Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Excerpt from WIP Boston

Destin has asked Boston to accompany him on a cruise. The fist step of their journey is a flight on a private jet. She and Destin join Sondra and Jared already on the plane. 

The rest of the week crawled by. She spent almost all of Sunday and Monday shopping in Raleigh. Instead of buying only a few expensive outfits, she did a lot of wise shopping. She found many bargains and ended up with a lot of clothes, including some sexy things, just as Destin requested. One of the items being a very brief bikini. I hope this meets with his approval. She folded the tiny item and put it in her suitcase, which she had been packing for a week.
She waited for him to appear Tuesday afternoon and early evening. The bar was not very busy, so she and Florence stood and talked at the counter. She had her back to the entrance when he came in.
“Don’t pee your panties honey, but your knight in shining armor just walked in,” Florence said with a low chuckle.
Boston’s breath hitched in her throat. It suddenly felt like the temperature in the bar had risen.
“Okay, he’s taking a seat at one of your tables. I think you can go talk to him now. You can walk that far, can’t you?” Even in the dim lighting, Florence had seen how badly Boston’s hands shook around her water glass.
Calmly, she turned and flashed him a huge grin. Though she wanted to race across the floor and give him a big hug, she forced herself to take small, careful steps. She certainly didn’t want to trip and fall, sacrificing every shred of her dignity.
“Hi Destin. How are you tonight?” she said in a cheerful but controlled voice. Inside, she was a raging turmoil of emotions.
“I’m fine. I can’t stay, but I needed to stop by and get directions to your house. A phone number would be nice too.” He took a small pad out of his pocket. He took careful notes when she gave directions.
When she finished, he looked at her for a moment, then spoke. “Great. Well as I said, I can’t stay. See you Saturday morning about nine.” He stood up, winked and left.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. I’m going to Hawaii. I’m actually going to Hawaii. She resisted the temptation to do a happy dance each time she thought of it.
It seemed to take forever, but at last Saturday morning arrived and a car pulled up in front of her house. Not just any car, a limousine. The driver loaded her baggage and informed her that Destin waited at the airport. She spent the drive lounging in the spacious backseat and looking around at the luxury surrounding her. Destin met her curbside with a porter. He wore a nice dress shirt, sport jacket, and slacks.
Boston decided she was woefully underdressed in her white halter-top, tight-fitting blue jeans, and black ankle boots. She brought dresses and skirts, but for a plane flight she figured casual dress.
Boy was I wrong. She almost groaned.
The porter unloaded her bags while Destin gave her a hug. His aftershave smelled great, and his body, just as she had guessed, felt well muscled. He chuckled when he saw the four bags and overnight case she brought.
“Are you sure your dog isn’t in one of these?”
She smiled. “I tried to bring him but he wouldn’t get in, so I had to leave him home.”
They bypassed the commercial terminals and proceeded to the general aviation area. When they walked out onto the tarmac, she saw a private jet awaited them. Though he’d never said so, she guessed from their conversations that Destin’s father had to be well-to-do. Well-to-do are very inadequate words, she decided. It’s apparent that Destin’s father is very wealthy.
“Jared and Sondra are already on board,” he said, as they climbed the steps into the plane. When they entered the passenger compartment, she saw six seats, two of them occupied. Jared, she had met before. About the same height as Destin and with the same muscular build, he had blue eyes and black hair. He wore a dress shirt with sport coat and slacks. The woman with him had long, red hair and green eyes. She wore a lime green dress.
Boston bit her tongue to squelch the anger she felt and comment she wanted to make to Destin about not telling her about the formal dress. Not only are you guys dressed up, but she is too, and here I am in my fucking jeans.
“You’ve already met Jared, and this is Sondra.” Destin pointed to the woman getting to her feet.
 Boston offered her hand in greeting, which Sondra brushed aside. Instead, she stepped into the aisle and gave Boston a big hug. She saw Sondra wore not only a lime green dress but stockings and heels too.
Boston flashed another look of displeasure at Destin and apologized to Sondra. “I didn’t realize the dress code was formal. Someone chose not to inform me.” Her voice reflected her anger. “You all look very nice. Then you have me, wearing blue jeans and a halter.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sondra assured her. “You look just fine. These guys are not very informative. Sometimes I think they’re sadists and enjoy making women uncomfortable. You should have seen me the first time I met them for an outing. They told me casual, so I dressed in sloppy shorts and a t-shirt, only to have a damn limo pick me up and deliver me here to the airport. They met me dressed like they are now. Talk about embarrassing. That happened a couple of years ago. Since then, I’ve learned.” Sondra glared first at Jared, then Destin. “Shame on both of you. A lady likes to know these things.” She laughed. Destin and Jared both hung their heads, but each wore a grin on his face.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

