while I concentrate on some fantasy/paranormal stories. So, look for a paranormal fantasy, a historical fantasy, and a historical/mythical fantasy to be completed this year.

Again, to my few followers out there, thank you for your support from the bottom of my heart. Happy New Year!