Friday Free Read: Change of Pace

"Any word from the gallery yet, Tom?"

Tom's girlfriend Vicki curled up on the lumpy black couch in the photographer's studio apartment. She wore one of his shirts, a faded Van Halen tee that came to her knees, and she had her pretty legs drawn up underneath her like a cat as she flipped through one of her poetry magazines. Edward—who, in the mirror, appeared to be every bit a Tom—glanced up from the canvas he idly toyed with.

"Not yet," he managed. Did Tom call his woman honey, or darling? Baby, that would have to be it.

"No, baby, not yet," he repeated. He tested the words for himself as much as he said them for her benefit.

Friday Free Read: Playing Hard to Get

Dear Ms. Robyns,

Sincerest greetings from us all.

It has come to our attention that you've been doing some really extraordinary things in our city. You've impressed several of our governing members. We are currently seeking to fill certain positions in our establishment, and we believe you have the skills and determination we're looking for. We invite you to contact us at the number provided to schedule an interview with our recruiters.

Please be assured, Ms. Robyns, we seek only the best to join our growing team. We look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely Yours,

Daniel Nebuchadnezzar

Chimeran Protectorate League

Friday Free Read -- Black Magic Lust

A Friday Free Read

From the World of Blood and Fire

Caleb’s quarters were dark, lit only by the flickering half-light of candles ensconced in little braziers along the wall.  His rooms were deep within the family’s sprawling manor, no windows to the outside. Typical of him.  A fair scene for secret sins.

 

He took me with a passion born deep, a hunger and desire we’d kept simmering on the fire for far too long.  He devoured me, every part of me, eating me up like a proud, powerful lion.  He couldn’t be starved—Caleb would never have any trouble finding willing partners.  Tall and brooding, he turns women’s heads with his long, tawny blonde hair and roughly stubbled jaw; he speaks with a gently rolling brogue, calling ladies lassies and fillies and luvs.  He's deadly and dangerous, anyone could tell, and I’d seen scores of hot-blooded women throw themselves at his mercies, offering him their bodies with gleeful desire.  I know he’s a man who’s never had to go without: still, when we came together, he was consumed by an intensity that drove me wild.

 

Caleb could have any woman he wanted.  It was part of his contract.

 

 “Shyla,” he gasped, pushing me up against the wall and kissing me with feverish lust.  “Och, Shyla, you're like fire.” 

 

Any woman but me, that is.