From a a paranormal WIP

These two witches do not take kindly to being held prisoner

The women watched as the male members of the crew were marched out to the railing, their hands also bound. In horror, they watched as the attackers forced each man to his knees and placed a gun against the base of his skull. One-by-one they were executed, their bodies kicked over the side.
One of the captors filmed the whole thing. Through the open porthole they watched all four crewmen killed. When the last one was overboard one of the men said.  “That should prove to your fathers we mean business. I’m sure it will motivate them to pay the ransom we demand. If not… well there’s always your girlfriends.”
Destin struggled and was punched in the head for his efforts. “Put them back in their cabins,” the man growled. Three men hauled Jared and Destin to their feet and marched them off.
Both women looked at each other in shock and disbelief. They spent the day trying to think of some way to get free. That night they laid awake and listened to blood curdling screams of terror and agony and the grunts of pleasure of their assailants. It was not hard to guess the fate of the two female crewmembers. In the early morning, the screams stopped. They watched as the women’s bodies were tossed over the side to join the male crewmembers in the deep.
Sondra turned to Boston. Her expression changed from horror and sorrow to intense anger. “I knew every one of them. They were all nice people. Fuck the Rede that says we can’t harm others with our magick. This is one witch who’s going to do as much harm to those sadistic bastards as possible. They may win in the end, but they’re sure going to get a sample of my magick. Maybe I can take a few of them with me into the next life. All of my life, I’ve been nonviolent. Now, I’m pissed.”
“I’m with you,” Boston said. “I don’t know how much I can do in all this water since I am an earth witch, but I’ll help in any way I can.”
Sondra sat on the floor and closed her eyes. She did not know what all the men looked like. She had not seen their faces. She knew very well what Jim and Felix looked like though. She had watched as the two of them felt her up. She formed a picture of Jim in her mind. Then she formed a picture of water. She combined the two. Reaching out with her thoughts, she located him and linked.
* * * *
Sondra felt it when, unable to breathe, Jim stumbled and fell to the floor. She could see it in her mind when each time he opened his mouth to scream in pain, water poured from his lungs. She felt him claw desperately at his throat. More water formed in his lungs. His eyes bulged. She heard, “What the fuck?” flash through his mind. With a final gurgle, he lay still. Visibly shaken and feeling some of Jim’s final moments of pain, she opened her eyes and shook herself. I’m learning though. Next time I separate myself from their emotional panic.
A humorless grin creased Sondra’s face. One down. She sought out Felix next and felt his mind, linked with him. He was sitting in the galley. She almost felt his cup of coffee touch his lips. Her grin widened as she sensed his reaction to his lungs suddenly filling with water. Without compassion, she sensed his panic at not being able to breathe. In her mind’s eye she watched the bastard struggle to his feet, only to drop to his knees and quickly die. This time she did not share the pain.
* * * *
Boston watched Sondra attentively as a humorless smile formed on the other woman’s lips.
“What are you doing?” Boston asked.
Sondra did not open her eyes. “Using my water magick to drown the bastards where they stand. Why don’t you see what you can do? I just took out Jim and Felix. A word of warning though, don’t link with them too tight.”
“I can picture the cameraman.”
“Good, then that will be our next target. I’ll help you all I can.”
Boston felt magical energy reach out from Sondra. Goddess, forgive me for what I am about to do. Boston formed a vision in her mind of the cameraman. She sat next to Sondra and closed her eyes to concentrate. Her mind reached out on a seek and destroy mission. He was seated on a bunk. She sensed he was not alone.
The same humorless, almost predatory smile stretched her lips.
* * * *
Rodger, the cameraman, doubled over in pain. His stomach suddenly felt as if it was on fire. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. He had never felt a fever like this before, or had one come on so suddenly. His temperature continued to rise and he lost conscious before blood boiled out of his eyes, ears, nose, mouth and rectum.
* * * *
The women opened their eyes.
“Did you get him?” Sondra asked.
“He’s dead.”
“Well, three down, and I don’t know how many to go,” Sondra snarled.
“Now what?”
“For now, I guess we wait. When whoever is in charge finds three of his men dead, I’m sure it will provoke some type of reaction. When the opportunity presents itself, we strike again. I don’t know what else to do at this point. Do you?”


Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Excerpt from paranormal WIP

Heather jolted awake at the excruciating pain in her neck. Her eyes flashed open to find Jason lying top of her and holding her to the ground. She felt a hot stickiness streaming onto her back and knew that he was not just biting her, but drawing blood. . Struggling, twisting, turning she found that she was unable to dislodge him. Though not extremely muscular, Heather was not weak either. Jason, however seemed to be inhumanly strong. He trapped her arms easily and held her to the ground. A scream of terror burst from her lips shattering the silence of the woods.  
He released one of her arms and clamped his hand over her mouth. What the hell was happening? She wouldn’t have been surprised to find herself being raped, she was certain she’d been drugged but why was he biting her? With her free hand she desperately thrashed over the snow covered ground searching for a rock, a stick, anything to use as a weapon. Whatever she found to defend herself, it would have to be soon because she felt herself getting weaker.
Her searching hand closed around a piece of wood. Grasping it tight, she plunged the wooden splinter in his side. Again and again the wood dug into him with no apparent effect until the last time she plunged it in just below his armpit. His hold on her other arm relaxed and a growl that sounded more animal than human was muffled against her neck. Yanking her arm free, she reached up and grabbed a handful of his shoulder length hair. Lacing her fingers in it, she jerked his mouth away from her.
For the first time she saw his eyes. Bloodshot, wild looking and––oh my god––fangs protruding from the roof of his mouth. His lips were red and dripped with blood. Then she realized it was her blood. She screamed again.
“I don’t believe it. You bitch,” Jason cursed and slapped her, making her head snap to the side. His sharp claws left bleeding furrows across her cheek. Jason’s arms gave out and he collapsed forward on her. Claws from his other hand dug into her side. Everything faded to black.
She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious but knew it could not have been long. Jason’s body still covered her although it was motionless. Squirming and pushing, she managed to roll him from her. Slowly she struggled to her feet. He remained unmoving. Apparently dead. Adrenalin that had flooded her veins during the fight was fading to be replaced with bone chilling cold. Her once pretty and sleeveless dress hung from her in tatters and her stockings were full of tears and runners. Even standing, snow spilled over the tops of her mid-calf boots.
Her teeth chattered uncontrollably. Have to find shelter. Get out of this terrible cold or I’ll die.
Stumbling away from the scene of their skirmish, she trudged through the moonlit snow in search of cover.
Weak. Terribly weak.

Only sheer willpower kept her feet moving. Although her mind told her only a short time had passed, it seemed to stretch endlessly. One step…and then another. She spotted a cabin, shack really, in the distance. Struggling through the deep snow, she covered the last few yards on her knees. Turning the doorknob with her half frozen fingers was a near impossible challenge but at last the door opened. Crawling inside, she kicked it closed behind her. Looking around she saw that the interior furnishings were sparse. There was a bed and thankfully a blanket. With great effort she crawled across the wooden floor and pulled the blanket from the bed. Wrapping herself in it was the last thing she did before blackness closed over her once more.